by Blaze Ward
Pigeons facing the hawks of Imperial Security, of Section Eleven.
The midnight knock coming at dawn instead.
Sigmund sipped his coffee and fought the urge to preen.
Only villains in bad videos cackled aloud, but Sigmund finally understood the desire, the urge. That rising force of excitement demanding that he bubble over with evil glee.
Mad scientists always failed.
He was an Admiral, and a Prince of the Blood. Calm, rational, prepared.
A chime sounded on his computer, the first alert coming in on the secured channel he shared with the creatures of Section Eleven, Imperial Security.
Wachturm Mansion secured. All accounted for.
Lovely.
Emmerich Wachturm had been Sigmund’s greatest fear. The man was utterly loyal, but was that loyalty to the throne or the inhabitant? Best to remove him from the game board first, so that the Red Admiral didn’t have the opportunity to escape and rally other forces to Karl’s side later.
Revolutions got messy when emotions got involved with what should be rational discussions.
News One secured. Prepared broadcasts on loop on all channels. All citizen ordered to curfew.
Marvelous. The beginning of his reign as Emperor was clear now.
People would awaken in a new world from the one where they had gone to bed. They would slowly ignore the curfew and begin to gather in public places, or rally in small, familial clusters. Churches would overflow with confused cattle. But nothing would come of it.
Imperial Security had predicted as much.
And it wasn’t like he was planning on actually shooting anyone. The troops on the corners in their armoured vehicles were there to reinforce the change, and remind people that he retained the monopoly on force.
Karl and his family would be put on trial, facing trumped up charges of treason and secretly conspiring with Buran, everything Sigmund was doing, in fact. This afternoon’s demonstration would just hammer the point home, and make Sigmund a hero as defender of the realm when Karl’s supposed allies turned on him with the whole Empire watching.
And then the Imperial family would be found guilty and sentenced to death. Emperor Sigmund would commute that to exile, a safe, quiet place, far from the halls of power, where their sudden and accidental demise later could be kept quiet. There would be no blood on his hands.
Directly.
Thus are revolutions successful.
The most important message was late. The critical one. That thing that would cost Sigmund his life, if it went wrong.
A chirp finally signaled success.
Imperial Family secure. Princess Kasimira unaccounted for.
The artist? How could they miss one seventeen-year-old girl? This was the Imperial palace. It was not possible that Kasimira could simply vanish.
Still, how much damage could a child like that do, in the face of everything he had assembled?
CHAPTER XL
DATE OF THE REPUBLIC NOVEMBER 8, 398 ABOARD KALI-MA, ABOVE ST. LEGIER
Corynthe had always been a poor nation. Jessica knew that. Children frequently grew up with bad nutrition that resulted in them being stunted compared to places like Aquitaine, or even Lincolnshire.
This morning, standing on the deck, Casey rammed that point home without even trying.
Jessica was slightly shorter than average for a woman of the Republic. Rocket Frog and Neon Pink were absolutely tiny by any standard. Many of the men were barely taller than Jessica. Eel was probably the tallest man in the flight squadron, and Casey had at least a centimeter on Gustav. Only Wiley and Yan were taller in the room, excepting Marcelle.
Still, the young woman was all smiles, slathering the charm on everyone and asking pointed, intelligent questions as she shared coffee with the flight squadron and several members of Wiley’s command staff. She seemed especially smitten by the twins, but that was to be expected.
They represented everything Casey could never have.
A sound brought everyone to utter silence. Probably the last sound that Jessica had expected to hear in orbit of St. Legier.
The ascending triple-note reserved for emergency communications. Loud enough to be heard over any sound, even in Engineering.
“Command Centurion to the bridge,” the Watch Officer’s voice calmly filled the ready room, the entire vessel. “All hands, stand by for battle stations.”
Jessica took two steps at a dead sprint before her brain stopped her. The pilots and bridge crew were all in motion. Casey would have no idea what she was supposed to do.
