To: Duchess Lauren Varley (@Lauren)
From: LCDR Sera Valore
Subj: In victory, stagnation. In defeat, progress.
To Her Esteemed and Most Serene Highness Lady Lauren Varley, Duchess of Montréal,
I trust that this missive finds you well and in good health. As you strike me as someone who finds both honorifics and brevity in good light, I will be right to the point: the invasion of our sister universe was a disaster. While Federation made war with us, we fought amongst each other and jockeyed for key positions. This cannot be permitted to continue in perpetuity.
The Emperor bet every drop of his political authority in an expansionist gambit and is now left with nothing. It will not surprise me if the throne is quickly made vacant.
The concept also worries me thusly. If the right people do not have power, the wrong people seize it. Verily, ours is a captainless ship of state asleep at the rudder and in need of new leadership. Someone who can force us to turn inwards, and to transform the dissident factions from anarchic rebels to loyalists dedicated utterly to The Nation. Only then will we truly be unstoppable and will the ailing democratic-republicanism be crushed by the majesty of our will.
In the past, you have reposed considerable trust in myself. I would care to impress the same now, so as to be able to reciprocate it in the future. I think we should talk about the future of our Nation in a private setting, swiftly rather than slowly as I fully expect others to be doing exactly the same.
To: LCDR Valore, S.
CC:
From: CAPT Varley, L.
Subj: Re: In victory, stagnation. In defeat, progress.
To the most vital and patriotic Lieutenant Commander Sera Valore,
Your vigilant regard for the continued prosperity of all Imperial citizens is truly without reproach, my friend. I was enjoying some kelpian caviar with my coffee this morning when your missive struck me with its eloquently placed yet immediately relevant concerns; indeed, these times of tumult and turbulence are truly deserving of our most direct attentiveness.
I know your noble heart weeps for the wounds of our great nation, but despair not, my devoted comrade. Whilst your Vulcan of perpetual sands bears no seasons, my Terra does. Allow me to speak of them to you. They are forces inevitable, passing as surely as time itself. There is little one can do resist them; such an effort is mad as it is futile. Yet the wise farmer may predict them with remarkable accuracy. She may prepare for the changes that will be brought upon her fields. She will know where to plant her seeds so that a harvest comes as surely as it did last season, and the last, and the last again.
The season of the Empire is changing, Commander. It will survive. If you should like to plan how you may survive with it, my heart would swell with delight to combine our efforts and our love for this grand nation. However, if you find yourself compelled to raise your fist to the sky- to curse the inscrutible heavens for the coming rain what promises to dispatch our current drought- then I fear we will have very little to discuss.
Sincerely,
//SIGNED//
Lady Lauren Varley,
Duchess of Montréal,
Captain of the I.S.S. Yamato
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