Persephone
Page 15
“Oh, I’m sure you could,” Granville laughed. “But then we’d probably turn into warlords or something after we embarrassed too many of them. They’d have to make us kings or something.”
“Challenge Accepted. Granville Veitengruber,” Deni’s eyes lit up with fierce, merry daring.
“So what do we do for money?” Granville let pedestrian worries bubble up, with the big things seemingly settled.
“Demand back wages from the Emperor, plus hazard pay,” Deni’s laughter would not be denied. “Plus, you’ve been a Republican officer for a while, so they owe you money there. I’ve been a deck hound, so we’ll throw that in there. And demand a share of money when they sell Persephone. According to rumor, the commander is due cash when they pay off a captured ship.”
“You’ve given this too much thought,” Granville accused him.
“I have had nothing else to occupy me,” Deni turned serious. “Except to worry about you every time you went out. Whether or not you’d come back to me.”
“Always,” Granville said. “I will never let anything keep us apart now. If I have to move Heaven and Empire to do it.”
“Good,” Deni said, turning and sliding into the bunk. “Let’s go to bed and celebrate a new beginning.”
Granville rose and touched the hull above him once for luck, a thing that every fighter pilot did when they were getting ready for combat.
Except his wars were done. Persephone had brought him and all the others home.
Now he could be free.
Resolute (April 12, 403)
Lan found himself crying. But that was acceptable, as Kiel was, as well.
Director Kosnett appeared to be close to tears, as did Ground Control Lau, Lady Blackbeard Skokomish, and the indomitable Stunt Dude.
Lan turned his face away from his companions and stared through the big viewport at the tiny vessel, parked carefully near the dock in a slot that would have held Packmule comfortably.
He had spent enough years in space to understand that the tininess was only relative, at this distance. The ship was at least thirty percent again larger than Resolute Revolution had been. And brand new.
Director Kosnett had indeed been required to sell their old vessel, but the Imperial bureaucrat had not raised too much of a stink at the price demanded, which still appeared, at least to Lan, to have been utterly outrageous, for a battered freighter verging on three generations old.
But they had also appraised it purely on tonnage, and then counted it as a captured warship, because there was a stolen gun mounted on the front of the cargo deck. The price was good enough to replace Resolute Revolution with a bigger, better vessel. One that had two large cabins and four small ones, so he and Kiel could transport passengers between the stars, and not just tuna steaks.
And it contained that most magical of inventions, unknown back home: A JumpSail. Along with a complete set of spare parts and instructions, good enough to last them for probably twenty years without visiting an Imperial starport for repairs.
Not that Lan intended to wait that long.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, feeling Kiel take his hand and squeeze it.
Director Kosnett had promised to make them whole. It was a legal term, and the vessel before them was half of that promise delivered. And as Lan watched, a small tug was slowly backing itself up to the aft ramp to deliver a load of cargo in standard shipping containers, homemade to Holding dimensions.
The two of them turned to the teary-eyed comrades of the last year, and the one fearsome man who was the terrible overlord of this station, Supreme Director Provst.
Kiel had always been the better communicator. It was why Lan let her negotiate deals.
But words failed them both, today.
“Thank you,” she finally managed. “A year ago, we doubted.”
“A year ago, so did I,” Director Kosnett replied in just as emotional a voice. “But for your help, your understanding, none of this would have been possible. But for your standards, it would not have turned out the same.”
“Our standards?” Lan asked.
The man nodded, at once crisp and fierce.
“At each station,” Kosnett said, “at each decision, I was reminded that there were more options than simply violence. With Doctor Au, she finally became convinced that she might serve evil, simply by not questioning the will of a God, regardless of its orders. As one does not. Yours was the ethical standard that infected all of us, not to worship or fear that god, in turn, but to treat one another as humans, and to remember that our humanity stretched across the boundaries of culture that separate us. We retained the moral and ethical high ground by never ceding it. Never cutting corners and allowing our baser natures to run free. For that, I thank you. As does my crew.”
Lan sniffled. As did Kiel. And several others. Even terrible Warlord Provst appeared moved to something approaching humanity at the words.
“And now?” Lan asked.
