Free Bones of Empire by William C. Dietz

death of Governor Uma Nalomy, Senator Tegor Nalomy’s only child. A beautiful if headstrong young woman who was not only the person the elder Nalomy loved most other than himself, but was being groomed to become Empress eventually, when she had been set upon by a mob of angry citizens who had literally torn her apart.
    The thought of that, and the memory of the small casket that contained little more than his daughter’s severed head, was enough to start the tears flowing down Senator Nalomy’s carefully biosculpted cheeks as he stood on the porch that circled the main house and looked out over the well-cultivated land. Property that would now go to a less-than-promising nephew in the wake of his death.
    The reality of that served to rekindle the anger Nalomy felt toward Legate Isulu Usurlus for bringing his daughter down. A man who, by all rights, should have been killed in the carefully choreographed Port City ambush but had miraculously survived thanks largely to the efforts of a Xeno cop named Cato. The fact that the two men were still alive was nothing less than maddening.
    But not for long, Nalomy promised himself, as a Tas bird rode a distant thermal higher into the sky. Because he was a patient man, and would never give up his quest for revenge, not so long as there was a breath in his body.
    Nalomy’s morose thoughts were interrupted as a tone sounded in his ear. He never took calls directly, preferring to have them screened first, so he knew the call was important. A single voice command was sufficient to open the circuit. “Yes? This is Senator Nalomy.”
    â€œOf course it is,” the man on the other end of the call replied confidently. “This is Emor. . . . I’d like to get your opinion on something.”
    Nalomy was not only startled, but amazed, since Emperor Emor and he had never been on especially good terms. A schism that had widened during the months since his daughter’s death. Yet here, on a com call, was Emor, seeking some sort of guidance. Perhaps the senatorial wags were correct. . . . Maybe the old fart was losing his mind. If so, Nalomy hoped to profit.
    â€œEmperor Emor!” Nalomy said enthusiastically. “This is both a pleasure and an honor. I would be happy to help in any way that I can. What’s the subject?”
    â€œThe Vords,” Emor answered succinctly. “As you know, they took control of Therat, a planet that isn’t especially important in and of itself but is part of the Empire. Simply put, the bastards are willing to discuss the matter, and as you may have heard, I’m willing to hear them out. The question is whether we should take a hard line, and threaten war, or sacrifice Therat to buy more time. As you are the leader of the Core World Combine, I would be interested in your opinion.”
    The Core World Combine was a group of Senators who generally favored a strong central government, wanted special rights for the founding worlds, and generally opposed equal representation for the rim worlds since that would dilute the Senators’ considerable power. So if Emor was checking to see how much support there would be for letting the aliens have Therat, it was a good indication of the Combine’s steadily growing influence and a sign that the Emperor was crafty rather than crazy.
    â€œIt would be an honor to provide an opinion,” Nalomy said smoothly. “Generally speaking, my associates and I oppose spending the Empire’s money to defend planets that continually whine about the tax burden imposed on them while demanding equal representation. So, much as I sympathize with the people of Therat, I believe that most members of the Combine would understand the need to sacrifice the planet as part of a strategic plan directed at strengthening the Empire’s defenses. Because I assume that once our Navy is in position, it will send the Vords packing.”
    â€œYes, of course,” Emor replied vaguely,