That was probably because, all things considered, it was cheaper to keep them happy than oppressed, and despite the overwhelming urge to toss them into a biorecycler, she’d instead opted for treating them more like forced guests. If they were here for the long haul, might as well.

  The result was that their standards of living were probably better than they had been before their imprisonment, by quite a significant margin; their erstwhile comrades pinned to the walls after attempting some rather violent breakouts notwithstanding.

  In any case, the command center worked for strategic overviews, but when things went to a more tactical level, it started breaking down.

  So Ghost and Subtlety had made an operations center. Which wasn’t really a single room, but an assembly thereof, with a central hub for a global overview, an operations room for planning, and various other subsections for more specialized commands.

  That way, they could separate high- and low-level functions. Kind of like the regular bridge and the flag bridge on the Dawnstar. Or the bridge and the Combat Information Center on regular warships.

  There was no real need to man that center either, but a few golems were on hand regardless. They were praetorian guard officer types, with a lot of processing power to spare, and since their networking abilities were causing the entire damned golem army to start to evolve, she might as well give them a boost and get them some broader experience, just like you would a junior officer who didn’t know yet which end of the railguns pointed forward.

  Just so long as she didn’t hand them compasses and maps, they should be fine.

  “You did a great job,” she said finally, as she turned towards Ghost and Subtlety. “Color me impressed.”

  “Thanks. But it’s not complete.” Ghost shrugged. “With Frankie and the triplets headed towards the Republic and handling all of that mess, we didn’t really get the reinforcements we expected in terms of brain power. In fact, it’s getting worse, since Subtlety is more and more having to handle the Kingdom. We need more AIs.”

  Alexandra nodded.

  “Sure. You’d advocated one to handle ground ops, right? We can start with that, then start working on a few for civil administration, and maybe a diplomat.”

  “A diplomat?”

  “We’re going to have to do a lot of talking as part of the Empire and even just to the other dungeons. And honestly, dumping it all on Emilia isn’t fair.”

  “Not gonna argue with that. Given the need, do you mind if I inload some info packets to kickstart personality development? They take a while to get going otherwise.”

  “Sure.” She was of the school of thought that it was better to nurture an AI and let them grow naturally from their environment and interactions, but she knew many back on Earth were advocating for giving a little nudge, via inloading a bunch of data into them at the start. Many argued it was like the imprints many children would already have through the sounds and other experiences they’d have had in the womb. “We can try on a couple.”

  “Good.” Alexandra frowned slightly as Ghost moved on. She suddenly had the inescapable feeling of having made a terrible, terrible mistake. The kind where her other self was setting her up. “Your new drones passed their preliminary trials, by the way. We can’t go much further without, well, letting them fly for real, I’m afraid. Are you ready for this?”

  Alexandra grimaced.

  Launching the drones should be fine. After all, they’d launched the stealthed but much more conspicuous “shuttles” she’d kludged together for the raid on the supply ship with no issues. But it was nonetheless something that would have to be done carefully, especially given how many eyes were on her now.

  Thankfully, the mesa fortress was huge, filled with weird mechanisms, and replete with random drills and odd energy spikes. Hiding the launch of a compact high-tech drone made to be invisible should be a walk in the park.

  Emphasis on “should be.”

  “Not really, but when am I ever?”

  “Eh. Good point. Meeting with Allya go alright?”

  “...I kind of broke down a bit.”

  Ghost’s face softened.

  “Yeah. I could feel it. What happened?”

  “I...don’t think I should tell you. Not just yet.”

  “Alright. Well, let’s get to it.” Ghost clapped her hands. “Prepare launch procedures! Let’s get some birds in the air!”

  Allya had seen some terrifying sights in her life. Even more so after she’d started this mad ride with Alexandra.

  But Hegemony Square was definitely up there.

  It was packed with people. A crowd so immense that even she, someone who was used to counting large numbers of people at a glance, couldn’t guess how many were there.

  She was “there” as a courtesy, relayed through a hologram whose projectors the Hegemony had found Gods knew where.