“Now you will return home,” Admiral Provst said simply. “We have tuned your new vessel to the highest standards possible, and are loading it with cargo, but you will become the enemy again soon. My crew will board to fly you to the edge of the planetary system, and then debark so you can return to Buran space. I will not say you are welcome to return here, as I consider you enemies of my nation and my Emperor, but I will also issue instructions to the locals to treat you as a neutral vessel, if you call again. And I speak with the voice of the Grand Admiral himself, and Jessica Keller.”
Lan supposed that would have to do. There were no other neutrals here at Osynth B'Udan, being a system almost as reinforced as Samara supposedly was, perhaps more so with this fierce man’s force currently in residence, and facing The Holding across a hostile band of space.
And it was entirely possible that the Scholars would confiscate this vessel and its cargo when they returned to Holding space. If they did. Perhaps they would trade here as neutrals for a while.
He could only hope that the crew of the released medical cruiser, the former RAN Forgotten Mercy, would get home first, and explain everything well enough to whatever officious prick happened to be on duty when the vessel docked.
Lan bowed to the terrible Director as one would a Minister of the Eighth Rank. Formal and official. He felt Kiel do the same.
For Kosnett, the bow was deeper, and more heart-felt.
Who could have imagined?
“What will you call her?” Director Kosnett asked, curious.
Lan turned to Kiel and shared a wondrously evil smile.
“We had considered several names,” Kiel answered with glee. “Things like 405, or Queen Anne’s Revenge, or perhaps even Kosnett were entirely inappropriate, to say nothing of the security troubles if we called it Mansi. In the end, one name struck us as the perfect way to remember our time with you, and the possibility of finding truth and honor among the barbarians. As we did with our friends.”
“Indeed?” Kosnett’s wry smile spoke volumes.
“Indeed,” Kiel agreed. “We will call the vessel Lighthouse, for all the obvious as well as the subtle meanings that only those of us who were there would know.”
Kosnett surprised them with a second bow, as deep as they had given him.
“I will let Bok and Avelina know,” he said. “They will appreciate the joke.”
Lan grinned at the thought of Duke Avelina of Lighthouse. The young woman was perfect for the role.
And perhaps someday, he would go and see if he could find the planet. Lan had no doubt that it had only temporarily been abandoned, and that Keller and Provst would likely return there.
He would remember to pack a case of good wine, and maybe a cargo hold filled with grapevines for planting.
That cowboy, Bok Battenhouse, would appreciate that.
Read More!
Be sure to read all three of the CS-405 books!
Queen Anne’s Revenge
Packmule
Persephone
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About the Author
Blaze Ward writes science fiction in the Alexandria Station universe (Jessica Keller, The Science Officer, The Story Road, etc.) as well as several other science fiction universes, such as Star Dragon, the Collective, and more. He also writes odd bits of high fantasy with swords and orcs. In addition, he is the Editor and Publisher of Boundary Shock Quarterly Magazine. You can find out more at his website www.blazeward.com, as well as Facebook, Goodreads, and other places.
Blaze's works are available as ebooks, paper, and audio, and can be found at a variety of online vendors (Kobo, Amazon, and others). His newsletter comes out quarterly, and you can also follow his blog on his website. He really enjoys interacting with fans, and looks forward to any and all questions—even ones about his books!
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Also by Blaze Ward
The Jessica Keller Chronicles
Auberon
Queen of the Pirates
Last of the Immortals
Goddess of War
Flight of the Blackbird
The Red Admiral
St. Legier
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CS-405
Queen Anne’s Revenge
Packmule
Persephone
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Additional Alexandria Station Stories
The Story Road
Siren
Two Bottles of Wine with a War God
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The Science Officer Series
The Science Officer
The Mind Field
The Gilded Cage
The Pleasure Dome
The Doomsday Vault
The Last Flagship
The Hammerfield Gambit
The Hammerfield Payoff
* * *
Doyle Iwakuma Stories
The Librarian
Demigod
Greater Than The Gods Intended
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Other Science Fiction Stories
Myrmidons
Moonshot
Menelaus
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Earthquake Gun
Moscow Gold
* * *
Fairchild
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White Crane
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The Collective Universe
The Shipwrecked Mermaid
Imposters
About Knotted Road Press
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Persephone
CS-405: Book Three
Blaze Ward
Copyright © 2019 Blaze Ward
All rights reserved
Published by Knotted Road Press
www.KnottedRoadPress.com
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ISBN: 978-1-64470-028-0
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Cover art:
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Cover and interior design © 2019 Knotted Road Press
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This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental. This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.