Act II - Part Three
“She thought you would come back for her.”
“And why would I do that?” Philippa wanted to spit out the now diluted synthehol in her glass, but she forced herself to swallow it anyway. “You want to head back?”
Michael shrugged. The constantly moving lights and the noise was becoming annoying, especially as the crowd seemed to get rowdier by the second. A loud yell could be heard coming from the audience in front of the stage.
What. The. Actual. Fuck.
The Orion woman has returned to the stage, she is sitting with her legs folded beneath her as she uses the dagger to cut off her own hair, letting the locks fall around her. The crowd cheered as she began cutting faster and faster, covering the stage with locks of jet-black hair. Philippa just looked to Michael and shook her head to herself, moving towards the exit before this insanity escalated.
But escape is not in the cards tonight. Just when Philippa was about to push past the door and step out of the cabaret-
“Fucking hell!”
Screams could be heard from the audience and, out of curiosity, just as the story of Lot’s wife looking back and turning into a pillar of salt – Philippa looked back, and so did Michael.
Somehow, between the time it took for them to make their way to the door, the show had gone from morbid oddity to a reenactment of a masochistic fantasy. The woman had straightened her spine and raised the dagger above her head, pausing to look at the audience, before bringing the blade down and pushing it into her abdomen.
The Klingons cheered and roared at the first sight of blood. The blood spilled out of the Orion’s hands and onto the stage, staining every surface it touched. Michael only shrugged at Philippa, though neither of them had an aversion to blood, if anything, Philippa had spent a decent amount of time in her adult life with her hands covered in her enemies’ blood. It was the blatant oddity of tonight’s events that was oddly unsettling.
Bang!
Michael turned to look before Philippa did, one exasperated sigh later. As expected, the woman’s body collapsed onto the stage, it would be rather impressive if she could stay kneeling with her back straightened up, but considering the amount of blood lost, that wouldn’t be possible. Perhaps Philippa should feel guilty, after all, they had only spoken moments ago.
But she doesn’t, why would she, when she knows that this woman would die regardless?
Gripping Michael by her elbow, Philippa dragged her out the cabaret. Watching that bloody spectacle is a waste of time, if it is blood lust she has, there are more productive ways to fulfill that.
Qo’noS looked much more desirable as a hologram, though as scarce as the planet is, it would still be a valuable addition to the Empire. It is, after all, the Klingon homeworld that is also inhabited by countless Orions and Andorians.
A planet of thunderstorms, volcanoes, and caves. There may not be many resources to gain, but there are many enemies to lose – and you can never have too few enemies. Michael gulped as she looked at the holographic map of the planet.
“This would wipe out the Klingons.”
“Oh, don’t be so dramatic.” Philippa rolled her eyes. “A decent number should be able to save themselves, even with Terran ships firing on them as they try to escape.”
Horrified, Michael closed the map. “Why are we targeting the Klingons though?”
“What else would you suggest?” Philippa sighed.
“Andorians?” Michael tried. “They’re an aggressive species with advanced technology.”
“We’ll get to them soon enough,” Philippa shook her head. “This isn’t about alien races, Michael.”
About a century ago, a starship from a parallel universe crossed over, though the crew had gone insane, there were records of the universe they came from. Archival records and logs of a universe where planets were united under a single federation. The Federation believed in equality, freedom, and cooperation; it is a wonder that their universe hasn’t collapse by the immense chaos that was never put under control, Terrans had given up on these ideals as they’ve learned that these ideas breed rebellion against the Empire. But in this universe, they would describe the Empire’s practices as xenophobic.
For such an advanced and civilized universe, that is an awfully binary way of looking at it. It was never about being xenophobic, it was never about discrimination – it was because it was within the Empire’s abilities, so they did it.
It is no different with Qo’noS; it is within the Empire’s ability to conquer and secure, it would be another conquest under the Empire and another title to honor the Emperor.
Philippa secured the briefcase and handed it to Michael.
“Just detonate the hydro bomb in the vents of the planet’s volcanic system,” Philippa said. “This will trigger a phreatic eruption and render the planet uninhabitable within weeks.”
Michael stared at the briefcase in her hands.
“Yes, Mother.”
“All hail her Imperial Majesty, Emperor Philippa Georgiou Augustus Iaponius Centarius, who led us in our conquest of Qo’noS – Emperor Georgiou will take on the title native to the Klingon subjects of her Empire as a symbol of her conquest. She is now Mother of the Fatherland, Overlord of Vulcan, and Dominus of Kronos. All hail the Emperor!”