Wolff of the Endless Waltz -chapter 5

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Wolff of the Endless Waltz


For 35yrs the border between the Human Empire and Gorgonzola Empire as remained mostly peaceful. The citizens for the Human Empire of this border region are loyal to the last man, woman, and child to the Empire. It was on one of these worlds that gave birth to a legend. The world of Apollo 6 is one of the harshest worlds within the Empire. One so harsh that only it could claim to be the birth world of James J. Owens, the most feared of Death Dealers. A world that is even now poised to give birth to a new legendary warrior. One who shall be baptized in the blood of the Empire’s enemies. Robert Wolff youngest great grandchild of James Owens’ sister Cecilia Owens.


Chapter 5
Arco dei Gavi, Capital City, San Vitruvio, Gorgonzola Empire.

The Imperial Palace throne room was as quiet as the grave while Grand War Commander of Preparation Quintino Di Taranto gave his report. “On the tenth day of Fiocco di neve, the sixty-seventh Grand Expeditionary Freedom Forces reach full readiness. War Admiral Abramo Mattaliano reports that his fleet can be in position to attack The Hibernating Expanse and reclaim our rightful territory from the Human Empire in two months. Our alley on the Maroon Earth has assured me that his forces stand ready to destroy Devil’s Bastards station there and throughout the Hibernating Expanse. Our agents on Illusion Sea report that the Human Empire Fleet rotates out every one-hundred-twenty-days. There is a twenty-five-day gap between the old Naval unit and the incoming unit. The next such gap is in sixty-one days. This is when we have planned our next attack.”

“Tell me something Mattaliano. Why should we trust our agents this time? Were not they the ones who told you the last attack would be met with minimal resistance? That our sixty-sixth Expeditionary Forces could just land and hold a parade down the middle of the planetary Capital city? Did not our alley promise us the same support the last time we tried to free our rightful territory? Tell me was it not this mistakes that led to the total DESTRUCTION of more than ten thousand of our brave subjects?” Asked the Exalted Supreme High Chancellor Innocenzo Juliana with a deadly snarl in his voice.

“Please understand Exalted one. Neither our alley nor our Intelligence network expected the arrival of the Bitch’s personal Battlegroup.” Mattaliano said as he dropped to his knees and slammed his forehead into the floor of the throne room. He prayed for one of the few times that the Leader of the Gorgonzola Empire showed mercy on those who angered him. “ALL of our reports had the Bitch on Hades.”

Juliana leaned back in the throne contemplating his newest Grand War Commander of Preparation. The failures of the last Expeditionary Force to reclaim the seven systems of the Hibernating Expanse belonged to this man’s predecessor. In a rare moment of charity Juliana waved off the Royal Executioners. He would give this fool before him one chance to prove himself. “Mattaliano you say that the next Expeditionary Force can be in position to reclaim our rightful territory in two standard months. Give the order to have them move into position.”

“At once sire.” With that order Mattaliano scrambled from the throne room. The next person to stand before Juliano was the Overlord for Corsica region. The man was held in place by heavy chains of budralt steel. This was the man that had failed to gather the needed forces to retake the Hibernating Expanse. The only mission for the Overlord of that region. For the past year and a half this man had languished in a windowless cell in the dungeon of the Palace. His only visitor had been his wife who now resided in one of the Royal brothels. The rest of his family were little better than slaves spread throughout the Empire. His sons worked the Therhil gas mines of Gobbawei. His only daughter who once lorded her superiority over the servants of the Overlord Palace now washed the underthings for the new Overlord family as a personal maid. Today would be this man’s last day in the light.

“Paluzzi, before I have your sentence carried out. Do you have any last words?” Juliano asked as the massive metal sculpture was pushed into the throne. This was an ancient torture going all the way back to ancient Greece. The brazen bull was known to unleashed unimaginable pain upon its victims in ancient Greece.

The tyrant Phalaris allegedly commissioned this torture device to exercise his sadistic streak. Victims were sealed inside the gleaming bull and slowly burned to death. A series of pipes on the inside made it sound as if the victim's wailing and thrashing were the sound of an actual bull, giving this torture implement a decidedly macabre streak. In the millenniums sense those days the Gorgonzola Emperors had perfected the technology. Where a victim would die in hours in those ancient days. It now took days for a victim to die.

Paluzzi took one look at the twelve-foot tall, four-foot thick, eight-foot long, shining metal bull and began to scream for mercy. “NO! MY LORD! NOT THAT! BEHEAD ME INSTEAD! PLEASE! I BEG OF YOU! SHOW MERCY! KILL ME IF YOU MUST! ANYTHING BUT THAT! DRAW AND QUARTER ME IN THE SQUARE! JUST NOT THE BULL!”

“Put him in.” Juliano snarled cruelly. He loved it when the condemned struggled once they found out that their final punishment was the brazen bull.

The torture technicians opened the spin of the metal bull as the guards lifted Paluzzi into the waiting implement of his death. One of the many advancements in technology for the bull was the jell filling. Once a person’s naked flesh touch the jell it sucked them down. It was stronger than concrete but only hardened once it was heated to a certain temperature. In the meantime, the more a person struggled the tighter it held the victim. Juliana watched as Paluzzi was sucked down by the jell filling with a cruel smile. Once he was totally inside the bull’s belly the technicians sealed the back of the bull. It was now time for him to finish the sentencing of the condemned man.

“Place the bull at the entrance to the Red-Light zone. Set the temperature for one hundred to be followed by a one degree increase every hour until maximum. Once it has reach maximum set the timer for a thirty-minute burn followed by a cool down of thirty minutes then back to maximum for another thirty minutes.” The technicians just nodded their heads and went about carrying out their orders.

