Petron

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by Blaze Ward


  “Centurion Velazquez, I am handing you a tablet with the contents of said packet loaded. Specifically, a transcript of an interview purporting to be by two men hired to assassinate Arlo at Petron. Do you acknowledge this document?”

  She had gone cagey, as she should. This was legal courtroom stuff.

  Career defining.

  Andrea began to scan the document quickly. Phil had left it open to the juicy parts. He could tell when she got there by the gasp that came out of her mouth and the way her head flew up and her eyes grew angry.

  “I acknowledge receipt of the tablet,” Andrea finally said carefully. “Presuming the chain of custody is intact and reproducible, I have become aware of certain parts highlighted by Fleet Centurion Kosnett, without yet having a chance to review the entirety of the docket to my own satisfaction.”

  “Thank you,” Phil said. “Command Centurion Križ and Flag Centurion Maisuradze, do you remember the specific threat from General zu Arlo that he would attack the Hemera system and lay waste to all defenses if my task force departed the system without his permission?”

  “I do,” Bohumil said.

  “Acknowledged, Fleet Centurion,” Paskal said.

  “Centurion Velazquez, I will now order you to verify this information packet to your satisfaction,” Phil said. “At such time, you will depart from RAN Cyrus with a small marine escort to protect yourself and your diplomatic pouch, aboard a fast courier that I will cause to be put under your command. You will return to Fleet Headquarters at Ladaux with said packet, under a cover letter I will supply to you. You will place this information directly into the hands of the First Lord of the Aquitaine Fleet, or her designated Agent, who will not be a civilian. Once the First Lord has reviewed this information, you will place yourself at her discretion. Am I clear in these orders, Centurion?”

  Andrea had been furiously scrolling through the rest of the tablet, cracking open files to glance at them and noting the interview itself.

  “These orders are clear, Fleet Centurion,” she finally said, acknowledging his words without accepting them at face value. “I note the offer to make the accusers available to a Republic officer for interview. Is it within my scope of independence to board the Imperial Flagship for the purposes of confirming this story directly?”

  “It is, Centurion,” Phil said, relieved that she had taken the obvious first step that her legal training demanded.

  This situation would either make her career with the Navy, or break her out of service quickly. He didn’t think she would quail before the challenge, but it had to be her decision.

  “I will require a second, impeccable witness, Fleet Centurion,” Andrea used a tone of a superior officer addressing a wet-behind-the-ears Cornet, but she was absolutely within her rights to do so. That was where Arlo had taken them now, and that man was probably well aware of that.

  Whether he was laughing at them, out there in the darkness, was an entirely unrelated thing.

  “I would suggest you take two, Centurion,” Phil offered carefully. “Centurion Paskal Maisuradze as my Flag Centurion, and another of your choice, the latter of whom I presume will then accompany you to Ladaux.”

  “I find this acceptable, Fleet Centurion,” this young woman said to him sternly. “You will make arrangements with System authorities for my transport and contact the Imperial flagship so that I may rendezvous with them at their current location. I am now ending this recording, for the purposes of briefing other officers in the duties that I will require from them in the near future.”

  She nodded at Phil and he cut the recorder. Both of them blew heavy breaths out in unison. They would have probably smiled at that, but this was too narrow of a tightrope.

  He turned to Bohumil and felt his smile turn into almost a grimace.

  “How bad is it?” she asked in a serious tone, cognizant that she still might have to arrest Phil on his own deck.

  “I’ve been through the entire thing twice, Bohumil,” he said. “Arlo makes a pretty good case that we did it.”

  “We?” she asked. “We who?”

  “Judit Chavarría, the personal representative of Senate Premier Tadej Horvat, stands accused by the man of personally recruiting the assassin, detailing the mission, and paying a team to help kill Imperial General zu Arlo in the middle of Jessica’s wedding celebrations at Petron. Somehow, the two were taken alive, and have rolled over to testify.”

  The other two gasped now.

  “Now what?” Bohumil asked in a much quieter voice.

