Prequel Rough Drafts

[As with the Fantasy, this was mostly just me fooling around.
I had the idea that I wanted to write a prequel that would explain how Fabulae came to be controlled by the Duke in the first place.  
I had a couple different ideas I thought would be interesting.
One idea would be to recreate the events surrounding the end of the Roman Republic.  
Another idea would be to recreate the events surrounding the coup d'etat of the original Napoleon.  (The Duke, of course, was loosely based on Napoleon I and Napoleon III).  
These rough notes for a prequel roughly follow the second idea.
Although the idea is not fully developed here, the loose plan was that Fabulae had been a republic for quite some time.  It was a corrupt republic controlled by a few aristocratic families (like the Roman Republic) but still a republic of sorts.
I had the idea that politics would get more and more radicalized, until some sort of events mirroring the chaos surrounding the Terror of the French Revolution was created.  And then this would necessitate the coup d'etat  by the Duke.
The rough idea outlined in these fragments is that there was some sort of external threat manifested by General Clavius.  General Clavius is sort of a Hitler-like figure.  But also sort of a Napoleon like figure.  (Readers of War and Peace will recognize the way that Penelope talks about Clavius similar to the opening lines of War and Peace discussing Napoleon.)  The influences get confusing here, since the Duke is also based on Napoleon, but since this is fiction I'm allowing myself some lee-way for multiple interpretations.
The liberals are opposed to General Clavius, but the conservatives still have some business ties to General Clavius.  
Had I continued this story, General Clavius would have become more of a threat, and invaded Fabulae.  The paranoia around General Clavius would have become more and more, similar to in the French Revolution, the paranoia was increased by external invasion.  Eventually the liberals would use this paranoia to gain power, and start executing the conservatives--who the liberals perceived as sympathetic to General Clavius. As in the French Revolution, the executions would have started with the obvious people, but then kept going to less obvious people, until innocent people were being executed, and then the liberals would have turned on each other, and started executing each other.  And that would lead to the coup d'etat by the Duke.
While this was going on, there would have been a parallel story going on, fragments of which are also below.
The parallel story would have been a spy story.
Why a spy story?  No obvious reason really, other than the fact that I was becoming a bit bored with all the political stuff, and I wanted to have some fun with pulp fiction.  So I wanted elements of James Bond/ Sherlock Holmes/ Fu Manchu.
While the political story was going on, there would also be a cloak-and-dagger spy story about General Clavius's spies in Fabulae.  
I had it in mind that Paul and Timothy would both be young apprentices under the old experienced spy Burton.  They would both come from working class families (in order to contrast with Jon's privileged up bringing) and would work their way up into power. 
Eventually, Paul and Timothy would join forces with the Duke.
I've largely decided to go in a different direction with the prequel in The Tragedy, but some elements of this original draft can still be seen in the new draft.  ]

"More wine, Ash?"

"Certainly not, he's had quite enough to drink already." Bruce's hand quickly came out and covered the open bottle.

Ash shrugged. "If he says so then."

Penelope frowned. "Really, you're never any fun, Bruce. Why not let him have another glass? He's not drunk yet."

Ash spoke no words in his own defence, but his eyes added a silent appeal.

"Absolutely not. You know what he's like when he starts drinking. He'll be spouting off his crazy political opinions before you know it."

"But surely we're all friends here," Penelope said.

This brought about an awkward silence, in which Bruce and Ash simply stared across the table at Pierre and Andre. Finally Andre coughed delicately. "I believe the agreement was to avoid any political conversation at these soires," he said. "It's the only way we can keep the peace between politicians from opposing parties."

Pierre added, "Women just don't understand these things."

Andre winced at hearing this, but Penelope was far too experienced a hostess to be thrown by a remark like this. She knew her job was to hurry the conversation past this indelicate remark before anyone had a chance to dwell on it.

"I believe I understand world affairs as well as anyone. I've been reading in all the papers today that General Clavius has taken control of the kingdoms of Estatia, and Lotia, and plans to add them to his personal domains. Surely this is a subject which we can all agree, conservative or liberal. He has gone too far and must now be stopped."

"Indeed Penelope, you have touched on a subject which we can all agree," said Andre. "Perhaps one of the only subjects on which we all agree. Clauvius must be stopped, there is no doubt about that. But what is the best way to stop him? Should we use our diplomatic influence, or flex our military muscle? And it is on this point that you will find disagreement."