Jessica turned to find Marcelle close to the princess, pointing her in the right direction.
“This way, Casey,” Jessica said, waiting for the young woman to nod.
Casey blinked in shock, and then processed everything and began to move.
The corridor was largely empty, Wiley and her people already well ahead, with the pilots racing aft to their locker room to dive into their flight suits and climb aboard their combat chariots.
It made for quick going for Jessica to get to the bridge and badge herself and Casey through the secured hatch.
Inside, everything had faded from that immediate surge of chaos to the hum of a well-trained team. Wiley and Yan had dropped into their stations, evicting the younger officers who had been earning their ratings two minutes ago.
A projection dominated the middle of the room, the man speaking in stern tones.
“The government of the traitor, Karl VII, has been overthrown and the Emperor and his suite arrested. Admiral of the White Sigmund Dittmar, His Imperial Highness and a loyal prince of the blood, has been chosen to assume the throne in his place. The Imperial Navy has acted to overthrow the treasonous government before their evil conspiracy could unfold. They have taken control of all of Werder, while saboteurs and dissidents are rounded up for the good of the state. The Navy has declared a curfew on all civilian traffic and all citizens are required to remain at home for the next twenty-four hours under penalty of law. Stay tuned to this channel. More information will be made available at a later time.”
Casey had gone white. Jessica was seeing red. Wiley looked angry enough to actually chew nails.
“Orders, Admiral?” Yan asked, breaking the tableau.
Jessica took a moment to draw a heavy breath. There was nothing in her planning catalog for something, anything, like this. Nowhere.
Not in her wildest dreams.
Damn them.
Dittmar in charge would probably mean an abrogation of the treaty as fast as he thought he could send the official word to Ladaux. And the fool probably had no idea how fragile that frontier was.
For a moment, Jessica considered blasting for deep space immediately, confident that diplomatic protocol would keep Desianna, Moirrey, and Vo safe from harm until they could be rescued or traded back.
Jessica could be back on station with Auberon and her squadron almost as fast as Fribourg could do anything. Poised for the next pearl on the string, the next rabbit to be swallowed.
The next Imperial target.
There was only one fly in that ointment.
What to do with an Imperial Princess who might be one step from being declared a homeless refugee?
“What’s the chatter on Imperial frequencies?” Jessica asked.
They hadn’t broken any Imperial codes, but not everything sent would be encrypted. Some signals would be in the clear, bouncing off stations, ships, or even the atmosphere. Questions. Comments. Dirty jokes. If you listened close enough, there was always a soft undertone of emotion floating on radio waves, just in the voices alone.
You could learn a great deal, without even understanding the words themselves.
Himura, the comm officer, had been listening intently with one ear.
“Fleet’s freaking out, but nobody has given them any orders, other than to maintain their current patrol patterns and be on the lookout for spies and saboteurs,” Himura called, looking up for his console to fix
Jessica with his stare.
“In other words,” Jessica replied sharply. “This originated with the Security Bureau and their people, and the Navy was caught with their pants down?”
“That’d be my guess, boss,” Himura said.
“If anyone hails us, there is no mention of the Princess,” Wiley interjected. “Nothing. Nobody. Nowhere. Am I clear?”
The whole bridge rang out on that one.
“Any noise from the Army?” Jessica continued.
The 189th Division was represented by a score of men, but there were thirty or forty full divisions of troopers available on the ground, both as garrison, and in barracks.
“They’ve gone stone cold, Admiral,” Himura said. “Nothing on any frequency and nobody even answering the Fleet boys.”
So. A coup d’état. Bloodless surprise, so far, but things like this were never completely innocent.
“All hands to battle stations,” Jessica said finally. “Flight wing, get loaded and ready to launch on command, but remain locked on for sudden maneuvering.”
Lights on Wiley’s console began to go green almost immediately. Everyone had just been waiting for that command. A good crew.
