St. Legier

by Blaze Ward

  Vo had learned more than he ever wanted to know about ground-to-sky operational communications security by invading a hostile planet as a Ground Forces Coordinator. The dude who had to talk to everyone, all the time.

  Iskra was aging well, from the last time he had seen her in person. Still a babe. The tips of her hair were mostly blond, and everything coming in underneath was gray and white now. If you looked closely, you could see the fine scars running perpendicular to the wrinkles that she was accumulating.

  “Good morning, General zu Arlo,” Iskra greeted him with a nod and perhaps a hint of a smile. “To what do I owe the honor?”

  “I can’t call to say hello to an old friend, Vlahovic?” he countered.

  Iskra laughed.

  “Vo Arlo was never about small talk,” she said. “Even as a snot-nosed punk, disciple of Navin. What’s up?”

  Vo shrugged. She had a point. She had also known him for probably all of his career, even if they had never been all that friendly, nor dated.

  “Since last time we talked, my life has gotten a bit complicated,” Vo began.

  “Ha,” she said. “Understatement of the year.”

  “Yeah, well,” he offered. “I was put in command of the 189th and told to turn them into a Legion. So far, so good. Then that bastard blew up Werder and Wachturm put me in charge of the recovery effort until he got back. And left me here when he did. But it’s been six months, and while things won’t be back to normal in my lifetime, we’re at least to a point where someone else can be in charge and I can go do what I set out to do.”

  “You set out to build a strike Legion, Arlo,” Iskra countered. “What’s that got to do with me?”

  “You brought Digger,” Vo said. “And the assault carriers RAN Archangel and RAN Akatsuki. And you aren’t staying long, I’m guessing, considering the rest of your task force.”

  “What’s anybody told you?” she asked sharply.

  “Nothing,” Vo said. “But a Fleet Strike Carrier isn’t something we need here. It’s something Jessica might find useful, though.”

  “And?”

  “And so I was wondering what your orders were, concerning those two vessels?” Vo said.

  “My orders were to escort them this far,” Iskra said. “While I might have additional orders for the rest of the squadron, I’m not at liberty to discuss them over an open line.”

  Translation: Yes, Jessica’s getting reinforced. Maybe picking up a couple of IFV line vessels as well, if the Grand Admiral feels he can spare something.

  One more vessel wouldn’t mean much on the front, especially the way Jessica was apparently slashing at Buran, but as part of a larger force, it gave her options. Like Vo wanted to do.

  “So who do I talk to about Digger’s taxis?” Vo pressed.

  Iskra had always had the most evil smile, when she wanted to use it. Like now.

  “I brought a Palsgrave with me, as well, Vo,” she smiled. “You’ll have to talk to her.”

  “A what?” he was surprised. “Who?”

  “Former Senator Chavarría,” Iskra said. “The former Premier.”

  “Former?”

  “They had an election, just about the time news of St. Legier arrived,” Iskra said. “Nils Kasum’s old buddy Tad Horvat returned to power. She retired, and he sent her out with me.”

  “Palsgrave, though?” Vo breathed out carefully.

  Wakely Okafor had been Palsgrave at Thuringwell, exercising legal authority over the newly-conquered planet until such time as a more formal government could be instituted. It went beyond Governor. Way beyond.

  “Yuppers,” Iskra said.

  “How soon until you leave on your next leg?” Vo asked.

  “You’ve got time to work your swindle, Vo,” she laughed. “I need to offload two carriers and two Fleet Replenishment Freighters, then reload Leggett and Redding with fresh supplies. Call it a month, dead minimum, before you run out of possible launch windows.”

  “This will have to come through official channels, Iskra,” Vo said. “But put in a good word for me?”

  “You got it,” she said. “Anything else you needed?”

  “No,” Vo said. “Thank you.”

  And at that, she was gone.

  Vo stared at his reflection on the dark screen. The military side of things wouldn’t be that difficult. Mostly logistics, to shift all his men and their gear around while handing off to other units and civilians as Digger came on line. That boy was crazy, but an expert.

