Coup ďÉtat

Part 1.

It was the dead of the night. Young Trévutó, a medium ranking officer under the Kommandante of the Toškhát Army with liberties granted not privvy to others of equal rank as second son of Dominante Dâutên, running silently and swiftly on all fours, avoiding adjacent and surrounding structures, made his way across the vast flats of Kšetai Rakhát, towards the Palace of the Dominante. As both an expert hunter and expert strategist, he was convinced that now - that very night - was the time to strike - the time and opportunity to undertake that which he had planned for some several months.

His plan was neither of spite, anger nor hatred - Simply, he felt it was what had to be done. He would act fast, without warning and without hand - He would do this alone, and alone, claim victory. He respected his father - the Dominante Dâutên - dearly, but his father was rapidly growing old, slow to make the correct choices in leadership and quick to make the wrong ones, fickle in his ways, but most notably - Young Trévutó felt himself to have long since overtaken his father in leadership abilities, and simply put, that was enough. His elder brother - The favourite son and next in line to take leadership, so far as Trévutó was concerned, was not an option - His elder brother was slow-witted, lazy, a pathetic strategist, and held more interest in females than in politics, and had long since been corrupted by their father's fickle nature.

Silently, he made his way directly towards the front entrance of the palace - as per usual, guards stood steadfast outside, but seemingly relaxed, expecting no trouble that night. As he approached, Trévutó slowed down to a walking pace on twos and looked the two guards by the door directly in the eyes - They immediately returned glances upon noticing his presence, but immediately looked away again the moment they realised who he was - For an inferior ranked officer to stare a superior ranked officer in the eyes for too long could be considered as aggressive language and asking for a fight.

Before either guard could ask why he was there, Trévutó, continuing to walk straight past and half ignoring the guards, in a tone that suggested getting in the way could be dangerous, spoke. "I'm here to see the Dominante!!"

Inside the palace, the walls were tall and floors were wide - Toškhát, as a race that unlike most sentient races, evolving atop trees and within forests, originally evolved on the open plains, hunting smaller and weaker creatures, and as a race generally larger and more built than most others, enjoyed wide open space, and this was reflected in their architecture - Especially in that commissioned by the Dominante, who held and invariably controlled most of the wealth in the empire.

There were both residents - those that the Dominante allowed to stay there for whatever reasons he may have had - and staff alike, throughout, but none bothered him - He was, afterall, the second son of the Dominante - Which made this day all the more convenient, being a quiet day without due cause for just about anything at the palace or surrounds.

His brother, whom rarely left the confines of the palace, as the easiest target, would be first - As much as he'd rather not harm his brother, and as much as he could easily dominate his brother and gain his submission, he doubted that should his brother be alive, he could have the military, palace guard or his father's supporters give him submission, so he continued onwards.

Walking slowly and calmly up the main palace stairs towards the second storey, where his brother's quarters lay, he progressed unhindered; Alas, this had to be done alone, for if he had assistance from any outside source, he could not approach this simply without arousing suspicion.

After some minutes, he reached his brother's quarters. Before announcing his presence, he carefully listening inwards - Several groaning noises from two parties - him and another - within, indicated that he was there, but not alone - An unfamiliar female voice, but the reason of her being there all too familiar, left Trévutó feeling somewhat uncomfortable standing there but gave him good reason to wait nonetheless - Interrupting his brother at that point would undoubtedly leave his brother angry and seeking a fight, but to the contrary, waiting out his brother's folly would leave his brother weakened and easier to remove.

After some time, some words, below audibility, exchanged within, the door opened, and a frazzled looking female stormed out, leaving the door open behind her. Waiting for her exit, Trévutó moved towards the door and looked within - His brother lay exhausted on his bed, not even recognising his presence. Entering and closing the door behind, he spoke up in a friendly tone. "Older brother! I do hope I'm not interrupting anything."

With a slightly growl of irritation, his brother responded hastily, not bothering to open his eyes. "What do you want, younger brother?"