They knew that the Supreme High Chancellor wanted Paluzzi to suffer and he would. It would take ten days before the temperature reached the maximum of 300°F. until then the jell inside the bull would slowly roast Paluzzi alive. He would spend the next ten days in hell with no relief until the temperature reached maximum and the jell hardened. Then within the thirty-minutes at maximum heat the jell would boil away his flesh and end his fevered existence. The cold down followed by another thirty-minutes at max heat would set the jell into a clear block. Once that was done the final indignity would happen.

Paluzzi’s body would be pried from the bull then placed on display in the Gardens of Pain. He would become just one more statue in eternal pain for the masses to gawk at. One among the thousands that had been tortured to death then persevered for all time. To be put on display as examples of what happens when you fail the Exalted Supreme High Chancellor for Gorgonzola Empire. They did not coddle their criminals within the true Empire the way they did in the rest of the human universe. There was no concept of rehabilitation here. Only punishment. Punishment that was public, painful, and taught the ideal of crime does not pay.

“Warlord Aquilina how long before the new Battle Platforms are ready to lunch?” Juliana asked as he thought about the massive warships that were the backbone of his space fleet. When his father had sat upon this throne there were fifty. Then during the last Succession War of the Human Empire that number fell to a pitiful dozen. It has taken him the last twenty-years to rebuild that power arm of his Fleet. Even now they fall short of their prewar time numbers. More than once he wished for the construction capabilities of the Human Empire.

The total loss of the orbital docking rings and Space Yards of Ryan’s Run had crippled his nation’s ability to build and maintain their Naval Space Fleet in ways that the Human Empire could never have guessed. Even now, almost forty years later, they were still feeling the effects of that one attack. More than the loss of the construction planets of Rocrorix and Hilion. It had taken his father ten years to first find suitable planets to relocate their ship construction yards. Then another four years to do the actual relocation. It has only been in the last five years that those shipyards have been at full construction.

The greatest challenge had been the reconstruction of the orbital rings and space elevators. Unlike his grandfather, his father had spread out the new shipyard construction facilities between four planets. Even then it still took manpower to operate the construction equipment. Most of that manpower came from convicted criminals. Condemned souls who had no reason to push themselves to meet quotas. It was Warlord Aquilina’s duty to motivate these individuals.

“At the present rate of construction Supreme Chancellor, the newest Battle Platform will be ready in time for the push to retake the Hibernating Expanse. This will bring the total number of Battle Platforms to forty-four. If you can give me another five months sire, I will be able to give two more Battle Platforms. With six years I can produce another fourteen Battle Platforms.” Aquilina answered with a bow.

“I see.” Juliana said as he stood up from his throne. He slowly walked over to the map table that currently showed the border area between the Human Empire and his own nation. He ran his hand over the Hibernating Expanse. The area that the Human Empire called the Highlands system. He placed the index finger of his right hand on the planet Apollo 6. “This planet is the key to the whole Expanse.”

“Sire?” Grand Warlord of The Undefeated Divisions, Siriano Leonti asked quietly.

“The Maroon Earth is the key to the whole Expanse. We take it and the rest of the Expanse will fall in a matter of weeks. We must take and hold that one planet.” Juliana explained for his gathered Warlords. Turning to his Grand Warlord of the Navy Amore Sala. “Sala how many Fleet Squadrons can we spare from our other borders?”

“At most we can pull seven full Fleet Squadrons. That is a total of fourteen battlegroups. That is all we can spare without endangering our border security. Anymore will leave us open to attack by Balzac and counterattack by the Human Empire.” Sala explained as he thought about the number of warships that both nations could bring to bear against his nation.

Sala wasn’t like most of the Warlords that gathered within the throne room. His loyalty lay with the people of his nation not to the Chancellor. If given half the chance he would advise against another futile attempt to retake the Hibernation Expanse. The warning of Empress Maiha Nakatoma still range in his ears. Even after thirty-years. He still remembered the devastation that one battlegroup from their Navy heaped upon his nation like it was yesterday. That was when the Human Empire Navy was just a quarter of its current size. The thought of more than four times the number of warships converging on his nation terrified him. Naval Battlegroups that would be supported by Shinigami Battle Platforms.

As much as they have tried to replicate those powerful weapons of war. The Gorgonzola Empire have failed continuously. Just to match the firepower of one Shinigami they would need to build a battle platform that was so massive it would be a small planet. Despite everything their spies have tried. The secrets of constructing the Shinigami has remained out of their reach. Not even the other nations have been able to crack the secret. Not even the formidable Secret Police of the Balzac Imperium Dictatorship have been able to penetrate the vail of secrecy that surrounds those ships. If anyone had cracked that secret Shinigamis would be everywhere.

“How great is the risk of a counterattack from the Human Empire or outright attack by Balzacians?” Juliana demand of the man.

“Both the Human Empire and the Balzacians are like crab-eating eels. They will see the movement of our Fleet Squadrons as blood in the waters. They will swarm over our borders and be within striking distance of our Capital by month’s end.” Sala told Juliana bluntly then drove the point home. “There would be nothing I or our Navy can do to stop them.”

“Warlord Sala are you advising against using additional Naval units to support the Crusade to reclaim our rightful territory?” Juliana asked with ice in his voice.

“I am only pointing out that we would weaken our border defense to the point that our enemies would be able to seize large swaths of our nation should we move the suggested units away from their current duties sire.” Sala knew exactly what Juliana was trying to do with his question. He wasn’t going to fall into the man’s trap.

“I see. Is there anyway to accomplish both?” Juliana asked pleasantly.