  The political would be interesting. He had never met the Premier when she was in office, but she had personally signed off on the original orders sending him here the first time. Commanded the Act of the Senate that made it possible for him to become zu Arlo, so she had to know who he was at a pretty good level.

  And she was here, with the authority to make legally-binding decisions for the government back home, and the Navy. Plus, she had two Assault Carriers just sitting around, doing nothing.

  How bad did Aquitaine want to support the war effort?

  Chapter LIII

  Imperial Founding: 180/04/26. Mejico, St. Legier

  Getting Digger Wolanski and his Legion down and engaged had been the easy part, as far as Vo was concerned. Just provide coordinates and time windows to everyone, and let DropShips sometimes flatten ruins with their immense mass, so they could offload the heavy equipment right on scene and go to work.

  A Palsgrave was a whole other level of complicated.

  Aquitaine had always maintained some level of diplomatic relations with Fribourg, even in the worst parts of the war. There were no friendly neutrals who could provide a diplomatic cover, so each side had maintained observer missions. They weren’t spies, because everything they did was tightly watched at all times, but it allowed the two governments to talk. To negotiate truces and quiet zones. To arrange prisoner exchanges with a minimum of fuss.

  It has only been with The Peace that full Ambassadors had been exchanged. Probably professional spies as well, in addition to the sleepers and secret agents both sides had always maintained.

  Adding someone with Palatine authority had required a formal Acceptance that took several days of celebrations, conferences, and baby-kissing by all the major players. Even Vo had been dragged into it, but had never gotten more than thirty seconds with Governor Chavarría, and not alone. Just enough to ask for a private meeting at her earliest convenience.

  Days had passed, but at least he was here.

  Less-important folks had been evicted from one of the originally surviving hotels in downtown Mejico, across the square from Tenochtitlan and slightly removed down a side street that paralleled the river. Vo presumed all the rooms on the backside had a good view of the river itself, plus all the construction work happening on the heights across the valley. Mejico had survived because of the depth of the river valley, allowing the firestorm to mostly pass overhead, rather than scouring the earth itself clear, as it had done closer to the epicenter and further out.

  Vo was in sage today. He could do the Class Two uniform, since he was coming hat in hand to ask a favor. Alan Katche had joined him, having broken out his own uniform from storage for the day.

  There were bodyguards and armed troops everywhere in Mejico, considering the number of important people centered here, but most of them were either 189th troopers, or Inmon’s Household Guards detachment for Casey and a few others. So it was odd, running into a group of RAN marines guarding the outside of the building inside the ring of his own troopers.

  Weirder, all the people on the fifth floor wore green and black. It took him back, but it was also something of a shock, since he hadn’t worn that uniform in over a year. Still, the men and women on duty were professional and courteous, even if there were no faces he knew among them.

  Vo wondered as they climbed stairs if he should have Reese rotate Victoria Ames through this detachment for a week, just so she could see professionally-armed women as a model.

  He must ha
ve smiled. Alan was smiling back.

  “Thinking we should put Ames here,” Alan said. “Can you spare half of Cutlass Ten for a week?”

  “Absolutely,” Vo said. “Was just asking myself that same question.”

  “You should stop reading my mind, Vo,” Alan said. “It’ll make at least one of us an accomplice.”

  Vo was laughing as they emerged onto the top floor and got inspected again. He had left the belt with his pistol back in his office. The sword was in his quarters for special occasions, like parades.

  Or duels.

  These troopers escorted them into a private meeting with the Palsgrave and a handful of assistants of no particular note. Probably local diplomats and culture experts. Nobody Vo knew or cared about.

  He was seated across from her at a dinner table in the suite she was using. It was oak, stained almost black, with a pretty strip of off-white cloth about a meter wide running down the long axis, like a horizontal volleyball net. Judit Chavarría alone on her side, him and Alan on this side.

  Probably about an even match, considering all the things Vo had heard about the woman while she was in power.

