“Of course not. If we did that, the Star Forces and the Institute of Crests alike would swell to enormous size. It would indeed be far from the realm of the elegant.” Dusemh’s smile turned yet ghastlier. “That said, we cannot tolerate their open contempt. To be hated is of no concern to us, but to be slighted is another matter. It is not that the Empire isn’t capable of clamping down, it’s that it elects not to. In other words, teaching the terrestrial citizens that the Empire can hunt down those who do not submit at any time if it so chooses might just prove an entertaining diversion. Their initial scheme is likely to threaten the Empire. Is it not necessary to give them a dose of reality?”
“You Sporr!” said Ramynh gleefully. “I’ve always thought the family name of the Royal House of Barce isn’t Abliar, but Sporr. The way such devious ideas come to you.”
Lafier couldn’t stand it any longer. “Your Eminences , allow me to inform you that I am grateful to those people. I may even be rather fond of them. Their ways are different from our own, but they are proud folk in their own way. So, I implore you not to rebuke them...”
“This is a great example of how misunderstood we often are,” said Dusemh, spreading his besleeved arms wide. “Even our own relatives can misunderstand us. Such is the fruit of our lack of discretion. Fïac , I am saying that we very much ought to thank them.”
“Why do I get the feeling that tendency to be ‘misunderstood,’” grumbled Lamaudh, “is not so much the fruit of our indiscretions, but rather springs from what a certain royal family has assiduously built up?” But her derision fell on deaf ears.
“But Nisoth , we lack the authority to decide on such a plan,” Duradh pointed out.
“Then we should ask Her Majesty Lamagh to decide. It wouldn’t take much time at all, either. Kindly wait a moment, Your Eminences .”
Dusemh’s hologram disappeared. The projections of the other abdicants froze. Lafier could tell something was being discussed someplace she couldn’t overhear, but she had no choice but to stand in place and wait to be addressed.
At last, Dusemh returned. The holograms of the rest of the abdicants resumed moving, as though returning to life.
“Your Eminences ,” Lamagh intoned. There was no hologram of her, only her audio. “We heard tell of the issue from Nisoth Dusemr . We had been racking Our mind over a suitable token of gratitude toward the terrestrial citizens . As such, We thank Your Eminences for your wise counsel. We shall adopt the measure at once; in My name, it shall be arranged.”
“And so, with this, the matter is settled,” said Dusemh.
“So it is,” nodded Dugass, though his expression was fastidious. “Now the risk that the honor of the Abliars would be tarnished has cleared up.”
“I wasn’t aware patching up the mistakes of a trainee starpilot was a role of the Council of Abdicants ,” frowned Duradh.
“Is it not the duty of old birds to smooth over the little ones’ blunders?” Dusemh retorted.
“In any case, we must make our final decision. We have been discussing for five days, and we have no more questions for Fïac Lamhirr ,” said Dusum.
“Let us hear Your Eminences ’ opinions.”
“I hereby acknowledge that Fïac Lamhirr has the aptitude to be a starpilot .” With that, Ramynh’s hologram put his hands to his shoulders, and disappeared.
“I have no objections, either,” said Lamaudh, herself vanishing.
“Though I feel as though we’ve struck a tremendous blow to custom this day,” said Duradh, shaking his head and putting his hands to his shoulders, “I suppose there’s naught to be done about it.”
“I’m looking forward to your future. I know you’ll be able to overshadow my ignoble past,” said Ramlynh. Then she, too, disappeared.
“It’s as though I’m looking at my own daughter when she was small,” spoke Nisoth Lamaimer (Her Eminence Lamaimec), Lafier’s great-grandmother, for the first time in the meeting; perhaps she was not taking her position very seriously. “Be sure to pay me a visit before you receive another mission.”
“You truly look just like Her Majesty Lamagh. You may just be the one to take the throne after my son.” With that, Dusemh vanished.
“Let us meet again, little one. Though I hope that the next hearing will be easier on all of us,” said Dusum.
“Congratulations, linewing starpilot Abliar.” To round out the meeting, Dugass saluted her (albeit his salute was a little off) and vanished.
