"This is the first time I've ever run into anything of this sort."
The President of the Senate shrugged. He was an old man who had been placed in the Senate by his father in 1980. So long ago that people wondered when he would die. They were tired of these old men dictating to their ruler, as many people before them had been tired. The rise of the President of the Senate to leadership of that revered group had not been meteoric by any means. But his maintenance of the position had been tenacious. He was a careful man.
The President of the Senate shrugged. "It is. It is the first time anything of this sort has ever come up, Julius. Therefore it is up to you to set an example."
Caesar glanced over at General Bonadella. The General nodded in agreement with Senator Chianti.
"This sort of business can break up the Empire if it's allowed to continue, Caesar," he said, in his pompous military way. "I say death."
Major DeCosta nodded quietly.
"Thumbs down all around, is it?" Caesar sat down behind his desk and picked up the speaker of his private cable to London. He looked at the three men.
"Commander in charge of Garrison C," he said.
There was a silent moment.
They looked up as Prefect Lamberti of the Pretorians, the Imperial personal bodyguard (it had progressed far beyond that. Its enrollment was tremendous; its power second only to the Dictator's) came in. The Senator nodded. The two field soldiers turned quickly away. The men of the field did not get along with the Pretorian dandies.