“No sire. This is one time where it is an all or nothing situation. We pull those seven Fleet Squadrons from their current duties. Then we must either destroy the Human Empire completely or they will roll over us like the Neanderthal-Gibbons of the Snowstorm Forests in a stampede.” Sala grunted as Juliana turned white at the idea of those massive animals stampeding. It did not happen often but when Neanderthal-Gibbons stampede the damage reaches the billions in gold credits.

“Thank you, Warlord Sala. Your advice is always enlightening. What is the minimum number of Fleet Squadrons that we can use to support the Expeditionary Force? Realistically please?” Juliana asked hoping to get the man on his side.

“As I said sire seven. No more than that though.” Sala answered. “Though I would not use more than three squadrons. That would give our Expeditionary Force a larger Naval support force. While not weakening our defensive force along our borders.”

“Thank you for your time and counsel Warlord Sala.” Juliana sighed. “You may go. Please see to arranging for the three Squadrons to join the Expeditionary Force.”

“At once sire.” Sala answered with a bow. Even as Sala and his aid left the throne the two men knew that the Expeditionary Force was doomed to failure. Once they were alone Sala turned to his aid. “Matteo, which of our Fleet Squadrons are questionable in their loyalty to the Empire?”

“The Tenth, Nineteenth, and the Thirty-first, sir.” Matteo answered knowing exactly what his superior wanted. The three Fleet Squadrons he had named were commanded by the most radical of Extremist Fascist Party members.

“Send the order for them to join with the Expeditionary Force at once. And Matteo.” When Sala had his aid’s full undivided attention he whispered. “Arrange for diner with Warlord Benedetto Dimitri at the Karma Oyster at seven past noon.”

“At once, my Lord.” Matteo answered then asked the one question that could get them both hanged in City Square. “Is it time for Blind Redemption?”

“Not yet Matteo. Though the next few months may push that choice upon us.” Sala answered as he continued to walk towards the exit. Once they were outside of the palace Sala sighed heavily before picking up their conversation from inside. “I fear that this next Crusade to liberate the Hibernating Expanse will bring down the full fury of the Human Empire. The false Emperor may not be his mother Maiha but make no mistake. Emperor James Nakatoma has her fury and blood lust. He will carry out the threat that Empress Maiha made all those years ago.”

“What threat was that sir?” Matteo asked politely.

“It seems that you are in need of a history lesson Matteo. At the end of the last war with the Human Empire Empress Maiha Nakatoma promised the total destruction of our capital. To quote that terrifying woman. ‘I don’t need to send one capital ship anywhere near your nations. Not when a single Corsair Class smuggler can get the job done. And gentlemen there are thousands of those within my Empire and they are all more than capable of delivering a seven-forty Core Cracker.’ I was there when she made that promise Matteo.” Sala told his aid honestly. “Mark my words Matteo that was no idle threat, but a promise written in stone.”

“Surely the Emperor James is not so rash?” Matteo asked of his superior and mentor. “He would not carry out such a brash and unrealistic threat.”

“Emperor James Nakatoma is her son. He is the great grandson of First High Lord of the Death Dealers James Owens. His own people call him Death’s own Emperor. With a bloodline like that what do you think?” Sala snapped then sighed. Unlike so many of his fellow countrymen Sala studied his opposite numbers across the borders.

“Emperor James is more than capable of carrying out his mother’s promise. The only reason he hasn’t is because we have not pushed the issue with the Hibernating Expanse. Raids across the border are one thing. In many ways it is an accepted form of border negotiation. What our current Supreme Chancellor is suggesting is no raid but all-out war. Like his mother Emperor James is a warrior first. He will not standby and let us retake the Expanse. He will send in his Death Dealer Battlegroups. At the bare minimum. At most this planet shall become nothing more than a radioactive dust ring surrounding our sun.” Sala explained for his now frightened aid.

“Sir, is there anything we can do to keep this fate from happening?” Matteo asked.

“Pray, Matteo. Pray that our Chancellor sees reason and does not fall to his obsession with the Maroon Earth.” Sala told him honestly.

“Sir, I know that I am not as knowledgeable as you. Please explain to me what is so important about that one planet?” Matteo asked with real confusion.

“The Maroon Earth or as the Human Empire calls it, Apollo six, is the home world for James J. Owens, the man once called Death. The people of that world are unlike any within our Empire. Hell boy, they are unlike any people in all of Human space.” Sala chuckled as he remembered what one of his fellow Warlords said about the people of Apollo 6. “That planet breeds warriors the likes of which no other planet can. The people of Apollo six are an extremely harsh and ruthless people. They take no prisoners and spare no lives. They truly believe that they are on their own. They are a rude, crude, sociably unacceptable society. Not even our most formidable Grim Reaper Battle Division Commanders can even compare to the ruthlessness of the most common man, woman, or child of the world. In their eyes we are the enemy, one that be fought to the last PPC charge, last artillery shell, last bullet, and the last knife. Any battle fought on that planet is to the last man, woman, and child.”

“By the Gods! Why would people who are our rightful subjects feel this way towards us? Surely they know that we only wish to liberate them from the oppression of the False Empyreal Family and their lackies the High Families.” Matteo asked in shock.

“Matteo the people of the Maroon Earth have seen themselves as citizen of the Human Empire sense the time of the Great Shattering.” Sala explained then leaned close to his young aid. “The truth may not be one that you want to believe. It is still the truth. We the Gorgonzola Empire have no rightful claim to that planet or the rest of the Hibernating Expansion in the eyes of the Human Empire. The only reason we have tried to conquer that thrice be damned area of space is for the vanity of our Royal Chancellors.”