To the Abh, the concept of seasons was not linked to the time of year, but to the mood in the air. The Lartbéïc Crybr (Royal Palace of Crybh) had a garden for spring, summer, autumn, and winter, each with their ecosystem and temperature adjusted accordingly. Seated on a wooden bench in the autumn garden, Jinto counted the colored leaves dancing down.
“So that’s where you were.”
Jinto looked toward the voice. There stood Lafier. She was not in her military uniform . Rather, she was wearing a bright golden long robe over a green jumpsuit , with the graceful and florid circlet of a royal princess . In her arms, she held a kitten.
“Yeah. It’s the most calming place for me. Fïac Lartr Crybr told me to think of this place as my own home, but it’s really a bit too big to square with the concept I have in my head of ‘my own home.’”
Sure, it was small compared to the Imperial Palace , whose population once numbered over a million, but the Royal Palace of Crybh was an artificial planet in its own right. It was voluminous enough to house 50,000 people, and currently there were 10,000 who dwelt there in order to manage the Saudec Crybr (Crybh Gate) and the Royal Palace .
Lafier sat herself next to him. “Were you thinking about your territory-nations ?”
“Nah...” He was surprised himself: “I didn’t even look back at my home planets.”
“Not even a little?” Lafier looked shocked.
“Not really. For some reason, hearing that I’ve lost contact with my home, I just don’t feel sad at all. I’m actually relieved. Like a heavy burden’s been lifted... I’m an awful person, aren’t I?”
“I don’t know,” she said, confused. “Are you not worried about your father?”
“I thought I was worried about him, tried to convince myself I was, but I’ve come to realize that in my heart, I’m not... I mean, he’s bound to be fine. He was born and raised in Martinh, and he’s got experience and personal connections. If we survived Clasbule, he’s sure to...”
But he realized at that moment that that was a lie. Martinh’s ecosystem had arisen independently of Earth’s and was hostile to humans. Respect for the indigenous environment was drilled into Martinians from an early age. That meant that the only way his father could survive was by hiding in one of the planet’s hybrid structure buildings, but any serious manhunt would turn him up given how limited the space was. And worst of all, the greater part of the Martinian populace despised him.
In all likelihood, the Count of Hyde was no longer of this world.
Jinto changed the subject: “What’s with the cat?”
“He’s named ‘Dïahoc ’ (DIAHO). He’s the son of Zaneria, the daughter of Horia. Here you are, Diaho.” Lafier let go of the kitten on the chaise. “He was born while I was out doing navigation drills.”
Jinto recalled what “Horia” referred to: it was the name of the cat that Lafier had believed, when she was a wee lass, to be her mother.
“So that’d make you this cat’s aunt.”
“You onh !” That epithet again.
Jinto held his hand out, and Diaho seized upon it, rubbing his head against it. Lafier looked vexed, and, for whatever reason, saw fit to apologize for Diaho. “Despite being a cat, he hasn’t a stoic bone in his body. Zaneria was much the same.”
“It’s adorable, if you ask me.” Jinto tickled his throat.
“Tomorrow, you’ll be headed to the quartermasters’ academy , if I recall.”
“Yeah. Somebody’s coming to pick me up after breakfast. Since there’s a war on now, a
lot of kids got their date of entrance moved up, and it looks like I’ll just be another in the crowd. Thanks to that, I don’t have to worry about how I’ll be starting late in the year. That said, I’ll be living the life academic for three whole years. Please don’t feel down over it.” He transferred Diaho to his lap and faced Lafier. “How about you?”
“It’s still undecided which ship I’ll be on.” Lafier shook her head.
“Gotcha. Well, enjoy your moment of peace, I’d say. You’ll be spending your every day on the battlefield for a good clip.”
“Yeah.” Lafier nodded. “Three years... In three years, you’ll be a faictodaïc sazoïr (quartermaster linewing starpilot).”
“If everything goes smoothly, yeah.”
“By three years’ time, I will most likely have become a deca-commander , with the right to receive a small vessel, either an escort ship or an assault ship . Personally, I’d prefer an assault ship.”
“Right, right.” Jinto caressed Diaho’s scruff, wondering what she was trying to say.