  The Hegemon stepped forward. Aria Esteris was, by all accounts, a dangerous woman. Not just because of her own prowess, but also her ability to rely on her people.

  It took a special kind of strength to have to be literally supported by two officers to move upright, and not only look undiminished but even made greater by the assistance.

  “My people,” Aria said, her voice amplified by thousands of speakers not only throughout the square, but the entire Hegemony. “I come to you today with important news. With important, joyous news.” She coughed, and Allya had to stop a wince. Resurrection sickness would have been merciful compared to the amount of punishment that woman had endured. Even arcane healing had its limits when someone put this much effort into killing you. “Because today...today is the end of a long night. For the first time in a thousand years, our continent is a fractured, war-torn land no longer. For the first time in a millennium, we will stand united. As one.”

  The Hegemon gestured, and Allya stepped forward.

  “Empress Allya Nouvelle-Aurore has promised us a new dawn. And I believe her. I believe her because I have seen her actions, and not just her words. Through her deeds, Sunrise has fallen. Through her labors, slavery, the great blight on our continent, is finally over. And thanks to her help, the nation that once saved us from annihilation, the Elkis Republic, is born anew.”

  The Hegemon moved to face her, and the two officers flanking her helped her kneel before Allya. The Empress—who had trouble thinking of herself as such still—had to hold back another wince. She’d tried to convince the Hegemon not to do it beforehand, but she’d insisted.

  “Your Imperial Majesty. In the name of the Hegemony, its strategic council, and its people, I offer you our fealty. Now and forevermore, we will fight by your orders, and die by your orders.”

  Well that’s fucking grim.

  She raised her hand and carefully put it on the Hegemon’s shoulder, in such a way that the hologram didn’t start to glitch but still “touched” her.

  “And I accept it. Rise, Hegemon Aria Esteris. Rise...and welcome to the Aurorean Empire.”

  Allya leaned against the wall, sighing, the hologram glitching as it met the solid surface.

  As expected, this formal announcement had kicked off a massive frenzy.

  It was also...poetic, in its own way. Technically, it was the first official ceremony of any nation joining the Empire. Though they were the last to join, so far at least.

  The Kingdom and the Republic didn’t mind, though. In fact, they seemed to be preparing something. Trira’s people had found the aides of the royal magistrate and Malcom talking.

  “I hope this is worth it.”

  The Empress opened her eyes and gazed at the pink-haired woman in front of her.

  Saratoga. High commander of the Hegemony’s military. Extremely aggressive, she’d almost started the invasion after the Hegemon’s nigh-successful assassination. Which was no doubt the intended effect, if the Order was indeed behind it. Also, technically it wasn’t hair, but a naturally growing pink crystal lattice.

  Incidentally, she was also the Hegemon’s girlfriend.

  Why do I always end up meeting psychotic military lesbians with strange hair?

  “What is?”

  “This peace. This Empire.” Saratoga looked at the empty hallway, then back to Allya. “Look, I don’t know who the hell you are. Seriously. You came out of nowhere and swept the damned board. You’ve been juggling thirty different pieces, and I’m amazed and impressed you’ve made it this long. But do you seriously think you can hold this together? We’ve been at the Republic’s throat for a century and a half. More, really, if you count when they started applying pressure for us to ‘join.’ I know Aria wants to believe Amelia and her clique of mutineers, because yes, that’s what they are, mutineers, can reform it. But I don’t think that general is going to miraculously reinstate a centuries-dead democracy. Particularly not when she’s under a literal Empire.”

  “And this troubles you how, exactly? You are, last I checked, the second most powerful person in what is effectively a military dictatorship.”

  The high commander colored.

  “The Hegemon is elected by our people,” she hissed.

  “And when was the last time there was a candidate who wasn’t both an officer and a member of your strategic council?”

  The hallway fell silent.

  “I suppose that answers that,” Allya finished. “I don’t begrudge you your skepticism, High Commander. It is a healthy thing to have in these trying times. But like it or not, you work for me now.”

