The Ikon

[arvg]

He drummed his pen on the edge of the circular politburo table in the heart of the Kremlin Dome on Volgograd. It was the same room where Major Steele's had assassinated Admiral Karchov, spiralling into the chaos of Commandante Scott's coup attempt.

Four Coups in the year that he had taken absoloute authourity over the Coalition.

The Hardliners, Followed by His Watchful Eye, Scott, and then the Volkhan. Each with an agenda that sought to rob the people of the Coalition of party rule, of the Socialist Republic that they were trying to build. And there were still those lurking in the shadows of Omega-52 that felt that McIntosh's way was the right way, that through strength of arms alone would they actually be able to accomplish their goals.

The ordeals hadn't weakened the Premier's resolve. The collapse of the Order Alliance, a ripe betrayal that had plunged the Coalition into a cycle of self-doubt was now a catalyst, binding them together. The had come thorugh the darkness of the Volkhan, and were now stepping back onto the path that Katz, the architect of the new Coalition, was setting forth.

The faces around the table were mostly new, save for the old and familiar ones of Admiral Stansislaw, who Katz secretly mused was probably into his ninth or tenth stage of mummification, the dust on his lapels and peaked hat were one clue... however the steady snoring from the old goat, as he slept through yet another meeting were the only indication of his steadfast refusal to just keel over and die.

Mendel sat on his right-hand side, free of the nerve staple, and back to doing what he did best, in service to the Premier... someone had to be the devil's advocate, and since Mendel had sold his soul some time back, who better?

"I have word that Ulrich and Via are on their way to deal with our little rat infestation of the southern command bunker," Mendel observed, flipping through reports.

"Redemption for them," Katz murmured back, half listening to Ares boisterously reporting of the progress of the Santiago colony towards decontamination using the 'scrubbies' the Zoners had brought in.

"Well, when those two muppets actually get the scrawny Volkhan bastard, I'd like an hour alone with him... you know, in the Maximum fun chamber..." Mendel's eyes were deathly serious.

Katz shrugged, "depends on those two really. Though I expect that soon, all that will remain of the Volkhan and his legacy will be a dull red smear on concrete."

"All hail the Ikon of Ikons," Mendel muttered, sitting back and drinking his coffee.

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