“Each assault ship requires a quartermaster linewing starpilot to serve as a clerk . And... as per Star Forces tradition, a ship’s captain has some say in its personnel affairs. It’s far from set in stone, but if the captain and the officer agree on it, then it should come to pass,” she said, staring at him interrogatively.
Of course, Jinto understood what she expected from him. “O future Deca-commander Abliar,” said Jinto, putting on airs, “if at that time there should be a man named Faictodaïc Sazoïr Lin, you have but to call him by your side, and he will serve as your loyal clerk.”
“Okay.” Lafier’s face shone bright. “If you put it that way, I suppose I have no other choice. I do have my misgivings, mind you. It’s virtually set in stone that I will be a deca-commander in three years’ time; that means it’s up to you to be diligent and work your way up to being a quartermaster linewing pilot .”
“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry. I’ll expend every effort, Lafier.”
“All right, then, Jinto, we’ll see each other again at the supper table.” Lafier stood up forcefully. “I’m rather busy at the moment.”
“Hey! What about Diaho?” Jinto embraced the kitten in his arms.
“You’ve clearly taken a liking for him, so you ought to take him as your conversation partner. It’s not as though you haven’t the time.”
“Can’t say I’m as busy, no,” he said resignedly, putting him back on his lap. “You’re kind of a boring conversationalist, though.” Diaho responded by sniffing his fingers.
As he let the kitten entertain itself on his lap, Jinto ruminated. You’re as terrible a liar as ever, Lafier. But I’m happy I can spend more time by your side. I’ll age with time, and my lifespan is half yours at best. But I want to spend as much of my short life with you as possible. Whether you ascend to the Jade Throne or crumble to smithereens in a pocket of flat space , know that I’ll be there with you. I’ll see your destiny play out to the end, even if it displeases you. That is my will, the future I chose of my own volition. The value of one’s life is bought and determined by offering the freedom they were born with for sale. Ku Durin would probably wince and tell me it’s too early to sell, but something tells me an opportunity this sweet won’t come twice. After all, the buyer isn’t the Empire . It’s you, Lafier. You’ll never taste the thrill, understand the joy of selling your freedom. Members of the imperial family aren’t born with any.
Memories of the planet Martine’s Exotic Jungle floated to mind. It was the great new motherland of all Martinians. But now, he could only think of it as a foreign landscape, compared to the sea of gereulach (stars).
“Hey, Diaho. Tell me: who am I? What am I?”
The kitty meowed.
Epilogue
At Ralbrybh Naval Station , on the Commander’s Bridge of the flagship of the reconnaissance half-fleet the Ftuné , the patrol ship Hairbyrch ...
“You’re taking the Ftuné away from me!?” Sporr cried.
“Somebody with the rank of commodore serving as a half-fleet commander is an exception to the norm to begin with,” said the hologram of Glaharérh Chtymer (Naval Base Commander-in-Chief), Spénec Laburer (Star Forces Admiral) Uneuch (OONYOOSH), with an air of patience. “As you’re aware, our ships were greatly depleted in number after the engagement three years ago. Now, the array of battle is finally in order. We will be having you head up a full fleet , under the wing of Fofraudéc (Grand Commodore) Tlife.”
“And that fleet would be?” Sporr was not coy about her disaffection.
“It hasn’t yet been organized. We will make you Roïglaharérh Chtymer (Naval Base Vice Commander-in-chief) for the time being, but it won’t be for long. That’s because the time the enemy will be forced to recall the existence of the Imperial Star Forces fast approaches.”
“Has the ship I’ll be on been decided? I’m quite fond of the Hairbyrch , myself...”
“It won’t be the Hairbyrch . That’s the flagship of the Ftuné . Assign it to a successor.”
Her eyebrows of flowing scarlet-blue bristled.
“And that’s that,” said Uneuch, hastily. “Your appointment will come into effect in three days. I’d like you to set your personal affairs straight by then. I’m willing to discuss personnel matters at the new Headquarters as well. Now allow me to take my leave. And congratulations, Commodore Sporr.”
Hurriedly, the Commander-in-chief ‘s hologram vanished. Sporr continued to glare at a hologram that was no longer there.
“‘Congratulations’!? Does he think I WANT a promotion? I’m already a Grand Duchess !”