“I don’t understand sir. What is so important about the Expansion for the Chancellors that we have tried to conquer it?” Matteo asked in confusion.

“It goes back to the time of the Great Shattering, Matteo and the birth of history’s greatest terrors.” Sala could tell that his aid had no idea of what or who he was talking about. “The Usurper Humbert Carpenter.”

“What does the Usurper have to do with our Chancellors and the Hibernating Expanse?” Matteo asked with even more confusion in his voice.

“During the Great Shattering, Carpenter declared that all human space would be divided into ten parts. Each with their own ruling Overlord. It was this division that led to the ten Great Houses of the time going to war. Over the next twelve years three of those Great Houses disappeared from history. Two pf those Great Houses were wiped out by the Human Empire’s Royal Family. Allowing them to absorb the planets that Carpenter bequeathed those families. In an attempt to save his family, the oldest son of the third Great House married into the Chancellor’s Family. While the oldest child married into the Human Empire Royal Family. The problem is that the oldest child was a female. The section of the Human space that was bequeathed to that family is the Hibernating Expanse. While the Human Empire foolishly recognizes the rights of females to inherit. The Gorgonzola Empire never has. By our laws of inheritance our Chancellors have always owned those planets.” The more Sala explained about the Chancellors’ blind obsession with the Hibernating Expanse. “The truly sad part is that only one side was willing to compromise. Sadly, we are not the side that was willing to sit down and talk.”

“What I don’t understand sir?” Matteo grunted out as he had been punched.

“The Human Empire has always been the ones willing to negotiate. Until forty years ago the Human Empire would send a full formal Delegation to discuss the systems in question. They were always turned away at the spaceport. Then the former Chancellor intervened in the Last Succession War of the Human Empire.” Sala sighed. “And they turned loose their Naval power on our nation. They did it to punish us for his stupidity. If you haven’t noticed. We are still paying the price for their anger.”

“Sir, is it true that it was only a single carrier task force that destroyed Ryan’s Run and the orbital rings there?” Matteo asked quietly. It was a will know secret that one did not talk about that dark time. At least not in public.

“Yes, it is, Matteo. They attacked our Naval Base at Ryan’s Run with four carrier battlegroups while the battleships of that task destroyed our two battle platforms and their support fleets that were station at Ryan’s Run. Only one other time in human history has a Naval Task Force delivered such an overwhelming blow to a nation’s defensive force.” Sala looked around to make sure that they were alone. “You wonder why I fear that nation. It is simple. Once they unleash their thrice be damned Death Dealer Battlegroups nothing. I mean nothing. Will stop them until they are marching down the Avenue of Flags right up to this Royal Palace Gates.”

“Sir, are they really that deadly? I do not know. I’ve never faced the Death Dealers in combat.” Matteo stated bluntly.

“There is a reason we have always call them the Devil’s Bastards, Matteo.” Sala sighed as he couldn’t figure how to explain the experience of facing the men of the Death Dealer battalions. “They are a force of nature that cannot be stopped.”

“I don’t understand sir. Are they not just well-trained soldiers?” Matteo asked.

“No, Matteo they are not. They are more than just soldiers. How can I put this and not sound as if I am talking about some mystical force.” Sala told his aid as he gathered his thoughts on Death Dealers. Then an idea came to him. “Matteo, how long does it take to train just one of Light Infantrymen?”

“No more than twenty weeks, sir. Another five weeks if they’re Jump Infantry. If it is one of our Stormtroopers a total of six months from start to finish. Why?” Matteo asked as he thought about the men that made up the Armed Ground Forces of the Gorgonzola Empire’s Military.

“It takes a full year to train just one Death Dealer. When they say that they are the best of the best, they mean it. Only one percent of their starting number ever passes their full training. Even a failed Death Dealer candidate has twice the training that one of Stormtroopers. That is before they receive their bio-AIs. Now that there are these new Second Generation Death Dealers their threat has tripled. One Second Gen Death Dealer is equal to ten of our best Stormtroopers. Before you say that our Grim Reapers are a match don’t waste your breath. They’re not. Of all the militaries in human space there is only one force that is equal to the Death Dealers. The USSR’s Forgotten Soldiers. Even then I would still give the Death Dealers the advantage by two to one.” Sala explained for Matteo. “There is really no military force in all of human space that can stand against the Death Dealers for long. They maybe pushed into a corner. They maybe knocked back on their heels. They may be given a bloody nose, fat lip, and a black eye. In the end they will get their shit together and come after blood.”

“What does that mean for our Expeditionary Force sir?” Matteo asked with real worry.

“That means we are sending good men to their deaths, Matteo.” Sala sighed as they entered the Ministry of Military. “God help us, let us hope that the Emperor James doesn’t decide to carry out Empress Maiha’s promise.”

“And if he does sir?” Matteo asked fighting to hide the fear in his voice.

“We do the only thing we can do. We die.” Sala told him bluntly.

Goulcrest The City of Ebony, Apollo 6, Highlands System
House of Parliament, Government Center

Grayson Vanderbilt ground his teeth as the Minister of Defense gave his monthly report. Once again, his motion to have the Imperial Naval Fleets removed from Apollo 6 airspace had been denied. Even though he knew the rotation of the Carrier Groups and had passed that information onto his contacts within the Gorgonzola Empire. Then this ass wipe tells him and the rest of Parliament that he wants to increase the number of PDF standing troops. How the hell was he going to control an additional 60,000 Planetary Defense Force soldiers. As it was, he barely had control over the current force of 180,000 standing troops. If the man got his increase that would cut deeply into the founding of his department.

