Inquisitor's Promise (Act Three, Chapter Fourteen)

The Holy League had been united, but the Grey Globe continued to move towards Earth. Aeneas and the members of his inner circle knew they had much to do and little time to prepare.

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Chapter Fourteen: Long Live the Emperor

Until the dying moments of Emperor Hannegan, Nikolai had never realized how much older his friend looked compared to him. Both of them were fifty-one years of age, with the Emperor being a month older than the Tsar. And yet, Emperor Hannegan looked to be in his sixties. Meanwhile, Nikolai could pass for a forty-year-old.

Perhaps one reason why Omaha was able to see the Tsar in a romantic light despite their age difference.

If Nikolai had to guess, it was most likely their habits. The Emperor had loved to enjoy his wine and his women. Meanwhile, the Tsar had intended to live a life of chastity as a monk. But Providence had other things in store for him when his older brother was assassinated.

In his dying breath, Emperor Hannegan had asked Nikolai to look after the Imperium, to look after his daughter Omaha, and also his son the younger Hannegan. To his daughter, he told her that he was happy that he could finally do at least one thing for her to be proud of. But Omaha was inconsolable.

Finally, Emperor Hannegan CII of Texarkana breathed his last. The Emperor was dead.

Nikolai knew that his work was not done yet, though. He ordered his troops to storm the Ziggurat. As expected, dark felinid defenders yet remained. But the defenders had only zeal; Imperial fireteams were able to make short work of them.

The only notable occurrence was a fire that broke out at the top level. This resulted in the destruction of the unfinished ‘temple’ of the Ziggurat, though the structure at large remained. More importantly, the Ziggurat’s files were unscathed. The dark secrets of the Cabal were now ready to be revealed.

The Battle of the Azov was won, but it did not feel like a victory.

Leaving his wife to mourn for her father, Nikolai spent the next two days looking into the Ziggurat’s files hoping for anything regarding the Cabal. These files had been informative, though not as much as the Tsar had hoped.

Firstly, Nikolai had learned of how extensive the golem productions were. They were all over the Azov. The dark felinids had taken all the infants they could get their hands on and sacrificed them to the dark god Moloch to produce as many golems as they could. The mangled parts of their infants were then used to power up their golem with unholy magic. Nikolai shuddered as he read the records, he knew of the history of the Golem Wars. Not wasting time, he quickly sent Slavian and Imperial troops in the Azov to find these factories and burn them to the ground.

The Tsar also learned about the history of Bashan Voronin. From these files, Nikolai learned that Bashan had founded the Cabal. Over two hundred years ago. It was even more of a surprise when Nikolai was informed that the official records of the Azov Autonomous Zone had zero mentions for any births or name changes of any Bashan Voronin in the last two centuries. And yet, the Tsar had been sure that the Dark Lord was born and raised here. Nikolai wondered on what he had learned. Just who was Bashan Voronin? Perhaps he may never know.

In addition, Bashan had worked with the Zaibatsu to build some sort of super-cyborg, amongst other projects. Nikolai couldn’t help but sigh. These tidbits were interesting, but they were not helpful in figuring out the Dark Lord’s whereabouts.

But the records had taught the Tsar one important fact: Bashan Voronin was a very integral part of the Cabal. If Nikolai could get rid of the Dark Lord, then the Cabal would surely go with him.

Furthermore, the production capacity of the Cabal had been greatly undermined. The liberation of the Zaibatsu had been disastrous for the Cabal, but the conquest of the Azov was fatal.

It was during the third day of Nikolai’s search in the Ziggurat’s records room that the Tsar was interrupted by someone unexpected, the Tsarina Omaha.

“Darling,” Nikolai said to his wife. “I can see Captain Paxton is here with you too.”

“Sir.”

“What are you doing here?” Nikolai asked, his face showing grave seriousness.

Omaha gave her husband an equally serious look. “I want to help, milord.”

Nikolai shook his head in return. “You don’t have to pretend that your father’s death doesn’t affect you.”