  The high commander stared at her, before slowly saluting.

  “Aye aye. What are your orders, ma’am?”

  “You already have them. We’re going to end the old Republic. After that?” She smiled. “We’re going to tackle the UDC.” Or at least, its isolationist remnants. “You want to fight evil and the enemies of your people? I can give you both in spades.”

  And then some, to say the least.

  She could give that little warmonger more and greater enemies than she had ever dreamed of.

  “Thank you for attending, and my apologies that I was not able to dedicate as much time to you as I would have wished,” Alexandra said as she sat down in front of the advisors. “The side effect of having a massive, once-in-a-lifetime summit to use as cover for this particular meetup is, unfortunately, that I have to deal with said massive summit and its many, many consequences.”

  There was a round of polite laughter, and Alexandra smiled.

  She didn’t even remember how long ago she’d started planning for this. But here it was. Twenty-six dungeon advisors in the same room, at the same time.

  They’d arrived over the last few days, most as the summit kicked off. She’d more or less palmed off the job of welcoming them to Emilia, which apparently was more or less expected. The maids had helped, of course, but they had the equally vital task of mingling among their fellow servants—not all of them had maids—and gathering info.

  They’d spent a lot of time touring the “public” parts of the dungeon, i.e., anything she’d have trusted Allya with before she was brought into the whole “Hey, I have high tech and I used to be a meatbag like you.”

  “I hope my hospitality has proven acceptable. But since time is short, and there are many events afoot in the world, some of which will require our attention shortly, I think it better to skip the rest of the niceties. You have all come here so that we could meet and coordinate for the coming campaign. Because let me be perfectly clear: I have beaten back the insane remnants of the UDC, but they are not yet defeated and will not give up so easily. The UDC’s bases and force concentrations in the south, thanks to dungeon core Eternia,” she nodded towards one of the advisors, who smiled, “have been largely neutralized. But there remains one key holdout, which has already struck at me directly, been a hub of enemy activity, and which, right now, is no doubt preparing to repair and rearm the fleet that so disastrously attempted to destroy my army. We must invade Tivaro and neutralize its dungeon core.”

  THIRTY-THREE

  Red Sands Desert, Aurorean Empire

  Dungeon Factory, Conference Room

  “Their primary force concentrations may have been destroyed, but they have attempted to reinforce minor outposts via air,” the advisor said as he tapped the holographic map. His mustache looked incongruous on a vampire, and it positively wobbled every time he spoke. Alexandra idly wondered if the old general look was deliberate, and if it was normal that so many of the advisors seemed to have some kind of military experience. Because so far, Emilia “I am an innocent sweet mage” seemed to be the exception and not the rule. “Thankfully, there are no hardcore isolationists in the south of the continent, but it is highly likely that at least one dungeon out of the ‘neutrals’ is giving them some level of support. Even if there wasn’t, they don’t seem to be willing to let the area fall out of their grasp completely.”

  “They wish to keep a beachhead,” Alexandra said simply, as she looked around the room. The table wasn’t as heavy on the food and drink as it usually was, but it was replete with holographic projectors, screens, and tablets. For all their faults, the vampires were at least refreshingly au fait with various technologies, though most of them were arcane in origin. “That much is obvious. To open a second front if I march on Tivaro, possibly. The question is, can they? Do they have the forces to do it?”

  “Not through airborne means,” another advisor answered. She looked young...and tired in the way only someone who had lived and experienced far too much could ever be. Ghost could probably relate. “Their air reserves are in the final stages of being brought back online, but they’re either preparing to move to Tivaro or deploying to counter our own air assets.” Alexandra nodded. The isolationists were technically more numerous, and had access to more “legacy” assets of the UDC’s common military program, but they were also less militarily active to begin with and generally had far worse relations with their immediate surface dwellers, at least when it came to troop movements. Most of their airships would be tied up just allowing them to act, since you could block the path of a ground column, but it could be very hard to stop an airship without shooting it down, a step most nations weren’t willing to take...yet.

