It might have seemed odd, with the turmoil plaguing the Empire, that its untouchables were partying the nights away. But not really. History was filled with examples of uppers who danced while their empires burned. There was nothing different going on here.
Heads turned when the Imperial Guards burst in, though. Some of the revelers simply looked them up and down, then went back to their drinking and merriment. But others stopped in middance step, wondering why the heavily armed soldiers were here. The chief guard pushed his way through the crowd, looking this way and that. Finally he spotted the person he'd come here to protect.
She was dressed all in black. Jacket. Miniskirt. Stockings. Boots. Her low-cut top showed a generous hint of breasts. Her hair was blonde and flowing over her shoulders. Even with the heavy make up, her face was stunning.
She was the Empress of the Galaxy, the wife of O'Nay Himself.
The guard approached her slowly, then went into a deep bow.
"A million pardons, my lady," he said. "But we must evacuate you back to Earth immediately."
The Empress waved him off. "Go away," she said.
The officer repeated his request, this time more urgently.
She danced up close to him; he could smell a strong scent of slow-ship wine coming from her.
"I'm having some fun for a change," the Empress whispered in his ear. "Why would I want to leave now?"
"My lady…"
Suddenly she had a goblet of sparkling blue liquid in her hand. Draining it in one gulp, she tossed the cup away. Then her jacket came off. The music became louder; the mixture of pulsating bass and ethereal strings turned hypnotic. She floated away and was quickly swallowed up by the crowd. She could just barely be seen now, eyes closed, dancing slowly.
With no little trepidation, the chief bodyguard waded into the throng after her. Arms and legs and faces and breasts blocked his view, giving way very slowly and reluctantly. Suddenly the Empress was in front of him again. Her eyes were locked on to his. She began dancing even closer. The lights went down. The other partygoers were suddenly very intimate with each other. Many of the women were now topless. The chief bodyguard began to sweat.
The Empress was dancing so close to him now, she was rubbing up against his chest. She'd been known to use this tactic before.
"I'm sorry, my lady," the officer finally said. "But there is an emergency, and we have orders to get you back to Earth as soon as possible."
She laughed drunkenly and began dancing away from him yet again. But at that moment, another small army of body-guards burst into the room. They were private hires and did not carry the burden of imperial protocol. They quickly found their lesser-class clients and with no little ceremony began hustling them out of the hall.
The music suddenly stopped. The laughter died down. Someone screamed. Panic began to rise.
Obviously, something big was going on.
Concerned now, the Empress sought out the bodyguard.
"What is it then?" she asked him harshly. "Just tell me."
"There has been another incident, my lady," he whispered gravely. "Between the Space Forces and the Solar Guards— out on the Two Arm."
She stared back at him, her painted face twisted in confusion. "One more clash between our own soldiers? So what? These skirmishes have been happening for the past month, correct?"
The officer nodded soberly. "Yes, my lady," he said. "But this was not a skirmish. This was a major battle. Forty SG Starcrashers were destroyed, at least ten from the SF were also lost. Nearly a million of our soldiers have been killed."
The number stunned her. " A million?"
"Yes, and a devastating defeat for the Solar Guards," he whispered to her now. "So bad, they are going full speed ahead with their new decree."
"What new decree?" she asked. "I've not heard about this."
The Imperial officer just shook his head. She was probably the only person in the Empire who hadn't heard of the SG's latest radical step.
"They are declaring it the Inner Planets Defense Order," the guard said. "It calls for nearly half of their capital warships to return home from the other arms. That's an incredibly large number of ships and men, my lady. And they will soon be occupying the entire One Arm with them. As it is, they are not allowing any SF ships into the Solar System. And now, they will probably not let any of us out. This is not a good thing, my lady."
Even she understood this. As bad as the rivalry between the two services was, it also served to keep each one in check. This was especially true for the more ambitious Solar Guards.
"Can the SG really do such a thing lawfully?" she asked the officer, as the big hall further emptied out.
"They are writing the laws, ma'am," he told her. "They have free rein when it comes to protecting the Emperor. Though this is taking their mission to its limit, no one can stop them. Not now. And that leads us to the real problem."
"And that is?"
The officer was suddenly right up to her ear. "With so many Solar Guards in the One Arm and inside the Pluto Cloud, there is a real chance for…"
"Yes… for?"
The man could barely speak the word. "My superiors think that you and the rest of your family are in personal danger," he said instead.
Now she just stared back at him, speechless.
"What are you talking about?" she asked him sternly. "A revolt?"
He looked her straight in the eye and said: "No, my lady, not a revolt. A coup."
The Empress was put on the heavily armed warship, which in turn was surrounded by a small fleet of scout ships and spacefighters. The flight back to Earth took just a few minutes. Her vessel passed through the cordon of sentry ships the Solar Guards had put up in orbit around Earth. There were so many SG vessels, it was almost difficult to find a pathway through them.
The Empress's ship went directly to Special Number One. Her bodyguards requested that she linger on the floating city only long enough for her to put a few personal items together. Once packed, they would whisk her to a safer location, this being another floating city, a secret one, called Special Number Two, which at that moment was cruising high above the North Pole. From there, plans would be made to spirit her out of the Solar System and off the One Arm itself.
But of course the Empress would hear none of this. She demanded to be brought directly to the Imperial Court, the large room located on the bottom floor of the enormous Imperial Palace. This was the seat of power for the Galaxy.
The court was usually crowded with small armies of courtesans, brokers, relatives, lobbyists, priests, diplomats, military types from all services, aides, guards, and spies. Many, many spies. The goings-on here were a daily scene of controlled chaos, with those few lucky enough to actually be in a position to petition the Emperor — or more likely his close imperial flunkies — trying everything they could from cajoling, to bribes, to threats of bodily harm, to get their voices heard. Some of the time, Emperor O'Nay Himself was actually on hand, sitting in a hovering throne exactly fifty feet above the fray, staring out at the nothingness, while the excitement and confusion played out below. At times, the noise in the court could reach deafening proportions.
But now, as the Empress burst into the enormous gold-leaf room, it was the silence that was overwhelming. She stopped in her tracks, as did the company of Imperial Guards traveling with her.
She couldn't believe her eyes.
The court was empty.