Post by starskyhutch76 on Nov 22, 2021 6:32:32 GMT
A heavy curtain of unease hung over the royal hall in the palace of the capital city of Euphorix. The Citadel guards who lined the marbled walls dared not look at the man who sat upon the elevated throne. Though the obsidian hued behemoths were more than twice his size, they were terrified of him. The soldiers were clones several generations over of the founder of the original Citadel. Because of the repeated cloning upon their DNA, the genius of the original was lost. To put it plainly, they simply weren’t very smart. This made Harry Hokum’s Machiavellian ability to make his most insidious plans a reality seem like nothing short of sorcery. So when Harry Hokum wasn’t in a good mood, no one was one was in a good mood.
And Harry Hokum was most assuredly not in a good mood. The brutish, lumpy yet muscular soldiers stood, clad in golden armor, eyeing him nervously as a servant girl dared to approach, walking up the small stairs to his throne with a platter with a goblet sitting on it. The small man, clad in a red ostentatious military uniform, dismissed her with a grunt and a wave of his hand without actually looking at her in acknowledgement. A few of the guards gave a sigh of relief that she was able to walk away unharmed.
Harry Hokum pondered how it had all come to this. It felt like Euphorix, …his trophy … his crown jewel… was becoming more trouble than it was worth.
If there was one thing that he had learned from the writings of his childhood hero, Adolph Hitler, was that a happy populace was a complacent populace. For a time, he had accomplished that with the people of Euphorix when he made them believe he had rescued them from the Spider Guild. His secret allies were more than willing to play the boogey men for him. They even found it amusing. One of Hitler’s lessons was that using a common enemy was a useful tool to unite your subjects.
This arrangement was beginning to unravel. His secret alliance with the Spider Guild depended upon his continuing to supply them with a steady diet of ‘political prisoners’. The Euphorans were beginning to ask questions about the midnight arrests. How dare they!
Euphorix’s revered forest witches were still posing a problem despite his Ministry of Propaganda’s best efforts to label them a dangerous cult. The citizens continued to hold them in high esteem. The populace could not be allowed to revere anyone above him.
Because of this growing dissatisfaction, there was a rumbling of nostalgia for the days when Queen Kallista ruled with her dashing husband, Primus, by her side. How quickly they forget that it was their marital squabbling that led to the destruction of the world’s protective force field, leaving them vulnerable to the Spider Guild. Where was the gratitude for his ‘rescue’ of them now?
The smart thing to do would be to destroy Euphorix and make another world the seat of the new Citadel Empire. While no more or less intrinsically valuable than any other world in the Vega system, it held symbolic value as the one world that was able to hold out against the old Citadel. It held value for him, as well, as a symbol of his triumph where his predecessors had failed.
If he were a religious man, he would pray for a solution to present itself. But despite the best efforts of the nuns at the orphanage where he had grown up, they had failed to beat the Godliness into him. If anything, their benevolent sadism had probably helped him onto the dark path his life had taken.
His brooding was interrupted by two large Branx warriors entering the room. Between the two of them was a struggling slip of a girl trying to break free from their grasp. She wore a short green dress and had an unruly mane of magenta hair. She looked pretty enough, so his curiosity was aroused. He took off his monocle and wiped it on his sash to clean it so he could get a good look at her. It was when they brought her closer that the grin left his face.
Those eyes! They were completely white, devoid of any trace of iris or pupil. They were the eyes of a forest witch. His first thought was that she would make a nice addition to his bed quarters. Now, it seemed, an execution chamber might be a more fitting place for her.
Get your hands off me, you uncouth savages,” the girl suddenly snapped at the Branx warriors. “Your fingers are not fit to touch a princess of the royal house of Euphorix!”
Harry Hokum smiled as he placed his monocle back over his right eyes. Despite his humble beginnings, he always liked to put on an aristocratic air. “A princess, eh?”
“So she claims, Lord Hokum,” one of the Branx warriors said. “We found her lurking outside the ruins of a forest witch tree temple in the royal arbor. She seemed somehow surprised by its destruction.”
The girl ignored the warrior. “Yes!” she exclaimed, jerking her arm from his grasp “You are addressing Princess Yrra, niece of Kallista, the woman who should rightfully be sitting on that throne instead of you!”
Harry Hokum found himself smiling despite himself. This one was cute when she was angry. A plot began to form in his head.
“So you say,” Hokum said, giving her an appraising look. “Your looks certainly point to good breeding. And that attitude of yours …. Well, let’s just say you sound like someone who is used to getting her way. You appear to have fallen on hard times, though. That dress has certainly seen better days.”