But what could they do, sitting in the middle of an entire Imperial Fleet, flying in the shadow of their main orbital base?
“Admiral, I have a ground signal,” Himura called suddenly. “Stand by. Go ahead Arlo, you’re on bridge comm.”
“Roger that,” Vo’s voice cracked slightly with distortion. “Fleet Centurion, this is Arlo. No doubt you’ve heard the news by now. We have a situation on the ground. Desianna was arrested this morning. Moirrey has gone into hiding. I’m moving to get her with my team now.”
Arrested?
Jessica felt her teeth grind until she stopped.
“Understood. Stand by, Vo,” Jessica replied. “In fact, we’ll call you back in ten minutes. Move in case they are tracking your signals.”
“Acknowledged.”
One did not arrest foreign diplomats under immunity and invitation. Not unless you wanted a war with Jessica Keller. Dittmar was seriously pushing his luck.
Jessica considered some of Moirrey’s opinions of the man who would be Emperor.
She had stopped being just a witness to history.
“Yan,” Jessica ordered. “Drop us back out of range of the station’s big guns, but do it slowly and make it look like poor ship handling on our part.”
“Roger that, Admiral,” Yan replied, furiously typing into his console. “Pilot, execute this flight deviation.”
“Yes, sir,” the pilot replied.
Jessica ignored the men. Yan was a consummate professional and could handle his tasks without supervision. She gathered Casey and Wiley and moved to the rear of the bridge, where they could talk quietly.
“Casey, I can’t return you to the surface in the current situation,” Jessica said. “I have no idea what your reception would be.”
“I would most likely be executed, along with my family, Jessica,” Casey said flatly, her face a hard rictus. “If Dittmar fails in this, that will be his punishment. I can’t imagine anything less for me.”
“Someone will figure out where you are, soon enough,” Wiley said. “There will be signals, notes, logs.”
“I’m aware of that as well, Command Centurion,” Casey replied.
Jessica could see the anger and pain in the young woman’s eyes.
“I have two options at this point,” the Princess continued, her voice threatening to break. “I can flee and ask for refuge with Aquitaine. Or I can fight.”
Something changed in the girl’s voice as she spoke.
Jessica remembered the moment she first ordered Moirrey to break every law imaginable, and possibly commit treason against the entire human species, orbiting above Ballard. Something had bled out of Moirrey’s soul at that moment, replaced by a hard, quiet energy that had never dimmed since.
In Moirrey’s case, it had been growing up as trial by fire. Perhaps Jessica was watching the same thing happen before her eyes.
“Fight?” Jessica challenged. “With what?”
“If my father has been deposed,” Casey’s voice ground harshly across the words. “Then my brother would replace him as Emperor. Failing that, my older sister. They might all be dead right now. Had I been there this morning, I would probably be dead as well, or on my way there now. If they have all been taken, then I am the next in line to ascend the throne.”
“You?” Jessica asked sharply.
There had never been a ruling Empress. Older daughters had been stepped over for sons, from even before King Gunter became the first Emperor.
Casey stopped and drew a harsh breath. Her shoulders flexed down in way that reminded Jessica of drawing all the anger into her belly, compressing it, before facing the fighting robot.
Fire diamonds.
“Madam Keller,” Casey, the Imperial Princess-nee-Emperor of Fribourg began in a dark tone. “I must ask one favor of you before I can release you to seek your own safety.”
“Madam?” Jessica asked. “Don’t you mean Wildgraf?”
“No,” Casey replied firmly, drawing herself back up to that amazing height of her family. “Madam Keller. A Wildgraf would be required to become personally involved in this situation. That would be unacceptable for you, and either of your governments. This is a Fribourg task, and must be handled as such.”
Moirrey had turned into a grown-up in those few, precious seconds. Jessica wouldn’t have recognized it now, had she not watched then.
A young girl had joined her on this bridge, all of five minutes ago.
An Emperor had just replaced her.