Having overheard their exchange, Cfadiss was relieved. Sporr had been difficult to work for. He thought it’d take at most three years to grow used to it, but that had been wishful thinking. She was incorrigibly self-indulgent, capricious, and worst of all, an incredibly capable commander despite that!
Cfadiss could see it now. A slightly more manageable commander to take her place. That would be nice.
“And what do you look so happy about, Senior Staff Officer ?” Cfadiss snapped to, to find Sporr staring daggers at him.
“Ah! I... I’m not,” said Cfadiss, stiffening his face.
“Oh? But I’m happy that you’re happy... so you’d better hurry and set your affairs in order, too.”
“Huh? How come?” he said, dumbfounded.
“You heard what the man said. He’ll hear me out with regard to the personnel affairs of the new Headquarters . And you’re the new Chief of Staff !”
“Please, hold on,” he said, dismayed. “I’m a hecto-commander . My rank isn’t high enough.”
“I think it’s high time you get your promotion. In fact, I’ll back your promotion. Why, I myself have just been promoted, so I simply must share this pleasure with my subordinates. Congratulations, Kilo-commander Cfadiss.”
“I’m beside myself with gratitude, but...”
“Does something about this inconvenience you?” she prodded, folding her arms.
“No, ma’am. It’s a stupendous honor. Thank you very much,” he said, his hand forced.
“You’re welcome.” She had an announcement for the other personnel on the bridge as well. “Everybody will rise up the ranks. I’m taking you all with me!”
Amidst the whole of the commander’s bridge cheering with jubilation, Cfadiss alone heaved a deep sigh.
In flat space , in a room in an isadh saura (lightweight transport freighter) named Clasepyr (CLASBULE) in transit near Saudec Matmatsocna Cloharr (Gate 229 of Cloha).
“This isn’t the kind of aboard-ship lifestyle I had in mind,” lamented Marca.
“No two ways about it,” said Undertaker.
“Here I am, having left my beloved husband and child to see deep space, only to have to do the Empire ‘s bidding and help haul their cargo. Why, I ask you?”
“Can’t be helped,” said Undertaker.
“And it’s not like we’re actually the ones doing the hauling, eith
er,” said Bill, gulping down some booze. “It’s an Abh who’s piloting. Besides loading whatever cargo the Empire wants us to, all we can be said to be doing is drinking thusly, and watching our savings pile up.”
“No other option,” said Undertaker.
“Well, it helps to think of it as accumulating funds for the Clasbule Secession War to come.” Min took another sip of drink. “And the Empire ‘s helping us do it. It amuses me.”
“Oh, it amuses you, does it?” snapped Bill. “We can’t even return to Clasbule. We’re too famous there. I can hear the sarcasm now: ‘Ceucec reucer (sir gentry), I’m so terribly sorry to have to ask this of you, but could ya take 10 üésboc of pork shoulder into the next town over?’”
“Can’t do a thing about it,” said Undertaker.
“Well, I’m fairly satisfied with this arrangement. We can see different worlds. We can use these travels as reference for the independence effort. In any case, I say we should bide our time until the war’s over. When it ends, this ship’s destination will be freed up.”
“You want us to wait until the war’s over!?” Marca held her hands up in shock. “When’s it going to end? It hasn’t even really started yet!”
“It is what it is,” said Undertaker.
“I swear...” Bill looked Daswani’s way. “Hey, can you use your skills to take over this ship’s computing crystals ? Let’s get this thing in human hands.”
The hulking man shook his head silently.
“What the hell do we even do with ourselves!?”
“Oh well, nothing for it.”
“Undertaker,” said Marca, glaring at her comrade, “do you have anything else to add?”
Undertaker looked at her with eyes drowsy from drink. “Did I ever tell you about the guy who jumped into a bunch of thorns?”
“Oh yes, Undertaker. Hundreds of times.”
In the Sfagnoff Marquessate , at the Lune Beega Municipal Police Agency building on the planet of Clasbule...
“The election results are in!” said a subordinate who came barging in.
Entryua looked up from the screen on his work desk. The officer didn’t have to say a word; Entryua could tell from that look. Yet Entryua was forced to ask anyway.
The Return to Strange Skies (JNC Edition) Page 19