He needed to think of a way to derail the man’s motion to increase the number of the standing PDF troops and fast. Grayson looked over at his counterpart in the Department of Natural Resources, and Cousin Devin Vanderbilt. Despite his distaste and distrust for his cousin, Grayson knew that he would back his play. If for no other reason that he was a Vanderbilt. At least that was what Grayson hoped. That would be one vote against the Minister of Defense.

Grayson looked past his cousin to the next five members of the Parliament Executive Counsel. Of the five he knew that three would vote his way, one was iffy, and the last would vote against him out of opposition. That might give him enough votes on the Counsel to veto the proposal. Looking back the other Grayson counted number of votes that would good his way. Out of the remaining eight members of the Counsel he was sure of only two. The rest were all up in the air, with the exception of one. That one vote could sway the others. Grayson was brought out of his scheming thoughts by the Minister of Defense’s closing marks.

“And by adjusting the budge to include these new troop levels. We can petition the Empyreal Military High Command to remove the Death Dealer Divisions that we now currently host. These new forces will be allocated to the six new PDF orbital defense platforms that are currently under construction along the geosynchronous orbital ring. As for the progress of those stations two of the six are complete. The last four will be completed by the end of next year.” Minister Macalister finished. This the point that Grayson was waiting for and pounced.

“Esteemed members of Parliament I demand to be heard.” Grayson called out as he stood up. When the Chief Prime Minister reluctantly acknowledged him, Grayson smiled. “For the past five years the Minister of Defense has come before this august body demanding a larger allocation of our planetary budge for his Ministry. Each time he has used the same excuses. Yet he has failed to reach his stated goals. Currently the PDF takes up one third of a budget. Two years ago, Minister Macalister lobbied for the Orbital Defense Stations. At the time he promised us six new such stations within twelve months. Yet here we are two years later and only a third of those stations have been delivered. At the same time, he lobbied for the stations he also included raising the standing number of our PDF troops to the current level of one-hundred-eighty thousand. Now he wants another increase of a standing sixty-thousand troopers. Along with an increase of founding that would raise his departments allocation of the Planetary budge to half. When will he stop? When will his greed and paranoia be satisfied? When all of our citizens are marching to the beat of his war drums and goose stepping down Capital road? When we no longer have a voice in this hollowed Hall of Government? Do we allow this man to become the Dictator of his dreams? I say no. we must put an end to Minister Macalister’s demented dreams of a Grand Imperial Army now. We must restore sanity to our planetary government and return peace to our fragile economy.”

“Once again the Minister of Energy spouts his paranoia.” Macalister started off only to be silenced by the Chief Prime Minister.

“Silence Minister Macalister. Minister Vanderbilt has not yielded the floor. Nor has the Chair recognized you at this time.” The Chief Prime Minister stated calmly. “Minister Vanderbilt please continue with your rebuttal.”

“Thank you esteemed Chief Prime Minister for your consideration, But I have already had my say on this matter. I freely yield the floor to my counterparts in the other Ministries. With one exception, Minister Macalister. I see no reason to give such a greed filled man more time to extort citizens.” Grayson said with bow hidden smile. He knew that his cousin and the other members of the Parliament Executive Counsel would carry out the attack on Macalister without further prompting. His comment about how the PDF already had a third of the planetary budget would drive the others to kill Macalister’s proposal.

Over the next five hours the other thirteen members of the Parliament Executive Counsel tore into Macalister’s proposal. Only the Chief Prime Minister remained silent. Grayson had counted on the rules of Parliamentary Procedure to keep the one real supporter of Macalister silent. It was the main reason he had turned down the nomination six years ago. There was no way he was going to let his opponents silence his vote by making it a tie breaker. Not yet anyway, not until he had total control over the Parliament’s one-hundred Representatives.

He wasn’t worried over the way the Hall of Lords would vote. They have been in his pocket since he first arrived on this hellhole planet thanks to his Uncle. It was always the House of Representatives that was the wildcards. He looked out at the gathered members of the House and had to hide his smile of triumph behind his hand. Already more than sixty of the voting lights showed as nay. It only took fifty-one to kill any proposal or bill. Doing a fast count Grayson reached a total of sixty-eight nays and the number of nays was climbing. All before the Chief Prime Minister called for a vote. Looking over at Macalister, Grayson could tell the man was raging in silent resignation of his defeat.

It didn’t take much after that to sway both the Parliament and Lords to vote for his new economic ‘growth plan’ for the Department of Energy. What the members of Parliament and Lords did not know was that one out of every three credits would be funneled off to support his secret army. An army that was now equal to that of the PDF. With a little more persuasion the PDF would find itself being cut by at least a quarter and the Satellite Defense Stations blasted into deep space. He just needed to figure out how to make the others see the need for a PDF as being obsolete. Yet before he could make his move to carry out those plans Macalister pulled a political end run around him and saved his damned PDF.

“Gentlemen, Lord and Ladies, would you leave our people defenseless? Have us rely on the generosity of the Empire for our protection? Just as we relied on that same so-called protection four-hundred-thirty year ago. Would you have our people suffer under another fifty-three years of tyranny? Yes, there are Death Dealers here now. Yet look what happened just a few short years ago. The Amazon Insurrection pulled two full Death Dealer Battlegroups from their assigned base systems. What assurances do we have that this one Division will remain here? I’ll tell you. NONE!” Macalister yelled as he swept his hand across his body in a slashing motion. “Do any of you know to what planet a Death Dealers loyalty belongs to?”

After waiting for a few seconds Macalister jumped up and slammed his fist down on his desk. “I’ll tell you. NONE! They’re loyal only to the Empire! They could careless if Apollo six fell to the hands of the Cheeseheads. This is not their home after all. Why should they care? They have no homes. Death Dealers are little better than mercenary bands that roam through our star ways.”

