March of the Habsborg
Chapter 4 - Evil Restrained
Venice
June 15, 1541
The light inside the Doge's conference room was dimmer than a California governor. Only the flicker of a candelabra on the table in the center of the room kept the occupants from being completely blind. "So the Tuscan war is over?" asked Doge Pietro Lando of his top general and military advisor, Leonardo Foscolo.
"Yes, sir. The Enemy has forced Tuscany to cede Romagna."
"The Borg demon grows ever more powerful, and Christendom remains silent," lamented the Doge, shaking his head slowly.
"To be fair, sir ... most of the crowns of Europe still do not believe that the Habsburgs are possessed, and they are unwilling to oppose them when, after all, they were only punishing Tuscany's aggression against Romagna."
Lando slammed the table with his fist. "If only the Vatican had sense enough to keep control of its lands, this matter might have been prevented. The enemy now controls almost the entire coast of the Gulf of Venice - if it comes to war again, our navy will be trapped. What news of the Turk?"
"They have been preoccupied in Hungary ever since our agreement to cede Corfu and Dalmatia, but of course any treaty signed with the Sultan is worth little more than the paper it is inscribed upon."
Lando grunted. "It would seem we are surrounded by enemies whom we have no hope of defeating. Surely things cannot get any worse than they are now."
As if on cue, a messenger entered the room. True to his station, he silently crossed the room, handing his charge to Foscolo, after which he beat a hasty retreat. Foscolo opened the note and held it over the candelabra, using the heat to expose the invisible message contained within. His general's sigh and sagged shoulders upon reading the message told the Doge all he needed to know about its contents. Curiously, that didn't stop him from seizing it from Foscolo's hands.
"So," began the Doge after reading the paper. "The Turk has been halted, but Zapolya is dead, and now all of Hungary is a Habsburg possession. I would have preferred the Turk to take Hungary rather than the Borg-infested Habsburgs. I'm open to suggestions on how to proceed, Leonardo."
"We need allies, Doge. If we can surround the Enemy and force them to fight in multiple theaters, we may yet defeat them, or at least reverse their advance."
"Agreed, but what allies have we? You said yourself that nobody believes us."
"That's not exactly true, sir. The Duke of Savoy is firmly in our camp, and they've convinced the Scots of the Borg threat ..."
"Heh," Lando interrupted. "The Scots really will believe anything."
Kassel
March 15, 1543
Duke Philipp I of Hessen shifted uneasily in his chair. "You are certain this man comes on the authority of the Emperor?" he asked of his guard.
"No, but that is who he claims to be, nonetheless. He
did arrive in a carriage with the Emperor's arms on it."
Philipp furrowed his brow. "Curious. Very well, show him in, and direct him to the balcony. Then, leave us."
"Sir?"
"Do as I ask. I would know right now whether these rumors of the Emperor's 'possession' are true, and as long as this messenger is outnumbered, I don't believe he will reveal his true intentions."
"Yes, sir," replied the guard, and with a dutiful click of his heels went out to fetch the mysterious Habsburg ambassador.
Philipp rose, crossed over to the locked chest in the corner of the room and opened it with the key hanging from his neck. From the chest he pulled a small bodkin and a length of rope. Using the rope, he tied the bodkin to the underside of his left forearm. The long sleeves of his cloak hid the blade, but by hyperextending his wrist, he could expose its tip.
Weapon in hand (or sleeve, as the case may be), Philipp walked out to the balcony to wait for the Habsburg messenger. In a few moments, the man arrived, dressed entirely in the black armor that had become the odd new fashion in Austria. The Duke wasted no time.
"My men tell me that you claim to be here on the authority of the Emperor."
The messenger's response spoke volumes to Philipp. "We are the Habsborg. You will be assimilated. Resistance is fu-"
The drone's reply was cut short as Philipp plunged his dagger into its chest. Continuing to push on the blade's hilt, he drove the drone over the edge of the balcony, after which its internal organs were messily introduced to the stone path leading up to the castle.
Perhaps, thought Philipp,
it is time to take the Doge of Venice a bit more seriously ...
Venice
February 1, 1545
Another explosion in the city sent shockwaves through the Palace of the Doge as Foscolo made his way to the war room. The general wondered how much more punishment the building could take. Doge Lando greeted him as he entered the chamber. "What news, Leonardo?"
"Mixed blessings, I'm afraid. First off, our navy has the Enemy completely outclassed, and they are nicely blockaded in Trieste."
"That's good," interrupted the Doge.
"But as you know," said Foscolo as another explosion rocked the city, "their army has routed ours in Genoa and laid siege to Venice."
"That's bad," Lando said with a scowl.
"On the other hand, the Savoyards and Hessians have had moderate success on the battlefield, and have repulsed several Habsburg attacks."
"That's good," chimed the Doge.
Hiding his annoyance, Foscolo continued his briefing. "Alas, the Scots lost their entire navy and a sizable army in a doomed invasion of the Low Countries, and the Emperor has concluded his wars with the Electorates of Baden and Würzburg, forcing both of them to become tributary vassals. We can only assume that their leadership has been possessed by Borg, thus making it impossible for us to accomplish the principle goal of this war."
"That's bad."
Foscolo let out an angry sigh. "
Finally, the Austrians have requested that both sides cease hostilities and return to the status quo. They appear to recognize that we have forced a stalemate."
Lando furrowed his brow, unable to comprehend if that last statement was good or bad. Foscolo settled the issue.
"That's good, Doge. While we have not saved Baden and Würzburg, we
have shown that this 'Borg' can be fought. If we take some time to rebuild our forces and rally more nations to our side, we may yet defeat this threat."
"That's -", began the Doge, but his final annoying interjection was cut short by a cannonball that picked that particular moment to smash into the Palace and take out the principle load-bearing member of the section housing the war room, thus causing its ceiling to collapse upon poor Pietro. Let it not be said that cybernetic lifeforms do not have a sense of empathy.
Will the Venetians be able to rally humanity in time to defeat the Borg?
Read March of the Habsborg, Chapter 5 - The Crawling Blackness to find out!