The Emperor walked haltingly into the Imperial Council Chamber. His eyes were hollow, his face thin. His flesh looked as thought it had been boiled away, leaving only shiny skin stretched over his skeleton.

  He smiled and waved and the assembled Ministers.

  The ministers chattered and fussed among themselves, fretting. The Emperor seated himself slowly. He gestured toward Minister Aster to begin.

  Minister Aster was old, but he looked hale and hearty compared to The Emperor.

  "Your Imperial Majesty," he said, rising. "The Imperial Council has a matter of grave concern to discuss. With your permission, we'd like to forego the usual proceedings to discuss this matter."

  The Emperor nodded for him to continue.

  Aster cleared his throat. As the most senior member of the Imperial Council, he had the most cachet, the richest perks. It also meant the most uncomfortable jobs fell to him.

  "It is clear to the Imperial council that your health is poor, your Imperial Majesty." He cleared his throat. "We thrive under your leadership, but the Council believes it is time to discuss succession."

  The Emperor smiled wanly.

  "Have we not discussed this already?" he said. "This is a natural cycle. If you will but be patient, I will soon be well."

  Minister Aster's brows knitted, and his lips pursed.

  "As you've said, your Imperial Majesty. However, your view may not be objective." He cleared his throat again. "It is the opinion of this council that you may, in fact, not be aware of the severity of your own condition."

  The Emperor's smile turned wry.

  "I understand the threat to the Imperium, if I were to fall ill," he said.

  "Your Imperial Majesty, we are not afraid that you will fall ill. You are clearly already ill. We are afraid you will die with no successor."

  "That would be catastrophic. However, let me assure you--"

  "Your Imperial Majesty," Minister Aster interrupted, "we can no longer accept the risk. The Imperium cannot countenance the risk. We of the Imperium Council voted last night. If you will not prepare a successor, the Council will choose one."

  The air around the Council Chamber grew still. Wide eyes watched the Emperor. His haggard face slid into sadness.

  "Have you so little faith in me?" he asked quietly. "Eight hundred years have I ruled, and your hearts turn so quickly?"

  "The Imperium is greater than the Emperor," Minister Aster responded. "We must ensure the continuation of the Imperium."

  The Emperor's chin came up.

  "You don't know what you ask. But if it is the will of the Council, I will choose a successor. I only ask a little time to come to a decision."

  "Time is short. We have prepared a list of candidates that you may find helpful."

  "Of course you have. I will retire now to consider the matter."

  The Emperor struggled to his feet. Idrian Sertu hurried to his side with a crafty grin.

  "May I help you, your Imperial Majesty?" he asked.

  "Ah, Idrian, that's well-timed. Come with me to my private chambers. We have something important to discuss."

  Idrian's smile grew wide and wicked as he shepherded the Emperor toward the dorr. The rest of the Council stiffened. Idrian and the Emperor slowly left the Council Chamber. A buzz of panicked conversation grew among the remaining Ministers.

  "Surely he would not!" one of them cried. "Idrian? That buffoon?"

  "I told you all this was a terrible idea."

  "It's a terrible idea now. It would have been better if we'd forced the Emperor's hand weeks ago."

  "But would he choose Idrian? So quickly?"

  "He did rescue him as a child. Maybe he has some paternal feelings?"

  "Only because he felt guilty about the way the Chrysanthae had been handled."

  "But surely he would not! Idrian is so... so young and selfish! It would be madness!"

  Minister Aster's brows drew down.

  "We will do what is right for the Imperium," he said darkly. "Whatever the Emperor chooses."

  The Emperor shuffled into the private chamber with a frown. Idrian followed with growing glee, his pointed ears twitching.

  The Emperor's private chambers were another series of meeting rooms, smaller and less formal than the Council Chamber. The room they entered was wide and ornately decorated, with plush, comfortable seating scattered around. A marble fireplace dominated one wall.

  The Emperor stood straight and stretched his shoulders. He shook his body a little.