The Chief Prime Minister stood up and stopped Macalister in the middle of his impassioned plea to stop any cuts to his budge and forces. “Peace Minister Macalister. Though your request for more funding has been denied we shall not be cutting your current budget. To do so would-be folly on our part at the minimum, criminal at the best, and deadly at the worst.”

Grayson ground his teeth in anger but hide his reaction to the Chief Prime Minister’s and Macalister’s counterattack on his plans. He knew that after such impassioned speeches he would be drug from the building and lynched in the nearest tree if he tried to cut the PDF budget now. Keeping their spending in check was one thing. Cutting their ability to defend the planet was another. Forced to retreat for now. Grayson bowed in defeat at the glare tossed his way by the CPM. Of all the men on Apollo six only the Planetary Governor held more power. With the matters of the nest yearly budget now settled the CPM dismissed the gathered Lords, Ladies and Representatives. Grayson and the rest of the Parliamentary Executive Consul all returned to their own offices to put final polish on the budget before sending it before the Governor to be signed.

Once he had taken care of his duties to the Parliament Grayson called for his aid Daniel Harris. Once the man had close the door to his office Grayson got down to business. “Okay Daniel what can you tell me about the Wolff matter?”

“Sir, we have finally been able to find where the Empress Maiha was able to hide him. Sir, I know that you don’t want to hear this, but Robert Wolff is beyond our grasp. Now and forever.” Daniel sighed and waited for his boss to explode. When Grayson did nothing but wave for him to continue his report, Daniel breathed easily for the first time in hours. “Wolff has been undergoing training as Death Dealer for the last year on planet Seth, in the New Egypt system. He completed his training ten days ago and was fitted with a new type of Death Dealer AI. Our spies have been able to find nothing else beyond that sir.”

“Then we have nothing else to worry about when it comes to that particular individual at least now. Though I do believe you are right about him now being beyond our grasp at least for now. I doubt that the Emperor will allow for his cousin and potential political hostage to be stationed anywhere near the border zones.” Grayson sighed as he leaned back in his desk chair. “Onto other business. Have our friends in the Gorgonzola Empire send word of their next Expedition?”

“Yes sir. They should arrive five days following the redeployment of the current Empyreal Naval Carrier Battlegroup overhead. They suggest that we begin our attack on the Death Dealers’ forty-third Airborne Border Division and it’s supporting APS Regiment. Sir I believe that you should know that the Cheeseheads plan to hit Apollo with at least two full Army Groups. As for the rest of the Highlands system they plan to use one Army Group for each planet within the system. Sir that is another eight Army Groups. Even if our forces on the other planets can eliminate the Death Dealer units on their planets there is no way that Emperor James can look the other way this time. He will have to send a counterattack force of equal or great force.” Daniel knew that he was pushing his luck with Grayson, but he felt it was his duty to point out just how precarious their position was in truth. Then he took a deep breath and gave the worst-case circumstance. “He might even resort to the use of seven-forty Core Crackers sir.”

“That will not happen Daniel. Trust me. Emperor James is many things, but he is no Maiha Nakatoma. He lacks the stomach to destroy a planet just to keep it out of the hands of other Nation. Granted if the Empress Maiha were still on the throne that would be a definite possibility. As for Emperor James sending a counterattack force that is also a non-possibility. He is a gutless politician now days. He will sue the Gorgonzola Empire for a peaceful solution. One where they will regain their rightful territory and we will gain total control of Apollo six.” Grayson chuckled as he thought about the massive amounts of natural resources that would be at his total command. He would finally become King of this planet and the surrounding system. The Highlands system would become a nation onto itself.

“Understood sir. I just wish that we could be there when that fool of an Emperor surrenders Control of the Highlands system. To finally be able to have control of our own fates will be a glorious feat of politics. You will go down in history as the Great Savor of the Highlands system sir.” Daniel exclaimed with real pride. Little did he know that Grayson wasn’t out to free the Highlands but subjugate it.

“If it is within my power Daniel, I’ll grant you your greatest desire. For now, though, send the word to our Commanders in the field. Update them on the new operational timeline. Be sure that they understand they’re to do nothing until the code word for combat operations has been given.” Grayson told Daniel with a smile knowing full well that by the end of this uprising Daniel Harrison would lay in an unmarked grave deep in the far Northern Icefields.

“Sir what code word or phrase should we use?” Daniel asked with real hope in his voice. To him the eve of his nation’s freedom was at hand.

“The Death Dealers have a battle cry do they not? Then let our code phrase be one to match it. Let me think.” Grayson knew that what he was about to say would set the tone for his power grab in the Highlands system. Then it came to him. “Howl with the Wolves! What better way to inspire our soldiers then to invoke the names for the great heroes of our planet.”

“Truly an inspiring battle cry sir. One that will have our men howling with each and every inch of territory that they claim for the Highlands Kingdom.” Daniel said as he turned and left the office of his boss.

Once he was alone Grayson opened the concealed bar in his office. Once he had poured himself three-fingers of whiskey Grayson stepped over to his office window. For the next serval hours, he stood there looking out over the city below towards the far mountain range. During that time Grayson did nothing than drink and think. He kept going over his plans. He knew that once the invasion started, he would have to tied down the Death Dealer Division within the Highlands System. Especially here on Apollo 6 for his plans to come to fruition.