  The small talk was out of the way. He and Alan had coffee. Judit, as she insisted on, was drinking tea. Her famous fingernails were red, gold, and white today, which Vo found interesting, since those were the colors of the Imperial House. He wondered if Judit had brought her own specialist with her across the light years, just to do her nails regularly.

  He had seen weirder things in his time.

  “So, Vo, Alan,” she began finally. “How may I be of service today?”

  Vo had hunted enough wild animals in his day to understand a bear trap when he saw one. Even in the form of stocky, middle-aged women. Still, he was here for a reason. Really only one.

  “I had a conversation with Fleet Centurion Vlahovic when you first arrived,” Vo said. “For obvious reasons, she was not willing to discuss her future movement orders, but it left me with a few unanswered questions. She suggested I talk to you.”

  “I see,” Judit replied. “She and I had a conversation after that, as I will be remaining on St. Legier after she departs.”

  “Yes,” Vo agreed. “As will Twenty-Third Ladaux.”

  “That is correct,” Judit said. “The Senate has offered the Empire the full use of Digger’s Legion, expenses paid, for a year. After that, we will determine if the contract should be extended or renegotiated, depending on circumstances.”

  Circumstances. Like who was in charge here, a year from now?

  Vo kept the thoughts off of his face. Judit Chavarría was a far more dangerous foe than Arald Rohm ever dreamed of being.

  “I am interested in that year of lag, Palsgrave,” Vo ventured.

  “Oh?”

  “Yes,” he continued, hoping he wasn’t about to stick his foot in that bear trap. “Specifically, the two vessels that delivered Twenty-Third Ladaux, RAN Archangel and RAN Akatsuki.”

  Vo didn’t like the spark that seemed to light in her eyes at those names.

  “The Assault Carriers,” she said.

  It wasn’t a question, and they both knew it. Vo nodded.

  “The Assault Carriers, yes.”

  “What, specifically, were you interested in, General zu Arlo?” she pressed.

  It didn’t feel like a knife about to enter his kidney. Still, he had asked for this meeting. This joust had been his idea.

  “Borrowing them,” he said simply. “Perhaps leasing them, but I’m no longer functioning as Margrave of this planet, so the new Grand Marshal would likely get involved at that point, as would the Grand Admiral, since they control the budgets.”

  “And the Crown?” Judit homed in.

  “Her, as well, yes,” Vo said. “At least through her Chief of Deputies, Torsten Wald.”

  “Yes,” Judit observed. “The fiancé of Jessica Keller, who is currently out fighting the war for both nations, using forces supplied by both fleets. You had something in mind to further the war effort, zu Arlo?”

  “I was about nine hundred kilometers south of Werder on that day, Judit,” Vo let the emotion creep back into his voice. “I watched a new star being born, falling to earth, and killing a great many men and women I loved. The 189th Legion is going to go out there and repay Buran the courtesy. The Fribourg Fleet doesn’t really have anything like an Assault Carrier, using flotillas of cruiser-sized vessels when they need to land significant forces on a hostile, planetary surface. In the last generation, those have been mostly Imperial worlds in active rebellion, so nothing so concentrated was needed. An Assault Carrier lets me put an entire Legion on the surface in a day and a half, even reinforced, as the 189th is.”

  “So you would take the war to Buran? Personally?” she asked.

  “This is Alan Katche, Judit,” Vo turned and gestured. “He is my senior commander, but more importantly, his job title is Primus Pilus. First Spear. The man closest to the enemy. I don’t plan on doing to one of The Holding’s worlds what Jessica did to Thuringwell. She was intent on capturing one, and knew how to hit the diamond just right. We’re going to go blow things up and kill people. Assault Carriers make that much more likely to succeed.”

  “And my involvement?” she asked, slowly closing those steel jaws on his foot.

  “You control them,” Vo said. “Regardless of Iskra’s orders, you can override them, if you see the need. I studied Palatine authority extremely carefully before we invaded Thuringwell, Judit. Technically, the Senate would have to vote to revoke your authority, before they could subsequently vote to overrule you on something. Premier Horvat trusts you more than I imagined possible.”