Trévutó, purring slightly, sat on the far edge of the bed, close enough to talk on friendly terms but far enough to not suddenly agitate his brother. "What, I have to want something? It has been nearly a week! I can't simply see how you are doing?"

His elder brother rolled away from Trévutó, facing away, leaving his back exposed. "I'm tired, younger brother. Go away; Come back later."

Trévutó waited for a second or two - Though he should've acted immediately, being a family member, there was some short hesitation. But it did not last. Swiftly pulling out a thick, short, curved dagger from his belt, in one motion, lunged forward, locked around his brother's body from behind to prevent his fighting back, held shut his brother's mouth to prevent his yells with one hand and slit his throat with the other - A look of alarm, confusion and absolute terror quickly replaced his brother's tired expression as he tired to yelp. Alas, his natural Toškhát claws and teeth would be sufficient for the job, but he could not afford, at that time, to be seem leaving his brother's room covered in blood. As blood began quickly escaping from the thin red line quickly expanding on his brother's throat, Trévutó whispered quietly. "This is not personal - This is for the empire. I must end the chaos. Be well in the afterlife and do not linger, brother."

Within a minute, without a sound, it was over. Carefully wiping clean his blade on the bedsheets, Trévutó made his way towards the door. As he walked out quietly, equally quietly, he shut the door behind him and looked towards a servant that stood tentatively nearby. "Eldest son of the Dominante does not want to be bothered at this time - No one enters until morning!"

With the nod, the servant moved away quickly.

Despite what had just happened, Trévutó's only thoughts were finishing what he'd just started. Moving once again up the stairs, he made his way towards his father's chambers.

End of Part 1.

(( BTW, I recommend listening to this song by Peter Gabriel whilst reading this thread, because it worked brilliantly -> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_lPR40ZLD-w ))

Part 2.

As with his brother's, Trévutó slowly and calmly made his way to his father's quarters - The top floor of the palace, directly adjacent to the palace's military debriefing room.

Occasionally he caught a few glances from passerbys - Mostly officers and higher ranked staff, as no servant would dare look a child of the Dominante in the eye without invitation - But mostly, due course was uneventful and without hindrance.

When he did eventually reach his father's floor, there were two guards blocking the entrance - They'd have to be removed.

Trévutó gave them a hard look in the eyes - They stared back with an equal expression, unmoving. They guarded the doors of the Dominante - This was no surprise. The elder of the two growled under his voice. "What do you want, kitten?"

Trévutó stood his ground. "I am Trévutó, second son of the Dominante - I am here to see him."

Their body language shifted slightly in a aggressive-defensive gesture, the younger of the two guards moving his hand to rest the palm just above the longsword by his side. The elder of the two remained steadfast. "The Dominante does not wish to be disturbed!"

Trévutó bared his teeth. "I am his son, and he has asked to see me!"

Such, of course, was not true; But alas, in his case, may be believable. "Stand aside, both of you!"

After several moments and a quick glance to one another, as if the confirm, the pair stood aside.

Trévutó entered.

Inside, his father's chambers were about as luxurious as could possibly be for what they were and for what the bizarre and often twisted tastes of the Toškhát were worth - Carefully refined marble floors with thick matted carpets (and though rare, the occasional red splotch, the results of direct subordinates that disobeyed his orders), tall ceilings, high windows with equally high curtains, matching the national colours - And his father, sitting beside his spiritual aide; the Kšetai Rakhát High Priest of the Trialith. The two were deep in discussion and barely noticed his appearance - The High Priest, having signed a vow of pacifism upon ordainment, would pose no threat.

As Trévutó began walking towards the pair, they both turned to face his direction.

His father, Dominante Dâutên, casually looking his way, spoke in a friendly manner. "Trévutó! What are you doing here?"

Trévutó, purring slightly - a feigned show of friendliness - walked alongside. "I came to see you, of course. Do I need any other reason..?"

Why does everyone keep asking me that?

He'd have to act carefully if he were to succeed - His father had survived numerous attempts on his life throughout the years, on occasion, fending off over two assassination attempts per week one particular year when food and resources in the empire ran short, and to-date, none had come close to succeeding - He'd taken the seat of power through promises of renewed national strength and leadership ability, and maintained it, mostly, through personal physical strength and the ability to efficiently kill those that tried to kill him.

