Short Story: "Address to the Dying"

The Undead. There was no single enemy as uniformly hated amongst the Nielda. Even at the height of the first Empire, in the midst of the constant Ga-Vok wars the Nielda would set aside all prejudice to destroy even the slightest outbreak amongst humanity.

For Emperor Kvald III, this only made the current dilemma all the more ironic.
"Your highness, Lady Anath of Gasca has reported that they too have been hit."
"What of the Anatolians, any word from the stations or the surface?"
"Neither sir, it seems they got lucky for once. I'd guess the cultists didn't even realize there was anyone left on that light forsaken world."

"Has Admiral Casat responded yet?"
"Yes sir, the whole fleet was active on the border, no reported cases as of last contact."
"How many other fleets are in equivalent condition?"
"Four in total your highness; the Ninety-Sixth, Fortieth, the thirteenth..."

Staff Secretary Roven continued to list the military assets that had not been affected by the attack. Kvald knew that it didn't matter, one fleet would be enough to launch the counter attack. The real question was the one only he could answer.

"Roven, arrange a press conference in an hour. I need to address my people."
"Do you need time to prepare?"
"No, I think I know what needs to be said."
"Oh good, because we've already set everything up for you."
"Thank you, have my family meet me there."
"Those of them who can still walk are already there."

He entered the broadcast room. It had been designed to look like the throne room, only much more grand and with slightly less polished metal to prevent camera glare. His wife, the Empress Chasia, and three of his sons as well as his Daughter Holine, who had been on leave for Junsrew, were waiting in their appointed positions around the throne.

He sat down in the throne, took a deep breath, and pressed the override button; which caused every computer, radio, and holoprojector in the empire to turn on and begin broadcasting a direct, live feed of his message.
"Citizens of the Empire," He paused to hear his voice echoing as he heard himself from monitors around the room. "Yesterday, our great Empire was attacked by a small, dedicated organisation. This so-called Cult of Endless Death brought bombers out of the plane of travel into low orbit, allowing them to bypass many of our defenses. In under an hour every major city, military installation, and 98% of all the minor population centers had been bombed. But these were not mere bombs; they contained an artificially manufactured variant of the Undeath plague manufactured by the Lich Xanadu during the Frostbourne war."
He paused for affect. This was the first piece of information he'd stated that much of the populace would not have already known.
"Our scientists have worked through the night researching this new plague. And to fall into the cliche, I have good news and I have bad news."
He held up the researchers findings; for computer screens these would be zoomed in, to prove that they were actually what he said they were.
"The good news is that we will not be the rotten mindless wretches that have been seen in ages past; this is not a zombie apocalypse. The bad news is, there is no cure. This plague will leave our nation as nothing but an undead shell of our former self."

He had to stop here. This time the gasp came from within the room itself, not just the hypothetical gasps of a distant audience. The broadcast team were guards; they didn't even break a sweat over this sort of thing. Chasia was not nearly as stalwart.
"But Kvald, We're Nielda. This can't happen to us; our blood; what about our doctors? Surely there's something we can do?"
"I'm afraid not my dear. The plague is custom tailored to Nielda; and it works fast. It's extremly effective I'm sorry to say. We have reports of Ga-Vok pilgrims on Decidua dying within hours of exposure."
"But can't we use some sort of medicine, or magic even?"
He shook his head. He could see the panic in his wife's eyes, but much as it pained him he had to continue.

"Citizens, no, Brother Nielda. We must act at once. Soon it will be to late; Admiral Casat with the Forty-Ninth fleet will be leading the border guard, who are as of yet unaffected by the plague, in retaliation against the perpetrators of this crime. For those of you who go with him, I expect your best; the prayers and fury of the whole Empire are with you. For those of us who remain, the question is; How shall we go on now that death is our unwavering fate?"