“Six full armored infantry divisions on this planet alone. Half of which are PDF forces loyal to me. More than enough to handle those bastard Death Dealers. I need to insure that the leadership for the Death Dealers is removed from play at the start. They may be the best of the best, but they are still handicapped by the Chain of Command. I need to treat them like a rock-snake. Cut of the head and the body will die. The best way to do that would be by poisoning. The problem is the Death Dealers only eat on post.” The answer came to him as a Lossi-3 cleaning android entered his office. “A bomb. One cleaning bot in the right place. Then boom. No more Death Dealer chain of command.”

Grayson watched as the Lossi-3 moved about the room cleaning. The silver skinned female android was one of the newer models that had become popular in the last few years. There was something about the way it moved that unsettled Grayson. The android moved in an unbelievably human manner. If it had not been for the silver skin and blank face Grayson would have sworn that he was looking at a human in costume. He forced himself to shake off the feeling.

“When this is done, I need to seize control of Wizard Industry Robotics. Their craftsmanship with these Lossi-threes is too close to human for their own good. Androids should not be this lifelike.” Grayson grumbled as he fixed himself another drink. When he turned back around the android was emptying the trashcan. “Then again I wonder if they could be made to look even more human?”

Hearing this the android stood upright and turned to face him. “Those would be the Holiday-seven pleasure models, master. They come in three models. Female, male, and shemale. All are designed for full sexual pleasure for their owners. For further information on the Holiday-seven pleasure androids. Please contact your nearest Wizard Industry Robots outlet and talk with a registered Sales associate. Will there be anything else master?”

“No return to your duties.” Grayson ordered as he looked up at the clock on his wall. “Damn it had not realized that it was so late.”

Grayson downed his drink grabbed his briefcase and headed out the door to his office. As he was leaving the Lossi-3 was removing the vacuum cleaner from supply cart. This peaked his attention. “Droid, how often do you vacuum the offices?”

“Once every three days master. As per the scheduled instructions for this office.” The android answered as it pulled in the vacuum’s power cord. “Will that be all master or do you have further instructions for this Lossi-three unit.”

“No that will be all.” Grayson answered then left the office. As he was walking through the outer office area, he heard the vacuum cleaner starting up.

Once the Lossi-3 was alone in the office for the Department of Energy’s Minister its movements changed. The first thing that it did was to reach up and grab the covering over its face. With a twist it removed the false covering to reveal a very humanoid face. The cyborg woman with her eyesight now unencumbered went set about carrying out her real duties. She opened a panel in her left arm and drew out a patch card that she connected to Grayson's computer. Ten second later she had completed the download of Grayson’s hidden computer files. Next, she opened the office safe. After taking digital photos of everything in the safe she closed and secured it before moving onto her next task. Checking the six hidden micro-cameras and mini microphones that she had placed in this office more than eighteen months ago. After an additional ten minutes the cyborg replaced her face covering.

For the next five hours the cyborg went about her duties as a Lossi-3 cleaning android. Just after midnight she entered the service area for the android cleaning staff. After securing the supply cart she quickly retrieved the actual Lossi-3 she had replaced from the closet where she had stashed it. After slipping into an underground passageway the cyborg retrieved her synthetic skin suite. After securing her human appearance the cyborg dressed quickly and walked towards her exit. During her long trek thought the underground of Goulcrest the cyborg analyzed all the new data that she had gathered from Grayson’s office. None of which filled with her with hope for peaceful future. She emerged from the underground network of tunnels the cyborg woman looked up at the false light of early morning sunrise.

“How many more times must the greed of man and false promises push the Empire into a war? Damned fool. Vanderbilt is thrice the fool that Richelieu ever dreamt of being. Hell, he’s a bigger frack stick than my father ever hoped of being. He would set himself up as a puppet King just to rape the peoples of the Highlands system.” The woman sighed as she looked back towards Government Central Plaza.

With what she had the cyborg quickly headed for the safehouse her team was using. As she traveled through the early morning streets the cyborg contemplated her next move. She currently face several major problems. The first of which was the very nature and size of the data itself. The sheer size would draw unwanted attention if her team sent it to Command by FTL link. Yet it was also extremely time sensitive. That was the other problem she faced, time. Time that she and the Empire did not have. The data would save lives and possibly prevent a galactic war.

That brought up the next problem. How was she going to get the data into the right hands while still keeping it secure. The only way that she could think of was a currier on a fast smuggler. She knew that she still had connections within a certain less than scrupulous portion of the population that could handle that requirement. The problem is which of her team could she trust with the data. The answer was as clear as the synthetic skin nose on her face. All of them. Like her, all of her team were total body cyborgs in the service of the Emperor’s Hand.

Like all members of the Emperor’s Hand, they were all former criminals with a second chance at life. Each one having been freed from the terrifying life as High Priest Control units. Their only tied to their former lives, their brains, safely sealed within their dushiulium steel skulls. The life support systems for those brains housed deep inside the dushiulium steel bodies. Of all the refined metals in all of known human space dushiulium steel was the strongest. It is so strong that it is damned near indestructible.

It was this metal that Shinigami hauls were constructed from. It was for this reason the saying ‘That it takes a Shinigami to kill a Shinigami’ came about. If not for the prohibitive cost of refining the metal, it would have long ago become the construction material of choice for civilian ship builders and manufacturers alike. As it was for this reason that only the most powerful of Military and Government agencies could afford the metal. Then again, no civilian knew where the metal was mined from or where it was refined. These two locations were among some of the greatest held secrets within the Empire known only to a select few.

“How did the retrieval go Blackjack?” Asked the male cyborg asked as she entered the safehouse with blank expression on his face.

“Went off without a hitch Copperhead. Now the hard part begins. Get me Stone Viper over in Blackwater port and Fea’s Viper in Rockaway port.” The woman said as she shed her trench coat. “Where’s Cutback and Sidestep?”