“How can I help?” Jessica asked with a nod, recognizing the fury and terror at war with each other in Casey’s eyes.
“Not all of the Fleet will have gone over. At least not quickly. They will, eventually, given time,” Casey said. “I need to make it to friendly forces before I declare myself. Otherwise, I can simply be arrested and disappeared.”
“But will they take orders from a woman? Even a woman Emperor?” Wiley asked bluntly, but warmly.
Alone, of perhaps everyone in the entire planetary system, only Wiley could ask that question, understanding what it meant to be first.
Casey’s chin came up sharply. Her shoulders came back. A fire took root in those bright, blue eyes.
She turned to Jessica with a snarl.
“What was it you said before the Battle of Petron? To the assembled Captains?” Casey asked. “I will have their oaths, or I will have their souls.”
Not quite the words Jessica remembered speaking, but close enough. And it would convey to those men out there the seriousness of the situation.
They could honor their oaths to the crown, or their allegiance to power. But not both.
Not with Casey. Never with Casey.
Jessica smiled secretly, in the deepest parts of her soul, where the goddess Kali-ma still danced.
Something like this might tear the Empire apart.
Either a usurper would hold the throne, driving fragments of chaos into the population, or a woman would ascend, unraveling all the power of male chauvinists to their prerogatives.
Some of Jessica’s wildest dreams were suddenly much closer to fruition. And there was nobody she could tell, even whisper it to, until she saw Nils Kasum again.
“So, who can we trust?” Wiley asked in a voice gone hard and tactical.
Jessica fought her attention back to the present.
She could dream evil dreams later.
“If you went to the effort to launch a palace coup this detailed, this extensive, would you let Emmerich Wachturm run around loose?” Jessica asked back.
“The Red Admiral?” Wiley smiled conspiratorially. “Hell, no. I’d nail him down first. He’s more dangerous than any Emperor.”
“Agreed,” Jessica said. “The man’s loyal. Everyone knows that. Everyone. That means his people are as well.”
&
nbsp; “So where does that leave us? Right here, right now?” Casey asked sharply.
“Well, Princess,” Jessica stammered. “Uhm, Emperor…”
“Please, call me Casey,” the young woman said. “There will be enough time for Emperor later.”
“Casey,” Jessica nodded. “I know a place that should be safe for you while we sort things out.”
“Where?”
“IFV Amsel,” Jessica replied. “The Blackbird.”
“But she’s not here,” Casey countered, confused.
“She is,” Jessica said. “Captain Saar was planning to arrive in-system Friday morning, without any fanfare, and prepare for a formal commissioning ceremony next Thursday for your cousin’s wedding.”
“Can we trust him?” Casey asked tightly.
Jessica could still see the young girl, the artist, carefully hidden underneath, peeking out as if from under the blankets during a frightening storm.
“If you cannot trust Rafferty Saar, the Red Admiral’s hand-picked man,” Jessica said with funereal tones, “then there is absolutely nothing you can do here but flee into the wilderness like a princess in a fairy tale.”
“I’ll die fighting first,” Casey growled defiantly.
Jessica nodded. Not necessarily the most intelligent move, considering the odds, but the correct emotional response. As with the crown of Corynthe that day, this would be for everything.
“Comm Officer,” Jessica called out over the entire bridge. “Ping IFV Amsel quietly and ask Captain Saar for a secured channel.”
“Aye-aye, Admiral,” the man replied.
“Will it work?” Casey asked.
“Is there a choice?” Jessica replied.
“No,” Casey’s tone was subdued. “Thank you.”
Jessica nodded in understanding. What was it about Jessica Keller that caused the men of the Fribourg Empire to act insane when she was around?
And what would a female Emperor do to them?
Jessica could only hope.
“Imperial Captain Saar on channel six, standing by, Admiral,” Himura called out. “Three second lag on signal.”
Jessica took Casey by the hand and guided her to a spot near Wiley’s console. Close enough to listen, but out of sight of the video pickup.
