Logbook entry

Emerald Repatriation Society: News (Part 28)

06 Mar 2024Vasil Vasilescu
(<--Part27)
My nephew, Michael, arrived at the Emerald Dawn with all of the fanfare one might expect for a full carrier wing rather than two flights of medium AX fighters. Imperial extravagance transformed the Emerald Dawn into a pinnacle of luxury with three days of planned festivities to celebrate the arrival of the AX fighters in conjunction with the defeat of Taranis.

The press, maybe a hundred or so reporters and news crews arrived a day prior to the AX fighters. Jack Vaughn was among them. To keep him on friendly terms, and to acknowledge his help finding Elena, I granted him one of only five press passes that would allow him limited access to the command deck and priority consideration for scheduling interviews.

The majority of the first day was taken up with flight demonstrations and ceremonies and press conferences in front of AX kraits liveried in anodized green and interviews with the pilots who looked and acted like they came straight from central casting for daredevil pilots eager to kick Thargoid ass. Two of the AX pilots had participated in the coordinated attacks on Taranis, though you’d not be able to tell by how perfect their ships looked. Imperial extravagance also meant Imperial perfection, so the ships had been made to look pristine before their arrival.

In the week since Octavia had removed our brother, Stefan, from the ERS board of directors, her son, Michael, had more than established himself as Stefan's replacement as head of ERS Public Relations. Gifted with an uncanny understanding of public perception, Michael had planned the pageantry with which the AX flights were welcomed aboard the Emerald Dawn to take advantage of the morale boost from defeating Taranis, and to keep ERS in the public eye.

“There are still seven more titans, meaning there are still many more Imperial citizens that need help,” Michael said at a press conference, accompanied by a half dozen rescued citizens. “On behalf of my mother, I promise that ERS will be there for them.”

While Taranis being reduced to ash was a recent development, planning the celebrations for welcoming the AX Fighters had to have taken more than the week. Michael was officially put in charge of providing the fighters only a week ago and I doubt he could have finished the task and planned the celebrations in that short of a time. Knowing Octavia, I suspected she had been planning to replace Stefan for some time and already had Michael working on an AX escort solution for the Emerald Dawn.

The revelation that Stefan had been the one to leak information about ERS funding a war in Hixkaramu was the excuse Octavia needed to replace Stefan. Octavia tolerated Stefan’s indiscretions in order to use his media and entertainment connections to keep ERS in the public awareness. However, with the way Michael had managed to arrange the circus-like coverage just for two flights of AX fighters assigned as carrier escort, Stefan’s connections would not be missed.

During the evening cocktail party in the officer’s lounge, Michael came up to me as I was talking with one of AX pilots. Michael apologized for interrupting and said that he needed to speak to me concerning ERS business. I excused myself and motioned Michael to one of the private rooms attached to the lounge.

The door hissed closed behind us and I turned to Michael. He wore a seriousness on his lean face that I’d not seen throughout the day. It reminded me of Octavia. “Mother felt you should hear this directly from family rather than from something as impersonal as a message. Uncle Stefan is dead.”

It took me a few seconds to comprehend what I’d just heard. “What? How?”

“A housekeeper found him dead in the Rochester Hotel’s penthouse suite on Mackenzie Station. Motrona and honesty pills were found as well. He choked on his own vomit.”

“When did it happen?”

“Three days ago. So far, Mother has been able to keep it out of the news. Neither she nor the Rochester want the circumstances of his death getting out.”

“I don’t understand. Why would the hotel be embarrassed?” A death is not the best publicity, but it is not the worst, especially if the death was not the hotel's fault.

“Apparently Stefan had some... companionship that evening. Station security thinks he may have started overdosing and whoever was with him got scared and left. The fact they left using Stefan’s VIP pass and that hotel security did not stop them is not something the Rochester thinks will inspire confidence in their other VIPs.”

“I see.” The initial shock of the news starting to pass, the practical side of me began to consider the consequences of Stefan’s sudden death. “I suppose there will be who-knows-how-many illegitimate kids and former lovers of his wanting to get a piece of his estate once the news gets out.”

“That is why Mother has delayed making his death public. He apparently did not have an executor. She is talking with lawyers in order to either appoint one that would have the family’s interest in mind, or to have herself appointed as executor. Either way, it will be another day or two before his death is formally announced.” Michael tugged at the sleeves of his suit to even out the cuffs. “Anyway,” he said with a borderline bored sigh, “Mother wanted me to tell you, so I have. I am going to get back to the party for a bit then go to my stateroom. Busy day tomorrow with interviews and meetings with rescued citizens.”

I nodded and Michael left me alone in the room.

Years of being a libertine hedonist had finally caught up with Stefan. Though we may not have been close, and he was sometimes an embarrassment to the family, Stefan did not deserve to die drowning in his own vomit. More than grief over my brother’s death, I felt anger at the fact that someone left him to die like that.

I was not even bothered by the emotionless way Michael delivered the news. Like me, Michael was not close to Stefan and any display of emotion on his part would have been disingenuous. One small detail did bother me, though, and that was the drugs.

I could understand the motrona jelly. It was a popular recreational drug with people like Stefan who were always looking for some new experience. What better way to have it than with a drug that could be synthesized to give you whatever custom experience and feeling you paid for.

What I did not understand was the honesty pills. Why would Stefan have a psychoactive drug used to force the confession of secret sins from apostate cult members? Was he chasing some form of sacred sexual experience by mixing motrona, honesty, and high-priced escorts? A sinner, begging absolution and divine punishment from a Mistress nun? Or was it just an experiment gone awry, an intended good time carried beyond the extreme?

A knock on the inside of the open door pulled me out of my thoughts. I looked toward the door.

“Sorry to interrupt,” said Jack Vaughn, leaning partway through the open door. “I saw you were alone and just wanted to say thanks for the command press pass.” Vaughn patted the green and gold pass attached to the lapel of his suit. “This baby has already got me a one-on-one interview with Captain Whitney and two of the AX pilots. Oh, and by the way, the food here is much better than down at the press reception.”

Vaughn had helped me find Elena, maybe he could help find answers to my questions about what happened to Stefan. As much as I wanted to believe it was an unfortunate consequence of Stefan's lifestyle, something about his death did not seem quite right to me. “Come in,” I said to Vaughn. “Close the door and have a seat. I want to talk to you about something, but I need your promise not to report anything on it for at least three days.”

Sensing a story, Vaughn entered and closed the door. “What is it?”

“It’s about my brother, Stefan...”
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