The Dominante's expression changed in a manner that, though fairly different, equated to a human smile. "Of course not."

End of Part 2.

Part 3.

Nearly an hour passed - Both the Dominante and his aide talked at great length over both political and personal matters, matters or both relevance and absurdity - Matters both concerning the continued maintenance of fragile food supplies, current threats both external and internal, and threats of a more intangible matter - Threats of enemies long since already defeated, and enemies spiritual in nature - Fears of a paranoid and inapt leader.

Occasionally, Trévutó would be invited to share his opinion, but he was the youngest of the three and knew better than overstep his place at that point in time. Alas, soon it would not matter. For the time being, he waited patiently for the opportune moment, but time was running short - They'd eventually either find his brother or realise what he was doing, and if that happened before he could succeed, he'd be severely punished and never have the same opportunity again. And he must be careful - His father may have been friendly enough, but he never truly trust anyone, his sons no exception.

Suddenly, yelling could be heard from downstairs, quickly followed by the sounds of running. The Dominante and his aide both immediately stood up, alert and poise. Time was running short. All three heard clearly as footsteps came running towards his door. Some muffled arguing could be heard outside, and within a second or two, an officer that Trévutó immediately reconigsed as the First Officer of the Kommandante stepped through the door with six guards following behind, two of them the guards previously guarding the doors; The First Officer of the Kommandate bowed his head and saluted, as per rank. "Dominante!!"

The Dominante's eyes narrowed. "What's going on?"

He knew what they were there for, and the opportune moment would never arrive - Trévutó had to act immediately. Resting the palm of his hand just above the hilt of his dagger, he prepared to strike the moment the officer answered. "Khrál, your first son, is dead."

"WHAT?!" The Dominante was caught off guard, and now was the one and only time to strike. His aide had moved aside, towards the edge of the room, as per his nature - As a pacifist and spiritualist, when these such situations arose, he kept out unless asked otherwise, and the Dominante had his back exposed to Trévutó, unprepared.

Before the Dominante had a chance to react or realise what was going on, Trévutó silently walked up directly behind the Dominante, and silently drew his dagger, in one swift motion, sliced around and dug down deep into the Dominante's throat, targeting the jugular.

Somehow, in that split second, by chance, where no one else had succeeded before, he'd succeeded - But the Dominante was not going to be killed that easily. In a fit of surprise, fear and rage, the moment the blade struck, the Dominante yelled out - A blood curdling roar that undoubtedly upped the adrenaline for anyone within audible range, Trévutó being no exception. With a hard, swift and painful elbow to the chest, the Dominante threw Trévutó back, and before he had a chance to recover, swinging around and unsheathing his claws, swiped across Trévutó's face, hard, throwing back a few feet and leaving four bloodied lines across his face not too dissimilar in appearance from the 'Blood Claw' Ensign used by their country's army. The Dominante raised the hand that remained sheathed and quickly grabbed around his own throat - Either an attempt to assess the damage or as a futile attempt to prevent rapid blood loss from taking hold. "ARGH..! YOU THINK YOU CAN TAKE ME?! INSOLENT WHELP!"

Immediately, Khrál, his older brother, was forgotten, and the focus was redirected to him.

Fights amongst Toškhát adults were almost always fatal - As well-built as they were, their offensive capacity far outweighed the capacity of a vital organ surviving a quick, sharp, swift blow - As a result, most Toškhát knew instinctively to not intervene in a fight between two others. Because of this, Trévutó knew that the guards would not draw their claws or their swords - But that may have been of little consequence if he lost this fight.

He did not respond - Words took breath - Breath took time and energy - And he'd need every ounce of his to win. Unsheathing toe-claws, he dug his feet down and readied his dagger - The Dominante appeared to care little, unreactive to this as he prepared to lunge at his second son, one craw unsheathed and at ready, the other holding back the pool of blood forming at the opening to his wound.