“It does, obviously. However, I’m not the only one who lost a father in the Azov,” Omaha replied. The Tsarina then showed Nikolai piles of Imperial dog tags in her hand.

“Her Highness had been helping us with the paperwork,” Paxton spoke up.

Proud of his wife, Nikolai smiled. “Thank you, darling. But it’s still proper for a princess of the Imperial House to observe the mourning protocol.”

“Papa’s body is being transported to the Capital to be buried,” Omaha answered. “I would observe the proper protocols, but things move fast.”

“What do you mean?” Nikolai asked in confusion.

Nikolai’s answer led Omaha and Captain Paxton to glance at one another. Paxton’s masked helmet hid any signs of emotions, but Omaha was clearly annoyed.

“Surely you jest, milord?”

Nikolai frowned. “What’s going on?”

“Did you check your brick?” Omaha asked.

Nikolai shook his head. “No.”

“His Highness is an old-fashioned type,” Paxton said jokingly.

“I should have known,” Omaha muttered. “I suppose we should just cut to the chase then.”

At this point, Paxton turned towards the door that he had entered through and signaled in a soldier who brought in a red-colored box with both hands. After taking the item from that soldier, Paxton opened the box and presented it to Omaha.

Nikolai watched the procession with curiosity. He was very much confused, though he had an idea of what might be happening.

And then the Tsarina took out what was inside of the box, it was the Imperial Crown.

Nikolai stared at the ornate headwear in front of him. Colored red and gold, it had a globe on top. Above that very globe was a cross. In front of that crown was the double-headed eagle of the Texarkana Imperium. On the sides were thirteen jewels lined up to symbolize the Thirteen Protectorates.

“I don’t understand,” Nikolai said.

“Then let me remind you,” Omaha said with a smile. “Only a man can ascend to the Imperial throne and a woman can claim the throne only if she has a husband to give it to.”

“I know of the Imperial laws of succession, but your brother is the Emperor now,” Nikolai pointed out.

“He was,” Omaha responded. “But he signed his abdication paper yesterday when he learned of papa’s death. People are calling him the Day Emperor now.”

“What kind of political machinations have you been doing?” Nikolai asked suspiciously.

“None, this was his own doing. I promise that we’ll have a proper coronation after we defeated the Grey Globe,” Omaha answered.

Nikolai nodded in agreement. He was not just Tsar Nikolai of Slavia anymore. He was also Emperor Nicholas of Texarkana. Long live the Emperor.

With that taken care of, Nikolai returned to the task at hand as the Imperials continued to comb through the Ziggurat. Nikolai couldn’t help but feel frustrated. There was little of the Cabal that they had recovered. And to make things worse, Bashan Voronin was nowhere to be found. Strange, the Tsar had expected the dark felinid to be hiding somewhere in the Ziggurat.

And so, the Tsar had his men search the Ziggurat brick by brick. But to no avail. The Slavo-Imperial search was such that the Ziggurat looked ready to fall apart should an earthquake or a storm hit the Azov. The Tsarina Omaha had had enough and decided to confront her husband.

“Milord, you should give it a rest. The troops had been at it for days now!”

“But Bashan had to be here, somewhere,” Nikolai said raggedly. The Tsar too, had been tireless in his search for the so-called Dark Lord of the Cabal.

“What if he’s not in the Azov?” Omaha asked.

Nikolai paused, deep in thought. “Perhaps,” he mused. “He would most likely be with his clone daughter, wherever she is.”

“Perhaps,” Omaha said. “Though CEO Honda was clear that Bashan was not exactly the fatherly type.”

Nikolai nodded. “I learned much from the archive. He was also known to be brutal to his own subordinates.”

But even as he said that Nikolai believed that the Dark Lord of the Cabal was most likely accompanying his ‘daughter’ in sabotaging the Zaibatsu’s supplying efforts. The Tsar couldn’t help but think of Shaka’s chase.

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