  “What about waterborne ones?” Everyone turned towards Emilia, who shrugged. “I mean, Arkhan has a lot of coastline.”

  “They...might have expected to be able to land troops, and perhaps even form an alliance with Tark, had it attacked the senate and started taking land, drawing the New Republic and thus you into the fight. But that’s out the window,” said the young yet tired advisor—Mistay, if Alexandra remembered correctly. No one commented on how weird it was for the isolationists to rely on surface alliances for their strategy. Nor how insane it would be to try to approach Tark after having helped Sunrise of all people. The isolationists, after all, had done stupider things before. “Maybe they could land in the wildlands?”

  “Maybe,” said the first advisor who had spoken, his mustache wobbling like a startled squirrel. Was that thing even real or just poorly glued on? “In any case, that is going to tie down our capacity in the south for a while. That means you can only rely on Uron for your march on Tivaro, I’m afraid.”

  Alexandra nodded. Uron was the dungeon core of Sarth, and just about the only dungeon core with whom she had something approaching real discussions with and not effectively sending war correspondence to via proxy. It was kind of...dehumanizing, in a way.

  No wonder the UDC has encouraged council meetings where you had to show up via avatar or at least a hologram thereof. It was probably vital for their esprit de corps once the war was over. To see the other dungeon cores as fellows and people and not just some name on a letter.

  “That is unfortunate. But, not unexpected, sadly.” To say the least. Until she had wrapped up the real reason for inviting all these vampires over, she couldn’t trust or rely on any of their dungeons. Even if they had offered her help, she would have had to deflect or delay it until she could have a modicum of faith in them not turning into bloodthirsty abominations at the push of a button. “Fortunately, I do have considerable experience making it on my own.”

  “Will you? There have been...considerable questions as to what will happen when you march on Tivaro, related to the Aurorean Empire and its military,” said Kaliver, Emilia’s aunt. “Will it assist you? Will you be acting as a separate actor or will the Empire formally join your campaign, even if only in words?”

  Alexandra had to hold back a grimace. Theeeeere it was. The overly huggy woman had been waiting for her moment, hadn’t she? Though in a way, it was doing her a favor.

  “As you all know, I have a comprehensive military alliance with the Archduchy of Rebirth. This alliance has transferred over to the Empire, and⁠—”

  “I’m sorry, ‘has’?” Mistay interrupted. “The documents for the formation of the Empire itself haven’t even been drafted.”

  “Yes. ‘Has.’” Alexandra pressed a button on the table—superfluous, but theatrics was in her code—and holographic documents appeared over the table. “When war is already upon the Empire as it is being created, ensuring coherent military command is paramount.”

  There was total, absolute silence as they gazed at the documents.

  “Why, exactly, did the Empress not mention during her many declarations that you, Crystal of the Dungeon Factory, are the Lady General of the Empire’s armed forces and Minister of War?” Kaliver said, and this time her voice was deadly, deadly cold.

  “Because I have, in effect, been Rebirth’s for the past year or so, including the entirety of the Asarian civil war, also known as the largest and deadliest conflict on this continent for decades.”

  “...This isn’t intervening on the surface,” Mistay said, shock clear in her voice. “This is merging with the surface.”

  “Precisely,” Alexandra said, nodding towards the vampire as if she’d just made a helpful comment. “And that, my dear advisors, is why I have gathered you here.” A lie, but an excellent cover for her actual purpose. “The farce of keeping my dungeon and the archduchy separate as entities was just that, a farce. I have been working with Allya for months, and the pretense that there should be an insurmountable wall between dungeons and the people who depend on us for their very lives must be removed.” It had been a useful tool. A very useful tool. And she would be lying if she said she hadn’t considered keeping it in reserve. But truth be told, now was the time to drop the pretenses and put some cards down on the table. Not only would that enable her to simplify their internal logistics and military structure considerably, but it would also deliver one hell of a kick into the guild’s little anthill, one she desperately needed. Their security was too tight, and though her drones were ready, she needed them to slip up at home to find out what had happened to those weapons before they used them.