One of the guards shouted a few words, and immediately, everyone in the room except for Trévutó, the Dominante and his aide, raised the hand canons that they carried as standard issue to the armed forces at Trévutó. "PROTECT THE DOMINANT! KILL THE TRAITOR!"

In a panic, the First Officer, waving his arms in front of the guards in a flurry, blocking their aim of Trévutó, shouted back to the guards. "NO! TOO CLOSE! TOO INACCURATE! YOU MIGHT KILL BOTH OF THEM OR HIT THE DOMINANTE!"

The Dominante lunged - Trévutó struck upwards, aiming for the chest - The Dominante, apparently ignoring Trévutó's blade, fell straight onto it, the weight of his body and strength of the trust forcing the blade deep into his abdomen and ripping upwards, directly along the sternum - However, simultaneously, the Dominante dug claws deep into both of Trévutó's shoulders and bit down towards his throat. Clearly, the Dominante was being controlled by his own rage, for no individual in conscious mind would get themselves killed in a fight so openly. In a panic, Trévutó rolled back, punching the Dominante in the face as he bit down and thrusting his feet upwards in an attempt to throw him off - The punch partially parried the bite and threw loose the hand clenching the Dominante's throat, leaving the Dominante to bite down on the fleshy part of Trévutó shoulder and permitting blood to flow freely from the wound of Trévutó's dagger. Trévutó yelped in pain as he thrusted upwards - His father flung off over his shoulder and crashing down into a nearby table, shattering it into pieces.

Growling in pain, the Dominante slowly began to stand, covered in both their blood - though mostly his own - and turn towards his attacker. Trévutó couldn't afford to let this fight linger; Readying his blade once more, he yelled and rushed forward, diving low and thrusting upwards with his dagger once more, striking the Dominante from below - Multiple slashes across his stomach and abdomen, and too weakened to fight back, several second later, innards fell loose onto the floor. The Dominante remained standing, steadfast, but unmoving and silent - Trévutó backed away slightly.

Several seconds passed and the Dominante collapsed.

Trévutó, wiping what blood he could off of his clothing, turned to face the guards. Immediately, they re-aimed their hand canons towards him. None of them seemed entirely sure what exactly had just happened. The first officer was the first to speak. "Do not move, traitor!"

Standing tall and fearlessly, Trévutó spoke. "Dâutên grew feeble and old! A paranoid, senile leader that has failed to enrich our country since the peak of his power and has seen our strength slowly wane over the course of the last few decades! He fulfilled his role honourably, and his time has come to and end - I have hurried him to it for the sake of our people and will take his place!"

The first officer did not fire, but nor did he waver. "You will do no such thing, traitor!"

With a slightly growl under his breath, Trévutó continued. "I am his son - I grew up seeing his rule, learnt his ways, grew up with the best of training and have learnt the ways of our culture - The first son was always a pathetic excuse for a future leader that would surely see our culture and our people destroyed, AND YOU KNOW IT! HE WAS WEAK! A WEAK LEADER IS AN INSULT TO THE TRIALITH! Both of them HAD to killed. I dare you to tell me otherwise."

Waiting a second or two, hearing no further reply, he continued. "But I am strong. I know what we need, and I will deliver it. And if any of you think of going against me, I'll kill you where you stand."

He looked towards the High Priest. "I am hereby demanding the Rite of the Dominante. Under law, you must comply. Fail to comply, and you will be stripped of your rank. Comply, and they will submit to me."

Understanding, the High Priest nodded. Trévutó turned back towards the guards. "I am the new Dominante. Submit to me."

After some several minutes, one by one, they lowered their weapons and bowed their heads.

Now all he had to do was have each of the countries generals submit to him - If he failed to do so, they may very well do to him what he did to his predecessor and take the rite away from him. First step first, however - He had to secure the palace.

He wasted no time getting to work - Within a number of hours, the palace was secure and he'd sent out subordinates to locate each general and inform them of the change of power, as well as subordinates to various sites around the countryside, including local embassies.

He had won.

End of Part 3