  "I have husbanded my energy too parsimoniously," he said, "so now I must spend it lavishly." He sighed. "Very well." He turned to the young, elfin Minister of War. "What do you think of this matter, Idrian?"

  Idrian lowered his head to hide his smile.

  "Your Imperial Majesty is wise. I would follow your Imperial Majesty's lead in this matter."

  "Would you?" The Emperor walked back and forth, stretching, working out the kinks in his joints. He moved a little more freely now. "Tell me, Idrian, do you still bear a grudge for the destruction of the Chrysanthae, your people?"

  Idrian's smile froze. His teeth gritted.

  "Your wisdom guides the Imperium," he said stiffly, his head still down. "It is not my place to question your Imperial Majesty."

  "Hmm. As you say." The Emperor stretched some more. "Do you know why the Imperium eliminated the Chrysanthae?"

  Idrian remained stiffly silent for a long moment. Slowly his jaw cracked open and he spoke.

  "The Imperium feared the power of the Chrysanthae. It feared that they would take over the Imperium."

  "Not quite. Did you know that they were part of the Imperium, once? The Chrysanthae were citizens."

  "I am aware."

  "As a species, your people betrayed the Imperium."

  "That is what some people believe, yes."

  "They betrayed the Imperium many times. Individually, and as a society. Over and over. They were simply a risk too great to bear, a force too destructive to those loyal to the Imperium. Their perfidy could no longer be countenanced. That is why they were ejected as citizens. That is why they warred against the Imperium. That is why they were destroyed."

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  "As your Imperial Majesty says," Idrian choked out.

  The Emperor sighed.

  "You are the last of the Chrysanthae. I spared you as a child and had you raised in the Court. I believed that the flaw in the Chrysanthae was in their society, not in their people. That their serial betrayal was something that could be eliminated."

  "Your Imperial Majesty is as kind as he is wise." Idrian stared furiously at the floor.

  "Tell me, Idrian. If you had control of the Imperium, if you could wield ultimate power, what would you do?"

  Idrian's face flickered between emotions. Vengeance, thoughts of war, dreams of a fire across the galaxy flitted across his mind. So much effort and struggle, working with the conspiracy for this moment, and now he didn't even need them. Could it be so easy? Would the Emperor simply hand him the throne?

  He carefully considered his words.

  "I would carry on your legacy, your Imperial Majesty, ruling the Imperium with the same wisdom and justice you have always displayed, to the utmost of my abilities."

  "Noble words. You certainly wouldn't do anything untoward, then? Nothing like joining a conspiracy to plunge the galaxy into eternal war?"

  Idrian's mouth was suddenly very dry. He kept his head down before the Emperor to hide his face.

  "I don't understand what you mean, your Imperial Majesty."

  "The Cryptographers captured a traitor some months back. One Captain Denth. He made it hard to get information out of him. Devilishly hard. Yet the Cryptographers of the Imperium are very clever, and very, very persistent. They extracted a few names from him. Rax Daggoth. Idrian Sertu. Now why would a ship's captain have those names burned into his memory?"

  "I'm sure I don't know," Idrian whispered.

  "Look at me."

  Idrian lifted his eyes reluctantly to the Emperor.

  "Tell me why."

  Idrian's lower lip trembled. The Emperor, no longer looking weak and frail, stared at him with the gimlet gaze that had conquered the galaxy.

  "What was it?" the Emperor asked. "What did you lack? What was not enough for you? Your life entire, I made sure you never went without. What did you ever want that I did not provide?"

  Idrian's trembling stopped, and his teeth clenched.

  "My due."

  "Oh?"

  "All my life,", he snarled, "surrounded by the hate and contempt of your court. Did you think I didn't notice? Did you think I'd ignore all your insults, your slights and petty comments?" Idrian began to froth. "I deserve praise, not derision! I deserve to be worshipped! You and your stupid Imperium! I spit on you all! You're not even worth my hate! I don't even care about the conspiracy! I only care about destroying the Imperium!"