  “Now, we test Arlo’s word by sending Andrea out there to talk to him and his prisoners,” Phil said. “And I have to weigh his threat to come down here with an entire battle fleet and destroy Hemera’s orbital defenses if I order the task force to leave, which orders I’m pretty sure are waiting for us back at the station. This is where it gets tricky.”

  “Why is that?” she asked.

  “I’m pretty sure those orders involve the squadron crossing the Imperial border for our next raid, as a way of preventing that very fleet out there from getting back to the Imperial capital,” Phil said. “All the maneuver orders I have been receiving to date have been counter-signed by Judit Chavarría. If Arlo’s right, she’s part of a massive conspiracy to restart the war on very thin and possibly illegal pretexts, Bohumil.”

  “Where does that leave me?” the Command Centurion asked, sitting up straighter.

  “It may be your responsibility to remove me from command, Command Centurion Križ,” Phil said, watching the other two flinch now. “Our JAG officer or her remaining agent after she leaves may indeed have to order you to arrest me if I refuse to follow such orders.”

  He turned to Andrea and felt his spine harden.

  “This case is now in your hands, Centurion,” Phil ordered her. “You will take charge of the investigation and detail to the rest of us your needs as you proceed.”

  Andrea swallowed, probably past a closed throat, and stood.

  “I will let you know my needs, Fleet Centurion,” she nodded. “This meeting is dismissed.”

  Bohumil rose unsteadily. Paskal sat there for several seconds before his brain caught up and he rose as well, eventually leaving Phil alone in his office.

  After all those wild adventures against Buran in the Altai sector, pushing the letter of his responsibilities and Keller’s various standing orders, Phil wondered if this was what mutiny finally tasted like.

  CHAPTER XLV

  IN THE TWELFTH YEAR OF JESSICA KELLER, QUEEN OF THE PIRATES: JUNE THE SEVENTEENTH AT ST. LEGIER

  JESSICA NORMALLY APPRECIATED the uniform she wore when she impersonated an Imperial Admiral, but today it had felt constricting. She still wore the jacket for this ceremony, because that was what today was all about. Ceremony.

  She and Em had grabbed Ralf and boarded the old warship IFV Archangelsk, shortly to be reflagged as a Corynthe Escort. Jessica smiled as she strode the corridors from the flight deck to the bridge. Archangelsk was a Capital-class battlecruiser, sister to IFV Muscva that Jessica’s forces had destroyed at First Qui Ping, so many years ago when she began her duel with the Red Admiral of terrible legend.

  And survived.

  Ralf had understood the reference of returning to the beginning when Em mentioned it, but it wasn’t a visceral thing with him. Just another note to file away.

  No, only she and Em would get it.

  And Ralf had not minded losing this portion of his defensive fleet. By modern standards, the squadron he and Em had assembled for her were all nearly antiques. Without this intervention, probably every one of the big ships would have been on a breaker list in another year or two. IFV Archangelsk. T-243, a battle tug with a second pod attached, full of cargo for the flight. A War Destroyer squadron in Volgogrod, Irtysh, and Yenisey. The designs were similar enough to BrightOak, Vigilant, and Rubicon, upgraded just slightly when Fribourg was still expecting a different future than Yan Bedrov had given everyone.

  The only new boats she w
ould be leasing was a team of modern D-class escorts, the so-called 27-boats, D-2701, 02, 03, and 09, with 06-C as a weird-looking mutant, a fifth-frame in the middle where a small flag bridge had been added. D-2706-C could lead a long-range raiding squadron, such as this exact force. The team was comparable, more or less, to a single heavy cruiser for firepower, without the resilience, but they had been designed for service in places without bases handy, such as the Buran frontier, or for export to Salonnia.

  Jessica laughed that she would receive the first ones in service. Her, one of Salonnia’s mortal enemies, more or less.

  And then the three of them were on the bridge. It was like stepping back in time. The old design, where the Captain sat at the back of the room and all his officers faced forward rather than inward towards each other in the Bedrov style.

  The small flag bridge below would be just as bad when she got down there, her and her Flag Officer facing each other across a small table where screens could show images, with all the rest of the room facing screens on the outer walls.

