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'No —' I tried to say.
'Yes! Swear it Ivan, on my deathbed swear it.'
She insisted. I relented, I was in her power.
'I swear it.'
I believe we made our son Ivan II on that first night of love together, or very shortly after, as she missed her next period while her fertilized egg grew in her womb.
There was peace in the galaxy, one that imperial rule hadn't enjoyed in the exclusion of civil war for 65 years, but star clouds were brewing in those poor isolated systems, where the war machine of rebellion brewed unchecked, as the Imperial Navy licked its wounds, unable to argue its case for rearmament. After two generations of continual civil war, the Empire had tired of conflict and were content to think that the temporary peace was here for good.
The peace lasted barely five years, but around the distant edges of the Empire the signs were there all along if you cared enough to look, and isolated systems were falling to the rebels as they continued their experiments with the F1 hybrids and secretly introduced the F2 hybrids. But for most of the Empire, when the civil war renewed in force it came out of the blue in a night of the long knives. A coordinated night that brought a swift end to an Empire that had existed for almost eight terrancenturies.
To be continued
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