“Well, my trip home was not easy,” Yrra said nervously, thinking back to how she had paid to have herself smuggled through the Citadel blockade and back to Euphorix.
“Obviously, Harry Hokum said. “Your suffering as at an end.” He turned to one of the Branx warriors and said, “Princess Yrra is our guest. Take her to the guest quarters and tell the major domo to make sure that she is provided with proper attire for one of her stature.”
Yrra nodded graciously. “Thank you, Mister Hokum. I had been told that you were a ruffian. I am glad to see the rumors are untrue.”
Harry Hokum chuckled with an amicable gesture. “Well, I do have my moments. Now, go and enjoy yourself after your arduous journey. Your aunt had a wondrous assortment of bath crystals. I’ll see to it that they are sent you your quarters.”
*************************************************************************
As Princess Yrra soaked in the warm, rose scented waters of the enormous tub, she pondered her fate. She had no idea why the earthling usurper had not executed her. She would not question her luck, though, if it would help her to be reunited with her beloved, R’yandr. Surely, this was a sign that the fates were with her.
She cursed the day her selfishness had caused her to be separated from the gallant Tamaranian prince. If only she had an ounce of the courage of her aunt possessed. The heroic queen would not have done as she had done and fled when the opportunity presented itself. At the time, the never-ending conflict had begun to weigh on her, so when Synapse, the host of the ‘Tweener network, had appeared on the holo-vid telling everyone of the Sanctuary world of Kuraq. The Omega Men were offering escape to all Citadel refugees. Thousands were teleported right under the noses of the New Citadel. She escaped, too. And it turned out to be the worst mistake she had ever made.
Now, she had a second chance. If R’yandr would let her, she would spend the rest of her life making it up to him.
***********************************************************
“Well, out with it,” Hokum said, turning to the head of the Citadel guard. Every once in a while, one of the clone-soldiers would show some slight glimmer of the original’s intelligence. Those were the ones allowed to assume command, such as his general. The general had been giving him sideways glances since the princess had been led from the room.
Sire?” the general said, feigning innocence.
“You’ve been dying to ask me something, so spit it out!” Hokum commanded.
“That… girl. She’s both a forest witch and one of the Omega Men. Either one is reason enough to kill her. Why is she still alive?” The other guards grunted in agreement.
“The people are unhappy,” Harry Hokum said. “And when people are unhappy, they start getting bad ideas. Ideas that could cost me this world. I need something to bring the people together.”
Yes, sire,” the general agreed.
“Well, nothing brings people together like a royal wedding,” Hokum smiled.
“A… wedding?”
“Yes, a royal wedding with all the pomp and circumstance. The people will eat it up.” He leaned back in his throne and said, “Now, which one of you clowns wants to plan my bachelor party?”
And Harry Hokum was most assuredly not in a good mood. The brutish, lumpy yet muscular soldiers stood, clad in golden armor, eyeing him nervously as a servant girl dared to approach, walking up the small stairs to his throne with a platter with a goblet sitting on it. The small man, clad in a red ostentatious military uniform, dismissed her with a grunt and a wave of his hand without actually looking at her in acknowledgement. A few of the guards gave a sigh of relief that she was able to walk away unharmed.
Harry Hokum pondered how it had all come to this. It felt like Euphorix, …his trophy … his crown jewel… was becoming more trouble than it was worth.
If there was one thing that he had learned from the writings of his childhood hero, Adolph Hitler, was that a happy populace was a complacent populace. For a time, he had accomplished that with the people of Euphorix when he made them believe he had rescued them from the Spider Guild. His secret allies were more than willing to play the boogey men for him. They even found it amusing. One of Hitler’s lessons was that using a common enemy was a useful tool to unite your subjects.
This arrangement was beginning to unravel. His secret alliance with the Spider Guild depended upon his continuing to supply them with a steady diet of ‘political prisoners’. The Euphorans were beginning to ask questions about the midnight arrests. How dare they!
Euphorix’s revered forest witches were still posing a problem despite his Ministry of Propaganda’s best efforts to label them a dangerous cult. The citizens continued to hold them in high esteem. The populace could not be allowed to revere anyone above him.
Because of this growing dissatisfaction, there was a rumbling of nostalgia for the days when Queen Kallista ruled with her dashing husband, Primus, by her side. How quickly they forget that it was their marital squabbling that led to the destruction of the world’s protective force field, leaving them vulnerable to the Spider Guild. Where was the gratitude for his ‘rescue’ of them now?
The smart thing to do would be to destroy Euphorix and make another world the seat of the new Citadel Empire. While no more or less intrinsically valuable than any other world in the Vega system, it held symbolic value as the one world that was able to hold out against the old Citadel. It held value for him, as well, as a symbol of his triumph where his predecessors had failed.