  Captain Arnd Gorzen rose as the hatch opened.

  “Admirals on the deck,” he called in a powerful baritone voice.

  Most of the men in here rose as well, turning to face them. Jessica noted that the science officer and the pilot remained in control of their stations, which pleased her.

  “Captain Gorzen, may I present Admiral Jessica Keller?” Em said formally as they came to rest in front of the man.

  Jessica shook his hand rather than allowing him to salute. Shortly, things would be a lot different for the man, and she wanted him and the rest to start approaching their jobs outside their own comfort zones.

  “Admiral,” Gorzen nodded, apparently suppressing the urge to click his heels together as he did.

  Jessica smiled and looked around for the Flag Commander, seated off to one side. She pitched her voice to carry to the room.

  “Flag Commander Li, you will open a channel to the squadron and instruct all vessels to put me on ship-wide,” she ordered in a voice just as formal as Em’s. This had all been worked out prior, but they had to go through with the formal bits and make the performance credible. “I want all hands in the squadron to hear me.”

  “Channel open, Admiral,” Jakob Li said. He had obviously been anticipating her, which was a good sign.

  Li had an Asian cast to his features, like the ancient Chinese Diaspora, but with blue eyes and naturally blond hair, probably making him look exotic to anyone he met. But he was also Ralf’s recommendation for the man to handle this task, so unlike anything the Fribourg Fleet had ever done before.

  “All hands, this is Admiral of the Red Jessica Keller,” she announced gravely. “As of this moment, I have the flag. However, as you know, this squadron will be operating under a different flag for the duration. This is not a flag of convenience, such as when my Aquitaine force flew IFV flags while fighting with you on the Buran border. As of now, these vessels have become the property of a foreign power. Specifically I have signed a formal agreement with the Crown of Fribourg and the vessels will become property of the Crown of Corynthe. Your crews will continue to man them, and at the end of your service, you may apply for Corynthe citizenship and will be given preference if you do. If you return to Fribourg, you will be rewarded commensurate with your service and acknowledged by both Crowns.”

  She paused to look around the bridge. Most of the faces smiled back at her. They knew that the ships would have otherwise been grounded soon, and the crews most likely broken up. Battlecruisers and War Destroyers had no place in a future dominated by Expeditionary-style vessels. But the Grand Admiral himself, and Home Fleet Commander Frankenheimer, had chosen them for one more grand adventure, and these men appreciated it.

  Jessica nodded to Em and began to unbutton her jacket, taking it off and handing it to Ralf to hold.

  Underneath, she wore gray. It made a statement that would soon be heard and felt across a wide swath of the galaxy, so she had decided to make the biggest splash possible. Vibol had taken Moirrey and Desianna’s design, and made it a masterwork.

  Charcoal gray pants, so tight as to be stretched on, rather than the looser slacks these men wore daily. She was the Queen of the Pirates, and those men needed to be reminded of that. Knee-high black leather armored combat boots in the style she had originally worn so long ago at Bunala. Over her sports bra, a light gray pullover with a mock turtleneck collar. Atop that, a slate-gray jacket, in a shade midway between the shirt and the pants. It was longer than a bolero, but not much, just to the top of her hips. A tight fit under the Admiral’s jacket, but not uncomfortable. Functional for shipboard, with pockets inside, and a useful waterproof shell she could wear on the ground on any sort of moderately unpleasant day.

  On each wrist, a single band of color as wide as her four fingers, where these men wore thin, golden stripes to indicate their rank. Hers was a deep maroon, almost the color of the wine she preferred.

  On her left breast, over her heart, that now-famous, stylized logo of a beautiful woman with blue skin and four arms, holding a saber, a main-gauche, a severed head, and a planet, specifically Ian Zhao and Petron respectively, a legend that the whole galaxy knew these days.

  At each side of her collar, a single hexagon, solid and the size of a Lev coin, forged with gold taken from one of Arnulf’s favorite bracers.

  Jessica’s graying hair had gotten past halfway down her back. She had it pulled back tonight into a simple tail to stay out of her way, again reminding these men that she was a foreigner, a corsair no less.