"Ah, but what Andre is not telling you is that his family still maintains very profitable trading relationships with Clavius and that is why he is reluctant to talk about war."

"Any talk of war is premature," Pierre interjected. "Clavius's actions are illegal and despicable, but he has not threatened the peace of the continent yet. We can not go to war until our own interests our threatened."

"How can you say that?" asked Ash. "He's rounded up and killed thousands of Gibbeonites. The moral conscience of the whole world cries out."

"I remind you that our government has condemned those massacres in the strongest terms," Andre said.

"Yes, but your family business continues to trade with him."

"My father has personally made a statement condemning the massacres. But whether or not we continue to trade with Clavius has no effect one way or another on his domestic policy. If anything, the increased flow of capital and trade might serve to divert him and his countrymen from their insanity. Once they realize trade is more profitable to them than war, they'll take world opinion a lot more seriously."

"Oh, save that line for The Assembly," Ash spat. "But don't insult our intelligence here. You don't expect us to believe that you are refusing to end a trading agreement earning you billions of units because you believe you're helping the Gibbeonites.

***GAP***

"You don't care about the Gibbeonites," Bruce answered. "You haven't done anything to improve the lives of the thousands of them working in your factories. And you've opposed any of the laws we've proposed to help their condition."

"And now it is you who I must ask to save your speeches for the assembly,"

***GAP***

It was hard to see anything through the smoke. And there wasn't much use trying. He had learned that lesson long ago.

Instead, he simply sat down in the chair and waited.

Sure enough, a foreign looking boy soon came to his table. "We have some empty beds, over there," the boy said, indicating some rancid looking mattresses next to the wall.

"I won't be needing a bed tonight. Just bring me the usual bowl."

The boy scampered off, and he leaned back in his chair. It was a long shot being here, but every once and a while it paid off.

Through the thick haze he already made out a few figures. The tall thin man at the next table was Jasper, who he had already arrested twice, but whom the courts had forced him to release for lack of evidence.

Jasper was deep in conversation with another man with a rodent like face. This was Tyrell, whom he had also busted in the past. But until this moment, he had not realized there was any connection between Jasper and Tyrell.

What were the two of them talking about? And how did they know each other?

It was no use trying to read lips in this fog, but if he got just a little bit closer maybe he could overhear what they were saying.

Casually, he stood up and sat down at a closer table. They shouldn't be able to recognize him with this disguise on, but he kept his head down just in case.

Tyrell was talking. "What do you think?" he asked.

"I already told the big man I was in," answered Jasper. "It's just too good an opportunity to pass up."

"You realize he's insane!"

***GAP (Maybe)***

A hand roughly pulled him from his chair. "I thought I told you never to come here again."

It was the Etructican sailor, the owner of the bar.

"You might have mentioned something like that. I tend to be forgetful."

"Well here's something to help you remember."

The sailor pulled out a knife. The man barely had time to register what it was before the sailor thrust it forward. He caught the sailor's wrist and was able to hold back the knife in time to avoid being stabbed on it. Then he twisted the wrist back until the sailor cried out in pain and dropped the knife.

The sailor still had a hold of him by the shoulder. He slipped his arms out of his coat, freeing himself so that the sailor was left holding only a garment.

The sailor's bulk was significantly larger than his, so he looked for something to use as a weapon. He grabbed the chair he had just been sitting in, and swung it at the sailor's head. The sailor's hand shot out and grabbed the chair. The sailor swung a punch at him, but he jumped up and leaped backwards over the table, avoiding the blow. He was quick on his feet and agile like a cat, and he landed perfectly.

The sailor however was unimpressed. He continued advancing unabated. In fact the sailor had now retrieved his fallen knife from the floor, so he was now armed as well.

The commotion had attracted some of the den's customers, and Jasper and Tyrell were coming to assist. "It's him," the sailor called out. "It's Burton."

Hearing this, almost all of the customers got ready to attack, although most of them were still in a drug haze.

Burton pushed over one of the tables. Bottles of gin and opium bowls crashed to the floor. He picked up the table and ran with it straight into the approaching crowd of opium addicts, knocking them over.