Act II - Part One
2249
The light beaming from the chandeliers, bouncing off the diamond-shaped gold panels hanging from the ceiling, and reflecting from the large rectangular table with a black glass top that has been polished to shine like a mirror, has never been so frustrating. These councils had never been so exasperating, and that speaks volumes as there has only been a handful of bearable meetings where the advisors advise rather than spew bullshit on irrelevant matters. Philippa tightened her grip on the amber stained glass goblet in front of her, though it was only filled with synthehol, which does less than nothing to ease her headache.
“That’s what you have to say about this?”
“Under the guidance of Captain Gabriel Lorca, the I.S.S. Buran traveled to the far ends of the Beta Quadrant to seek out ways to better serve the Empire – and he succeeded.”
“Warping between quadrants for exploration is hardly a success, need I remind you that we are dealing with a dilithium shortage right now?”
“Which is why we must secure more.”
“I wholeheartedly agree, so why is Captain Lorca warping across the universe when we are already at a dilithium shortage?”
“What are you insinuating at, Leland?”
“You know just as well as I do that there have been inconsistencies between Commander Ellen Landry’s and Captain Gabriel Lorca’s logs, Cornwell.”
Except it’s not so much about giving unsolicited opinions as much as two particular individuals refusing to simply address the matter at hand. What’s infuriating is the fact that Philippa is all too familiar with Lorca's whereabouts, but she must sit here to witness these two present the issue to the rest of the council members. After all, it was one Katrina Cornwell who suggested it would be a good idea for Lorca to captain the Buran .
Raising the glass goblet to her lips, narrowing her eyes at Cornwell, as she took a drink of the synthesized bloodwine.
“There were,” Cornwell straightened her back and looked straight at Philippa, raising an eyebrow at Philippa. “But there were also inconsistencies with Michael Burnham’s logs.”
“Perhaps,” Philippa leaned back and crossed her arms. “We all know children make poor decisions – though I’m not sure that’s exclusive to children.”
“Emperor.”
“But you were telling us that we have the captain of an imperial starship trekking across the quadrants for exploration?” Philippa turned to Cornwell. “In the middle of a dilithium shortage? ”
“If I may speak, Emperor,” Cornwell sighed. “I say this as your advisor, but I would be more wary of your heir than of an esteemed captain of the Imperial Starfleet.”
“And I say this as a fellow advisor,” Leland looked directly at Cornwell. “To question the Emperor’s heir is an act of treason – a crime punishable by death.”
Death, or a prolonged stay in one of the agonizer booths. The latter would be preferable to set an example for the masses, that stupid child always get herself tangled in these political webs, but that’s nothing that cannot be fixed.
“Guards!” Philippa stood up. “Take Katrina Cornwell into one of our agonizers – and do help her enjoy the entirety of the updated features.”
“What-” Cornwell looked at the two guards behind her. “No!”
“ ’Esteemed captain?’ Is that what he is now?” Philippa chuckled.
The rest of the council members just watched as the two tall and muscular guards pulled Cornwell up by her elbows. Philippa took another sip of her synthesized bloodwine as Cornwell’s feet dragged across the obsidian marble floors next to her.
“Up until recently, he was only an esteemed imperial babysitter.”
“Captain Michael Burnham.”
Philippa let the words roll off her tongue as her fingers quickly worked to fasten the gold belt around Michael’s waist. Wrapping her arms around her, holding Michael close to her, Philippa looked at themselves in the mirror.
With her brown skin and large almond-shaped eyes alone, she looked nothing like Philippa. Though they’re of a similar height, where Michael has curves around her hips and thighs, Philippa has sharp edges all around the curves of her body that has only become more pronounced as time goes on.
“At your service, Emperor. ” Her voice dripping with sarcasm.
That drawl, that look in her eyes, it is as if she’s looking into a splitting image of herself. The same ambition, the same desire that could never be fulfilled. The same defiance that she had when she was her age, the same discontent.
“It’s Emperor now?” Philippa raised an eyebrow. “Not so long ago, it was Mother. ”
“Forgive me, Mother. ” Michael met her gaze in the mirror. “I forgot the nature of our relationship.”
“Just like you did with Lorca?”
“I didn’t do anything with Lorca.” Michael stiffened.
“Is that why you were on the Buran ?” Philippa narrowed her eyes. “You can’t hide from me, dear daughter.”
“I was simply curious.”
It is almost insulting that her heir could possibly think that she could deceive her with such obvious lies. As if she didn’t know that Lorca had been warping from planet to planet in hopes of recruiting allies, that he had grown discontented with being one of the Emperor’s advisors and babysitting Michael when she was still a child. As if she’s unaware that Lorca has been telling Michael his fantastical tales of fate and destiny, which, to her dismay, her heir has been rather enchanted by.
“You see it as grooming,” Michael frowned. “But how is that any different from you?”
“You are my heir,” Philippa mused. “Why would I be okay with him touching what is mine?”
It saddens Philippa to know that Michael’s ambition would eventually lead her to her end. She is just as ambitious as Philippa, with the same lust for power, but she had failed to teach her patience and restraint, and for that, they’ll both pay. Michael may be eager to exercise whatever power she believes she has in her hands, but the girl could not even sneak out to meet her lover in the middle of the night without Philippa knowing.
But rulers are not born, they’re made.
And children, as frustrating as they are, always learn by example.