  The Queen of the Pirates.

  But something more, as well. They would come to understand, some few of them. Tom Provst had mentioned it when the two of them had a moment alone to plan. He had seen the signs.

  Kali-ma herself had awakened from her long slumber.

  “Now, my friends, the business at hand will become serious.” Jessica turned to Gorzen and smile grimly. “Archangelsk was a place. A port city once upon a time, named for something else. As this ship enters Corynthe service, I want to remind you of that other thing. This Battlecruiser is an Archangel. A warrior. Not counting Aquitaine warships we might encounter, there is nothing in Lincolnshire service heavy enough to stand against us. Similarly, save for a few of the modern catamaran-designed cruisers, there is nothing out there capable of standing against a War Destroyer. The only edge they will have will be in fightercraft, but I’m taking an entire raiding squadron of the new Twenty-seven-class escorts, so they don’t even have that option.”

  Jessica paused to turn from left to right so she could make eye contact with all the men on her bridge. On screens on the other ships, they would feel that same moment when she brought them all into her power.

  “I am not calling on you to defend my throne, gentlemen,” Jessica announced. “Nothing so romantic as that. I am taking you to Lincolnshire to destroy my enemies. I will not settle for less. You will break them so utterly that they never even consider threatening me or my people again. That is the mission at hand. Captain Gorzen, do you have any questions?”

  He had been briefed earlier. Gorzen had met with the three of them for many hours over the last few days to get it all hammered out. Emperor Karl VIII had personally called the man to offer her blessing on his mission.

  Jessica watched him stand a little straighter today. Smile grimly but with stark professionalism. His reward for a job well done might be a Patent of Nobility to go with an Admiral’s flag, and he knew it. The other captains were also men Ralf and Tom Provst had spoken for.

  There was not much higher praise today.

  “No questions, Your Majesty,” Gorzen stated, changing even his language to reflect his new situation.

  “Gentlemen, hear me,” Jessica said. “As of this moment, you are reconstituted as First Pirate Fleet, Corynthe Command. All hands, stand by for maneuver orders in three hours, and then a sail that will put you into the history books.”

  She signaled to Li and he cut th
e broadcast.

  Jessica turned to the two admirals that had accompanied her and nodded.

  “Em, Ralf, I will see you to your shuttle and safely home,” she said. “And then I’m going to get mean.”

  “Understood, Jess,” Em said loud enough for everyone to hear. “Just remember to stop before you scorch the earth.”

  “We’ll see, Em,” she shrugged. “We’ll see.”

  CHAPTER XLVI

  IMPERIAL FOUNDING: 183/06/22. IFV VALIANT, HEMERA SYSTEM

  BECAUSE HE HAD INVITED IT, Vo treated the appearance of the Aquitaine officer like a formal thing. Not a state visit, since she was merely a Centurion, a legal affairs officer, but also not like an annoyance, either.

  Every day he kept Kosnett bottled up here was another day that Kingston could get closer to home, warning the systems along the way of a possible impending attack. The Republic probably thought they were keeping him here, but Vo had enough force at hand to do major damage across this whole frontier, if Aquitaine pissed him off.

  Considering his anger at the betrayal, it might come to that. Judit Chavarría had been the Premier who allowed him to become zu Arlo, a Ritter of the Imperial Household. That she had tried to kill him made this personal in very ugly ways.

  That woman might yet have to taste his rage.

  But that was tomorrow. Today, he stood on the flight deck in his field uniform, rather than the cloak and sword he might have used as props. Vo had dated a few lawyers in his time. They tended to be too linear to be swayed by such circumstances and settings, so it wasn’t worth trying.

  Instead, those kinds of people were all about words on the page. Even spoken words didn’t really achieve value until they had been transcribed and made permanent.

  Vo had never met Andrea Velazquez, but he knew type. As she stepped off the shuttlecraft with a firm stride, leading two men obviously under her authority, she seemed to have been sent by Central Casting. Slightly taller than average, offset by being almost rail-thin. A volleyball player, perhaps. Dark skin nearly the shade of Jessica’s but she was too young for her brown hair to start showing age.

 

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