The screen goes black for a few fleeting seconds before the Ismay crest appears. Slowly, it fades to a woman, her face betraying the grief she feels.
“With great sorrow I bring you coverage of Sovereign Wilhelm von Ismay’s funeral,” she says looking at the camera. “The location of the funeral and final resting place of our lord sovereign is undisclosed for now, but a select group of reporters from the Anzatan Sentinel were allowed access to cover the sad event.”
Turning to a different camera she continues, “The family has not disclosed much information to the public other than a small statement earlier this past standard week saying that Commoner-Queen Keishi Miahr is not the true ruler of the Anzatan Commonwealth and her word holds no sway over the people. Only those elected can rule as regent to the throne until Sovereign Rasi von Ismay comes to age.”
“I will now take you to the heartrending event,” the anchorwoman says, tears glistening in her eyes.
The screen changes to a view of the tomb, the final resting place of Sovereign Wilhelm von Ismay. Seated around the coffin are the close friends and relatives of the fallen ruler. An Alissma Ruetsavii stands over it reciting holy words as the remaining members of the Ismay family cling to each other in grief.
The eldest of Wilhelm’s surviving brothers, Owen von Ismay, stands alone before the coffin, looking out over the assembled mourners coldly.
“People of the Galaxy and Anzat, friends and family, I thank you for your presence on this day.” He begins, speaking slowly as the image zooms in close. “When I first met my brother I was a junior Officer of the Imperial Army, he was Imperial Intelligence’s Chief of Analysis. Neither of us knew of our shared blood. For the next six years Wil was my best friend, my mentor, my rival, my superior, my subordinate, my enemy and my ally. But above all else, he was my brother. No matter what happened between us, we were always family.”
“Family mattered to Wilhelm. His protectiveness towards his siblings was legendary. Our exile from the ancestral estate of Belmont cut him deeply. For all his reputation as a womanizer, he was never unfaithful in a relationship. A few weeks before his death he told me that one of his greatest fears was not being able to trust me.” Owen smiled sadly. “Along with family, Anzat was my brother’s other great love. When Wilhelm re-established the independence of Anzat, it was a ruin unworthy of the name government. Less than forty million sentients called the New Anzat Order home, the treasury was empty and the budget was under five million credits per month. The only substantial military assets held were four Guardian-class Medium Cruisers. Today the Anzatan Commonwealth has over a billion citizens and the Commonwealth Navy is being reequipped with Kaloth-class Battlecruisers and Razor Starfighters.”
“Wilhelm and I did not always see eye to eye. We argued, we fought and I left the then New Anzat Order because our differences could not be reconciled. But Anzat today stands because of Wilhelm. He built it from the ground up, spent every credit he earned on it, and worked tirelessly for four years at great personal cost. There were many others who contributed, but none of us can claim to have done as much as Wilhelm did. Anzat’s status as a Sovereign, independent state is his legacy.”
“My brother made many enemies in his life. Yet it was those closest to him that betrayed and murdered him. Keishi Miahr and Cyril Xanthe owed everything to Wilhelm. Everything they have was given to them by him and they repaid him with this.”
“We will honor my brother Wilhelm. And we will not forget his killers.”
The image fades back to the news anchor, crying in her hands and then to nothing.