“Downstairs preforming PMC on the weapons, boss. Why?” Copperhead asked with worry. He knew that if Blackjack was wanting both Stone Viper and Fea’s Viper on the horn then a shitstorm was on the horizon.

“Hot shit, intel that needs to be hand delivered ASAP is why Copperhead.” She said as she walked towards the one requirement her body needed to function. The portable Turbidity Cleanser station. If not for the need to cleanse her bio-support systems Blackjack could happily spend the rest of her cybernetically extended life sipping Last Night Defenders on the beaches of Tecumwall Paradise on Azuliv. After hooking up to the Cleanser and engaging the system flush Blackjack sighed. Looking back over at her second in command she turned cold. “The intel I got is to go out under the following Copperhead, no arguments. Urgent. Priority One. Top Secret. Emperor’s Eyes Only. Wave Dancer Red protocols. Burn over intercept. Hand deliver no hand off or second party intervention. Currier expendable.”

“HOLY SHIT! What the frack has that gods be damned asshole cousin of mine gone and done this time?” Copperhead snapped. For the first time in five years referring to his old life as David Vanderbilt.

He was once a low-level member of the Vanderbilt High Family until he was ordered to take the fall so his family could cover up for his cousin’s mistake at Hyperion 7. The fact that he was the black sheep of the family at the time didn’t Copperhead in the political powerplays within the Vanderbilts. When the Head of the Emperor’s Hand offered him the chance to avoid becoming a High Priest Control unit, he jumped at it. He didn’t care that it meant he would become a full-body cyborg. That his only connection to humanity would be nothing more than his brain.

“Do the terms High Treason, Active Rebellion, Sedition, Conspiring with the Enemy, Adding and abetting an Enemy Nation, Espionage, Embezzlement of Government Funds, have any fracking meaning for you?” She asked as the Cleanser pumped the waste chemicals from her life support systems. “Oh, and those are just the fracking tip of the iceberg. I know that my family were a bunch of criminals back on Hades, but we never went out of our way to actively undermine the Empire.”

“Damnation. I knew that I should have just killed that little fracker when we first arrived on planet. It would have saved us all a lot of aggravation.” Copperhead snarled as he punched the wall. “Care to tell me again why you stopped me boss?”

“Because our orders were to observe and report Copperhead. I will not repeat myself on this matter again. Before you say ‘I told you so’ don’t. I agree with you that killing Grayson Vanderbilt would have save us a lot of heartburn, but we lacked evidence of his crimes.” Blackjack told him with real regret in her voice. “Just remember that we do not just execute citizens of the Empire without evidence of their crimes or orders from the Emperor.”

“I know that Blackjack. Frack! All members of the Hand know this and follow it. We don’t like it at times, but we still follow our mandate.” Copperhead told her with grim determination. “That doesn’t mean we have to like it at times.”

“Of all the members for the Hand, I know the feeling better than most Copperhead.” Blackjack said as she unplugged from the Cleanser. “After all I was the first.”

“Is it true that you were once part of the Longfellow yakuza clan ma’am?” For the first time in his new life Copperhead had the chance to confirm the greatest rumor sounding his boss.

“I was more than just a part of the clan Copperhead. More than thirty years ago I was the criminal known as Peter Longfellow.” Blackjack answered coldly.

-----tbc-----

From the snowy mountain slopes I wish you all good luck, peace and harmony over the coming week. Stay safe, stay warm, and above all keep the hot coco flowing. As always comments are welcome. Remember that comments feed the muse.

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Comments

Another great chapter

Always look forward to another chapter of Wolff.
The Death Dealer stories are one of my top favourites along with The Marshalls Saga.
Please keep them coming.
Huggs,
Glenda

I agree with Glenda

I agree with Glenda

Wonderful tale

tmf's picture

Thanks.!

Love tmf

Peace, Love, Freedom, Happiness

As always.........

D. Eden's picture

An intriguing addition to the story. Nice way to bring another old character back into the story!

D. Eden

Dum Vivimus, Vivamus

Wolff and the endless Waltz

Love the detail and progression of the story. I wait with bated breath for the next installment. I also hope that you find inspiration and time to continue the Interview with a Lolita story.

Tinker

Truly enjoying it!

northmiester's picture

Not surprising as your imperial stories have always be amongst y favorite space opera stories!

Like Tinker...

My5InchFMHeels's picture

I have been hoping your muse would help finish the Lolita story, but I am enjoying the hell out of Wolff, Speed Demons, and Dragon Princess. I haven't started reading Maid wore Black yet... Star Wars mmorpg takes up a good deal of my reading time lately.

Was in the mindset to read Dragon Princess when I first started reading this chapter, but that didn't last long, and really got into this.... Thinking the Hand might be hidden heroes at the end.

Keep up the great work, your story is truly amazing.

Ahhhhh!

WillowD's picture

An awesome new chapter in the Death Dealer saga. Thank you.

Rope is pulling tighter

Jamie Lee's picture

Yep, the Cheeseheads are about to bite off more than they can chew. And if Maiha does what was promised the Cheesehead planet will become another scattering of asteroids.

Grayson thinks himself unbeatable, thinks the Death Dealers a push over without their commanders. He thinks too highly of himself and his plan, a plan that relies on his belief of cutting off the head paralyzes the body. This might be true with some aspects of the military. But he might have misjudged the individual Death Dealer with a lack of commanders.

With what Blackjack discovered, Grayson's rope lacks slack to keep his neck from snapping. He has yet to learn how short his life has become. It will come as a big shock when death pays him a visit.

Others have feelings too.