Captain Vorpatril's alliance

Followed by a pair of Residence guards, to pick off stragglers presumably, the majordomo led around and, unusually, down. Ivan had not often seen this subterranean section of the Residence, devoted to a pocket of practical conference rooms, as it was never open during the assorted public ceremonies or festivities, such as the annual Imperial Winterfair Ball coming up soon. The chamber into which they were gated felt more like a small, if unusually well‑appointed, university lecture hall than a courtroom. At the front was a lectern and a comconsole table, and more seats were arrayed in a semi‑circle of gently ascending rows. It might have held forty people in a crush. Which this was apparently not to be, despite the milling other‑Arquas‑plus‑Byerly who had arrived just before them. A table at the side was set up with, mercifully, coffee, teas, and an assortment of pastries; Ivan wasn’t sure if it represented hospitality or a sign that this was going to be a very long session.

Ivan made certain Tej had coffee with cream‑she declined the pastries with a wan smile, not a good sign‑and edged over to By. “Did you get a personal invitation, or are you here as an ImpSec plainclothes guard?” he muttered.

“Both,” By muttered back. “Courtesy of Gregor and Allegre. Though I’ve had my own debriefings with ImpSec.”

“Plural? They had time?”

“Oh, I’m special this week.” By grimaced. “And not in a good way. I told them I needed backup‑never mind.”

And then it was time for everyone to hastily put down their drinks and swallow their last bites as the majordomo announced simply, “Your attention, for Emperor Gregor Vorbarra.”

Ivan, after much dithering, had chosen a good suit instead of his military dress greens for this; Gregor, curiously, had made a similar choice, severe in dark blue. He was trailed by his senior armsman and his chief secretary, who went to set things up at the lectern. Gregor accepted assorted uncertain head‑ducks with a wave of his hand that seemed to say, Yes, but not yet; the armsman hurried to supply him with coffee and, Ivan saw with a twinge of guilt, a couple of painkiller tablets, which he swigged down before turning to take command of the front of the room. The rest were directed to seats: the seniors in the front row, along with Pidge, Tej, and Ivan at the end where he could see everyone without craning his neck, much; and Byerly and the remainder‑Rish, Star, Pearl, Emerald, Amiri and Jet‑in the next. The armsman took up a parade rest at the side of the room where he could keep an eye on everyone; the secretary seated himself at the comconsole table, preparing to record everything.

Gregor set down his coffee on the lectern and turned to stare unamiably out over his captive audience.

“There are a number of interlocking jurisdictions and issues, legal and practical, involved in last weekend’s events in my twice‑capital. First are the questions of crimes, misdemeanors, and the creation of public hazards in the city of Vorbarr Sultana and the Vorbarra District. For this, the highest legal venue is the Vorbarra District Count’s Court, of which I am, as Count Vorbarra, senior judge and final arbiter. Next, what might be construed as an attack on a critical Imperial military installation, for which, as Commander‑in‑Chief of the Barrayaran Military Service, I am again the ultimate authority. And finally, there are matters involving the welfare of the Imperium as a whole, for which, as Emperor, I am‑again‑finally responsible.

“It is my intention to stack up all of these jurisdictions”‑he didn’t say, in one big heap, but Ivan fancied he could hear it‑“and get through the major issues this morning all at once. In short, I offer you a Star Chamber. You have a choice whether to accept this offer and my authority, and abide by the outcome, or not. You may have a moment to consult among yourselves before you reply.”

Pidge rose and darted to the senior Arquas; Gregor went aside for more coffee and a bite of pastry. Ivan could only think, Yes, for the love of mercy get your blood sugar up, sire. He joined the huddle. Simon and Mamere, he noted, stayed seated.

Pidge was saying, “If we want to hold off retribution for as long as possible with delaying actions, now is our chance. You know I had the sequence of court fights all mapped out‑”

“If I may advise?” said Ivan, pitching his voice low. Shiv put out a hand to quell Pidge, who scowled at the interruption.

“Please do,” said the Baronne.

“About ten thousand people are lined up behind you competing for a slice of Gregor’s time, but he’s offering you this morning on a platter. He won’t make that offer twice. Also, his clothes.”

“What about them?” asked Shiv, his heavy face dark in bafflement.