Sacrifice

Chapter 2 - The Crown Prince

Bhirdan, Crown Prince of the Imkan Empire, sunk further into his chair and sincerely wished to disappear. From across his office, the Emperor glared at him.

"Did you think that I wouldn't watch the news?" the Emperor asked, "or that the ambassador wouldn't bring this to my attention."

"It was a momentary lapse," answered Bhirdan through gritted teeth.

"These 'momentary lapses' are increasing in their frequency and severity. You will curtail your media exposure."

The Emperor made a vague wave in the direction of the crystal screen which hung opposite the Crown Prince's desk and was covered in reports logging the Crown Prince's less fortunate escapades.

"I will have your promise that you'll keep your dalliances out of the news and that you'll restrict yourself to the lower class."

Bhirdan glared at the desk in front of him, trying to reign in his emotions.

"Now Bhirdan."

Bhirdan's gaze jerked up to his father's dark eyes. "Yes, father."

"I'm also aware," continued the Emperor, "even though it has yet to make it to the newsreels, that your Princely Project is turning into a complete circus. You're over budget and quickly running out of time."

Bhirdan stared into space, wishing to tune out his father's voice.

"In case you've forgotten, if the ships don't launch this season, it'll be another year before the launch window opens again. At which point, you'll be left with two options. Either come up with a large pile of money to continue financing your project or be left with some very large, very ugly paperweights sitting on the edge of the Great Southern Desert instead of colonizing our neighbouring planet. The former will mean digging into your personal finances, and the latter will leave you explaining to the taxpayers why you've wasted so much of their resources on a failed Princely Project."

Bhirdan glared at his lap. "Or I could borrow the money from the Cirts and not pay them back like you did," he mumbled and then jumped as the Emperor slammed his fist on the desk.

"Do not disrespect me, and you make damn sure you get these media reports under control."

With that, the Emperor stalked out, and Bhirdan bit the side of his cheek to regain control.

Finally, he punched the button on his com-pack that was supposed to connect him to the head engineer of his Princely Project. It chirped, returning the unable to connect signal. Bhirdan growled in frustration; Yousef was supposed to be on call every day, all day, for the length of the five-year project. Rising he stalked off to find Yousef.

# # #

Bhirdan slammed open the doors to the office next to his.

Yousef jumped in his chair.

"Why is your com-pack off? I've ordered you to have it on and be ready to talk to me at any moment."

Without waiting for an answer Bhirdan snatched the small crystal datapad that Yousef held.

"I'm not paying you a king's ransom to sit around and look at medical reports."

Yousef tried to reclaim the datapad, but Bhirdan tossed it aside and ignored it, as the state-of-the-art pad shattered on the stone floor.

"I want you to explain to me why the Princely Project, the project that is supposed to define my life and reign, is turning into a train wreck on your watch."

The Crown Prince began to pace as he ranted at the older man, and Yousef did what he was paid to do.

He sat there and took it.