If he were a religious man, he would pray for a solution to present itself. But despite the best efforts of the nuns at the orphanage where he had grown up, they had failed to beat the Godliness into him. If anything, their benevolent sadism had probably helped him onto the dark path his life had taken.
His brooding was interrupted by two large Branx warriors entering the room. Between the two of them was a struggling slip of a girl trying to break free from their grasp. She wore a short green dress and had an unruly mane of magenta hair. She looked pretty enough, so his curiosity was aroused. He took off his monocle and wiped it on his sash to clean it so he could get a good look at her. It was when they brought her closer that the grin left his face.
Those eyes! They were completely white, devoid of any trace of iris or pupil. They were the eyes of a forest witch. His first thought was that she would make a nice addition to his bed quarters. Now, it seemed, an execution chamber might be a more fitting place for her.
Get your hands off me, you uncouth savages,” the girl suddenly snapped at the Branx warriors. “Your fingers are not fit to touch a princess of the royal house of Euphorix!”
Harry Hokum smiled as he placed his monocle back over his right eyes. Despite his humble beginnings, he always liked to put on an aristocratic air. “A princess, eh?”
“So she claims, Lord Hokum,” one of the Branx warriors said. “We found her lurking outside the ruins of a forest witch tree temple in the royal arbor. She seemed somehow surprised by its destruction.”
The girl ignored the warrior. “Yes!” she exclaimed, jerking her arm from his grasp “You are addressing Princess Yrra, niece of Kallista, the woman who should rightfully be sitting on that throne instead of you!”
Harry Hokum found himself smiling despite himself. This one was cute when she was angry. A plot began to form in his head.
“So you say,” Hokum said, giving her an appraising look. “Your looks certainly point to good breeding. And that attitude of yours …. Well, let’s just say you sound like someone who is used to getting her way. You appear to have fallen on hard times, though. That dress has certainly seen better days.”
“Well, my trip home was not easy,” Yrra said nervously, thinking back to how she had paid to have herself smuggled through the Citadel blockade and back to Euphorix.
“Obviously, Harry Hokum said. “Your suffering as at an end.” He turned to one of the Branx warriors and said, “Princess Yrra is our guest. Take her to the guest quarters and tell the major domo to make sure that she is provided with proper attire for one of her stature.”
Yrra nodded graciously. “Thank you, Mister Hokum. I had been told that you were a ruffian. I am glad to see the rumors are untrue.”
Harry Hokum chuckled with an amicable gesture. “Well, I do have my moments. Now, go and enjoy yourself after your arduous journey. Your aunt had a wondrous assortment of bath crystals. I’ll see to it that they are sent you your quarters.”
*************************************************************************
As Princess Yrra soaked in the warm, rose scented waters of the enormous tub, she pondered her fate. She had no idea why the earthling usurper had not executed her. She would not question her luck, though, if it would help her to be reunited with her beloved, R’yandr. Surely, this was a sign that the fates were with her.
She cursed the day her selfishness had caused her to be separated from the gallant Tamaranian prince. If only she had an ounce of the courage of her aunt possessed. The heroic queen would not have done as she had done and fled when the opportunity presented itself. At the time, the never-ending conflict had begun to weigh on her, so when Synapse, the host of the ‘Tweener network, had appeared on the holo-vid telling everyone of the Sanctuary world of Kuraq. The Omega Men were offering escape to all Citadel refugees. Thousands were teleported right under the noses of the New Citadel. She escaped, too. And it turned out to be the worst mistake she had ever made.
Now, she had a second chance. If R’yandr would let her, she would spend the rest of her life making it up to him.
***********************************************************
“Well, out with it,” Hokum said, turning to the head of the Citadel guard. Every once in a while, one of the clone-soldiers would show some slight glimmer of the original’s intelligence. Those were the ones allowed to assume command, such as his general. The general had been giving him sideways glances since the princess had been led from the room.
Sire?” the general said, feigning innocence.
“You’ve been dying to ask me something, so spit it out!” Hokum commanded.
“That… girl. She’s both a forest witch and one of the Omega Men. Either one is reason enough to kill her. Why is she still alive?” The other guards grunted in agreement.
“The people are unhappy,” Harry Hokum said. “And when people are unhappy, they start getting bad ideas. Ideas that could cost me this world. I need something to bring the people together.”
Yes, sire,” the general agreed.
“Well, nothing brings people together like a royal wedding,” Hokum smiled.
“A… wedding?”
“Yes, a royal wedding with all the pomp and circumstance. The people will eat it up.” He leaned back in his throne and said, “Now, which one of you clowns wants to plan my bachelor party?”
