Don't Ask About My Demons

Feast

Lotor twirled the goblet in his hand as he looked over the brim to the emperor. His generals flanked him at the end of the long feast table while Zarkon and his favored generals made up the remaining guests.

"I must say, Lotor... you surprised me."

He smiled. "How So?"

"As a child you wanted nothing more than to please me, your father as well as your emperor... but you get older and surround yourself with... questionable company..."

Lotor's generals looked between one another. Ezor kept her composer despite her slight frown. Lotor noticed this and looked back to Zarkon, his gaze hardened. "I surround myself with skilled, loyal generals who wouldn't dream of rising against me. Therefore, I find their breeding to be irrelevant because I know without a shadow of a doubt that they will never fail me." He looked to the dinner guests then back up at Zarkon before continuing with a smile. "However...I wonder if this hatred you're harboring is based upon the fact that your own son is a half-breed. You think I failed you... Turns you into quite the hypocrite, does it not?

Zarkon growled lowly while Lotor only smiled, knowing he made his point. Zarkon's generals stiffened at the new information. They each sipped from their goblets. The tension in the room was so thick it could be cut with a knife.

Lotor didn't stop there. "In fact," Lotor continued. "I can list off two occasions in which your own generals have betrayed you... I, however, have a clean slate. I think that's reason enough to trust the people I choose to surround myself with. Wouldn't you agree, father?"

"Insolent child!" He banged his fists on the table.

He sat up straighter, commanding attention from the room as he raised his voice slightly. The key was to express his superiority. If the soma worked correctly, those who ingested it would accept the most commanding presence as their leader. "I'm only stating the truth. Look around you! Even your own guards will turn against you!" He stood tall, his voice booming yet controlled. The guards all stood with him, appearing to be visibly startled by their actions but having no intention of sitting down again. Lotor's eyes gleamed.

"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS!" Zarkon's voice boomed but Lotor sensed a hint of uncertainty in it.

"Are you afraid, father? Have all those years of neglecting your only son come back to haunt you? Such a shame it had to end like this, hm?"

"This is treason! You're conspiring against the empire!"

"I AM the empire! It's time you stepped down." He pushed his chair back and made his way toward Zarkon. Each step of his platformed boots echoed as he closed the distance between himself and the emperor. He moved to stand behind Zarkon and yanked his head back, pressing his dagger to the old emperor's neck. "Now you have one of two choices, you will bow to me and accept me as the new emperor... or you will die at the hands of a half-breed."

"Traitor!" He spit out the word as though it was acid on his tongue. The word bounced off the walls and back at them.

Lotor shook his head, feigning disappointment. "For that you are wrong... Between the two of us, it is you who killed our people... it is you who enslaved the galaxy... and it is YOU who will pay for your crimes!" With one swift flick of the blade, he slit Zarkon's throat. The dagger slid across Zarkon's neck with the ease of butter, a single drop falling to the floor as he swung the it back to his side. Just as Lotor predicted, the mighty Emperor Zarkon fell to the floor with a dull thud, his helmet tumbling off his head with a crash as it rolled to a stop near Lotor's feet. Lotor picked up the helmet and examined it before putting it on and sitting in Zarkon's seat. He nodded to the soldiers who remained standing and gestured to the table. He smiled. "Please sit. All are welcome here." The soldiers sat without question.