Chapter Twenty-Nine

Hamaf reached under his desk.  He'd attached a few envelopes there so that they wouldn't be noticed in a search of his drawers if anything were to happen to him.  It was a little paranoid, but he'd known that Sharrai used to poke through his desk when he wasn't around and had assumed the practice towards anything important. 
Jor was leaning on the desk across from him.  He'd demanded answers, and he wasn't leaving until he got them. 
"I have here five envelopes.  Each of them contains a different message, for a different person."  He handed them to his second in command.  "The first one is yours, it contains my reccomendation that you be given command of the rangers, as well as a letter explaining everything that has happened since we boarded the ship.  What was it, seven months ago?"
"Only six sir.  Why would I need to command the rangers?"
"Because I won't be around to do it; as you will see."
"Sir, if you intend to kill yourself I will be forced to take you into protective custody."
He laughed.  Kill himself?  The very thought of it, after all he'd been through people probably wouldn't even question his motive in doing so. 

"No Jor, I shall die as I lived.  In service to my Empire, facing her enemies in combat.  The second letter is for my wife; it will see to it that she is safe and will never want for the rest of her life."
"What do you know that I don't sir?"
"Many things, most of which you can never know if you wish to grow old and content with young Pauline.  The third and fourth are to be delivered to my son, Hamren.  He will deliver the fourth.  You don't need to know anymore of what's within them, and if you open them you will die."
"Sir, I don't like this sort of talk."
"The fifth is to be delivered to Collin, if she still lives.  Of all of us, she is the best able to make a difference in the system, by working from within it as a noble.  Your last order is this; if she lives, keep her safe.  The Empire needs nobles from the people, ones like her who have fought, bled, and struggled amongst us and who know our pain and want to help us.  The Empire has only decayed as it has because the nobles have been allowed to run amuck.  The last two letters will help change that." 

Jor stared at him.  Hamaf had known that he was giving his last command.  He could very well have resigned now and it would make no difference in his life or any other.  The moment of his end was near. 
"Sir?  What are you planning to do?"
A voice called over the intercom that the chief researcher was dead.  The Captain rose and hung his sword from his belt.  Grath was dead, Jeanine was sticking to the plan then.  He had to hurry if he wanted to make a good show of it. 
"Good bye Jor, I'm going to go and have a chat with my daughter now.  When they ask you what happened, tell them I left in a rage swearing to do what I should have done ten years ago."
"Sir!  She'll kill you, Grath couldn't beat her and he's a mage."
"A fat pimple of a mage, she isn't.  The way I fiigure, that makes this a fair fight.  And if you try to stop me then it looks to the Imperial Guard like you were trying to help her. Stand aside, all will work out for the best.  I promise."
Jor stepped out of his way.  He was angry, he felt powerless, he was powerless but he knew that he couldn't beat Hamaf in a fight if it came to that.  He just stood aside as his Captain walked out of the office and down the hall that lead to the main gate.  As soon as he was out of sight he closed the door, and tuned the screen into the cameras that watched the main gate.  And he saw that three trucks of armed thugs, thieves, and ruffians were waiting there behind a single woman in a yellow jumpsuit.