  The Emperor, standing tall and straight, gazed down at him sadly.

  "So you were part of the conspiracy." The Emperor shook his head. "Idrian, no one hated you. Any insults you heard were a product of your imagination, not any ill intent."

  The Emperor took a deep breath and sighed.

  "When I spared you as a child, many people warned me not to. They told me that no Chrysanthae could be trusted, that you would betray me and the Imperium." The Emperor drew a hand across his face. "I had hoped-- so deeply I'd hoped-- that they were wrong."

  A heavy gloom seemed to fill the room. Idrian shrank in on himself.

  "Don't send me to the executioners," he said quietly.

  The Emperor strode over to the fireplace.

  "Oh, Idrian. I would not." He picked a sheathed sword up off the mantle. He drew it with whiplike speed, filling the room with the ring of steel. "I would not make another man bear my duty."

  Idrian scrambled back. The Emperor took a second sword off the mantle and threw it at Idrian's feet.

  "Take up the sword," he said. "Face me. Set aside your whispers and poison. Use a weapon of steel."

  "I have something better than a sword," Idrian growled. "I have the truth. I know the facts about the so called 'Chrysanthae War.' The Chrysanthae never attacked the Imperium. Not once! You just hated us and wanted to kill us all!"

  The Emperor smiled thinly.

  "Well. You're not entirely wrong, but that doesn't make you right. The Chrysanthae never would attack directly. I wish that they had, even once. One honest, open battle. I would have welcomed open warfare."

  The Emperor lifted the straight, ornate sword and looked alone its narrow blade.

  "Instead, they worked through lies, backbiting, and deceit. False flags, assassination, and destabilization. No enemy outside the Imperium was ever so destructive as the Chrysanthae within it. That is why they had to be destroyed."

  The Emperor slashed the sword through the air, frowning.

  "So help me, at least one Chrysanthae will fight, even if it's the last one. Take up your weapon. I know you've been trained. I specifically requested it."

  Idrian glared at the Emperor.

  "You just couldn't stand that the Chrysanthae would have ruled the galaxy better than you ever could."

  "Idrian, the Chrysanthae couldn't even manage their own planet. They would not pause their machinations, their petty political struggles with each other, even to feed themselves. Their starvation rate was nearly 4% per year, even on their lush homeworld, even with Imperial technology. How could they possibly have managed the galaxy?"

  "Better than you," Idrian sneered.

  "Very well," said the Emperor. "Defeat me, and you will be exiled from the Imperium. You may seek your fortune in another galaxy. Perhaps you will rule that better than you've ruled yourself."

  "You, you are not worth fighting!" cried the courtier. "Not a worthy opponent! I won't do it!"

  "Draw or die."

  The Emperor lashed out with unexpected speed and grace. When he pulled back, Idrian was missing his left ear. He screamed.

  "Fight!" the Emperor bellowed. "Face your enemy! Defeat me and live! Give me one clean fight!"

  "I won't!"

  The Emperor lunged, and a line of red opened on Idrian's left arm.

  "If you're hoping for mercy," the Emperor said, "you won't find it. I hate nothing more than a traitor. Fight, or I'll cut you up into dog meat."

  The Emperor lunged again. Idrian spun adroitly, dodging the Emperor's shining steel. As fast as thought, he snatched up the sword from the floor and flung the sheath off, directly at the Emperor's face.

  The Emperor parried the flying sheath. Immediately behind the sheath attack was Idrian's blade, driving toward the Emperor's face.

  The Emperor twisted. The wicked steel carved a deep channel in his cheek. Blood flowed from the wound.

  "So the Emperor bleeds," Idrian said with a smile. "I always wondered."

  "Finally," the Emperor replied, "A Chrysanthae fights. First blood. Well played, but we're not done yet."