  “I’ve known Tad for nearly thirty years, Vo,” she replied. “We double-date to the opera several times each season. I’m the godmother to one of his grandchildren. Yes, he trusts me. Why should I trust you?”

  “Annette Fuchs,” he said simply.

  It was pleasant, getting to watch her grow confused for a second, before enlightenment.

  “Walter’s daughter,” she breathed finally. “Your speech to the soul of the Empire itself. This is your revenge?”

  “And I have already dug two holes, Judit, as the ancients warned that you should do before setting out for vengeance.”

  “Tell me,” she asked, finally thinking she had caught his leg in the trap. “Would you escalate this to become an incident, if I said no?”

  “No,” Vo smiled like death at her. “You could make it easier for me. Your refusal would not stop us. Just slow us down. Nothing more. The only question now is when I will come calling, and who will be our first target. That we are coming for them is a given.”

  “I see,” she said.

  And she did. This woman had been in supreme command, back home, for nearly a decade. She knew how to deal with hard, dangerous men.

  But she smiled.

  “Let me have a conversation with your government, then,” she offered, still keeping her cards close to the vest. “I would like hear what they have to say on the topic.”

  Vo took that as a dismissal. He didn’t have anything else that needed to be covered here. And she hadn’t said yes or no.

  He and Alan were up and gone quickly after that. In the stairwell, Alan stopped him.

  “Depending on the number of bulk freighters available at the time, it would take me about three to five months to buy, requisition, or build the transports we would need, if they won’t go for it.”

  Vo nodded.

  “I don’t think she’ll refuse us,” Vo replied. “But I’ll let Casey and Torsten make that pitch to her.”

  Alan nodded back and they continued down.

  Karl VIII had staked her reign on the twin foundations of the 189th and his promise to the people of St. Legier and the wider Empire. She would support them. She’d better.

  And if Aquitaine wouldn’t, or Fribourg, then it might become a private venture, after all.

  Chapter LIV

  Date of the Republic Apr 0
2, 402 IFV Vanguard, Deep Space

  Jessica looked at all the faces projected into the air around the table of her flag bridge.

  Auberon had been big enough to pull all her command centurions and tactical officers together for a single meeting in the flesh, where it had helped forge them into a unit. IFV Vanguard, while far more dangerous and resilient than a Star Controller, was also significantly smaller, with a tiny flight deck. She would have had to send her few shuttles on a long path to pick everyone up, losing a day in the process.

  Time wasn’t that critical, but it also wasn’t for wasting.

  After a year of high risk/high rewards raids, Jessica’s team had honed their craft to something of an art. In the old days, you dropped out of JumpSpace a couple of light hours from an Imperial world and sniffed for gaps in their defenses. Maybe you raided, maybe you withdrew.

  Against Buran, it had been necessary to hide further out, down in the Oort cloud, or in the shadow of one of the frozen worldlets that orbited at that range, because the beings watching the heavens could be Sentient systems that might notice you occluding a single star or emitting a rogue radio or laser signal. Plus, at Trusski she had been more careful, picking the terrain she wanted to lure The Eldest’s warships into.

  Henry V at Agincourt, rather than Leonidas at Thermopylae or Horatio at the bridge.

  Here, the terrain was already set, so she would have to emulate Drake, raiding ports to stop the Spanish Armada.

  Again, there was time for patience. CP-406 had walked slowly towards the Severnaya Zemlya system from a starting distance of nearly one light year, pausing to sniff for any defensive ships hiding there in the dark, while Ballard watched from a distance.

  They would only get to do this once. Perhaps.

  Come in from the galactic south at seventy-three degrees, for no other reason than random deviation. Chaos, in the face of an orderly robot. Stay well away from the Postal Road that ran along the northern part of the primary galactic plane, where the stars were thinner and you were more likely to encounter other ships.