  Idrian swung a high, overhand blow. The Emperor raised his sword to block, but Idrian twisted his strike, spinning the blade backward suddenly. His blade swung low. The Emperor shifted his block, knocking the sword away.

  Almost without pausing, Idrian spun. He thrust the point of his weapon directly at the Emperor's chest.

  The Emperor swatted the strike away. He struck out at the courtier with a flat, level sweep. Idrian danced back, then brought his sword down toward the Emperor's neck.

  The Emperor caught Idrian's blade on his. Idrian's momentum carried him forward, pushed against the Emperor until they were face to face, blades locked together.

  To Idrian's horror, he saw the wound on the Emperor's face closing up before his eyes.

  "How am I supposed to kill you when you heal like that?" he wheezed.

  "Oh, you can't kill me," the Emperor said. "If you can land a blow that would kill a normal Terran, though, you'll earn your exile."

  Idrian reached into his coat. His hand came out with a matte black dagger. He drove it at the Emperor's midsection. The Emperor dropped his left elbow enough to catch the blade with his arm. He grunted as the blade pierced him, lodging between the bones of his upper arm. Blood welled up around the dagger.

  Idrian grinned.

  "You think I can't kill you? Let's see how you deal with a poisoned Qhall blade."

  The Emperor stared at Idrian levelly. Idrian pushed forward. He knew that Qhall poisons did their deadly work in seconds.

  The Emperor smiled thinly at Idrian. Idrian's brow knit in confusion.

  "I did warn you," the Emperor said. "You can't kill me. Now you've wasted a perfectly good Qhall blade."

  Idrian's expression morphed into one of horror.

  "What are you?"

  "I am the Imperium." The Emperor shoved Idrian away, following up with a slash at his legs. Idrian dodged. The Emperor pulled the dagger out of his arm. "I am the first citizen." He thrust at Idrian's gut. Idrian danced back. "I am the Emperor!" He swept forward, giving the courtier a grand rising cut. Panicked, Idrian slammed his blade down on it.

  The Emperor kicked out, catching Idrian in the chest. Idrian fell back a step, then lunged. The Emperor flicked his blade out. The tip knocked away Idrian's sword. The Emperor drove forward while the courtier was still off-balance. His sword slid smoothly into Idrian's chest, through his heart.

  Idrian cried out, dropping his blade. His hand wrapped around the steel buried in his breast. His chest hitched as he tried to draw breath. The light in his eyes slowly dimmed.

  "The last Chrysanthae finally fought," the Emperor said. "A better end than the rest of your species could manage."

  Idrian fell to the floor, sliding off the Emperor's blade. Blood pooled around his body.

  The Emperor stepped back, a sad look in his eyes.

  "A better end, but I would that you had chosen differently, Idrian."

  The Ministers still nattered and fussed in the Council Chamber.

  "What if he does choose Idrian?" someone said. "That man will be the death of us all!"

  "Quiet," Minister Aster said. "The Emperor will choose wisely. If he does not, then... we will choose wisely for him. "

  A somber air filled the chamber as one after another of the Ministers slowly nodded.

  The doors from the Emperor's private chambers slammed open, startling everyone.

  The Emperor strode back in, tall, proud and bold. No longer hunched and sickly, he held a blood-coated sword.

  "Idrian Sertu was a traitor to the Imperium, and now is dead," the Emperor said in a strong, loud voice. He leveled the sword at the assembled Ministers. Blood dripped onto the floor. "Does anyone else want to try to take a hand in succession?"

  The shocked Ministers unconsciously clustered closer together.

  "N-no, your Imperial Majesty," Minister Aster said.

  The Emperor whipped the sword down, flicking blood droplets on them. He spun on his heel and stalked out, slamming the door behind him.

  Outside, out of sight of the anyone else, the Emperor collapsed against the wall of the hallway. His sword clattered to the floor. He sank down slowly.

  He'd used far too much energy today. He didn't have much left.

  The Emperor needed the Change to come. Soon.