Petron

by Blaze Ward

  It is my hope that you will be able to return soon, or that perhaps I will come to see you at St. Legier, secure enough in my throne to watch Casey and Vo secure theirs in turn. In between, we will have lit Lincolnshire afire in ways that Horvat et al. probably never imagined in their worst nightmares. This storm might rage for years.

  There will be peace. I will have it, even if it must come at the end of a gun, but that may be what is necessary. We have communicated Vo’s packet to every planet we have visited, as well as sending along with every merchant and vessel we encounter. You will have seen it by now, and hopefully it will be enough to convince Aquitaine to behave themselves.

  If that is not possible, then I will rebuild my captured, Republic fleet and head inland to convince many people that peace is the best option. In another year, the force that I will be able to send will be enough to convince all the various locales of my sincerity. Or I’ll burn them to the ground.

  Moirrey sends her love, and encloses several pictures, including the latest of five-month-old Dina, along with everyone else. She has been busy in her enforced idleness, unable to join us in our grand adventures that might shake the foundations of the galaxy. Moirrey angry and with time on her hands is a frightening concept. Along with Yan and Pops, they have designed something new. Several things. I cannot explain all the implications yet, except to tell you that everything both men learned from several years of Expeditionary cruisers has been boiled down into a new generation of ships and weapons that will overturn everything already overturned once as recently as five years ago.

  I hope I never have to use them, but that is not the same thing as being unprepared. I could not take Ladaux, even with the addition of Tom Provst and his current force, but there are perhaps only a handful of planetary systems that would be entirely safe, if I had enough funds to build things the way Yan proposes.

  It is lonely at this edge of the galaxy, but I comfort myself knowing that it will not be long until I can hold you again. Until this rampant stupidity can be done and perhaps we can have peace. It may be necessary for us to conquer Lincolnshire first, so perhaps you should prepare for a lifetime as the spouse of a conquering emperor in addition to everything else.

  Or perhaps we will be able to commission Pops to build us that new explorer and circumnavigate the galaxy like proper honeymooners. We will let the future explain itself when we get there.

  * * *

  ALL MY LOVE,

  Jess

  CHAPTER LXVIII

  DATE OF THE REPUBLIC OCTOBER 4, 405 CITY OF LINCOLN, RAMSEY

  JUDIT REVIEWED THE REPORT AGAIN, concentrating on not pulling her hair out as she did so. Across the desk, Kamil Miloslav stood patiently waiting for some external response from her, no doubt to convey to Tadej and show her at her worst.

  Her weakest.

  “There is no doubting this information?” she asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

  “There is not, Governor,” Kamil said. “I interviewed Command Centurion Arno myself as soon as they arrived in-system and identified themselves.”

  “An entire fleet wiped out?” Judit whispered in shock.

  “Worse, Governor,” he replied. “Captured. According to the reports Arno compiled, most of the ships are fully repairable, even by yards in Corynthe, and could thus be returned to action flying pirate flags as early as the spring. And there is more.”

  “More?” Judit demanded in a hiss. “Could it get any worse?”

  She hesitated to breathe as she watched this man take a shallow breath and rock slightly back and forth.

  “I have preliminary reports from Grantham, Governor,” Kamil explained. “The Imperial fleet that was at Petron has not returned to St. Legier, as we had anticipated. Instead, three weeks ago they arrived at Grantham with surprise, and smashed all orbital defenses even more thoroughly than Keller’s forces did here. Admiral Tom Provst was identified in command of that force, so he had at least come to the frontier from the capital, and presumably done so after Karl VIII returned to her throne. At present, we do not know where they went after Grantham, so Lincolnshire Command has sent warnings to all systems to prepare.”

  “Where is Kosnett?” Judit demanded.

  It was always interesting, watching Kamil retrieve information from inside his head without consulting any notes. The man had an eidetic memory, literally photographic in his ability to read something once and then remember it perfectly, even years later. He could even repeat accents from something he had heard once at a dinner party.

  “His most recent orders were to raid Salonnian forces at Ostragon, Governor,” Kamil said. “This was before we were aware of Provst’s forces deciding to remain in the vicinity of Lincolnshire. After Hemera, our intelligence suggested that they would retire to Imperial space and hold that border against incursions instead. We are not entirely sure why they have taken this course of action.”

  “That is because you do not understand Keller or Karl VIII, Kamil,” Judit laughed harshly.

  “My apologies, Governor,” Kamil half-bowed. “All of our expectations and calculations of Imperial behavior leaned towards de-escalation wherever possible. This level of martial aggressiveness is out of character for them.”

  “This isn’t Karl VIII, Kamil,” Judit snapped. “This is Vo Arlo and Tom Provst on the one hand. Keller has likely taken it upon herself to get even with Lincolnshire for Fribourg, in payment for everything we have done. I would smash her, but the forces I need are probably at Anameleck Prime right now, protecting our industrial heartland against Tom Provst and others deciding to get vindictive.”

  “As you say, Governor,” Kamil said.

  He started to speak again when an angry fist impacted on the closed door to the office. It was not a knock so much as a small battering ram.

  Kamil pivoted on his feet with a hand in a pocket as he backed towards a corner, but Judit stopped him from drawing whatever weapon he had hidden there.

  “See who it is,” she ordered.

  Kamil moved to the door like a ghost and cracked it just enough to peek out and whisper with someone in the hallway. He closed it and turned to her with an inscrutable face.

  “The Governor of Ramsey,” he said quietly.

  “Show him in, Kamil,” she replied. “And remain in the corner as a witness. I don’t think I will need a bodyguard, but you can do that as well, if it becomes necessary.”

  This governor wasn’t the man that Keller had encountered a decade ago, but they were cut from the same cloth. Tall and handsome, glad-handers who could work a coffee shop as easily as a convention center.

  Today, he entered like a newly-roused bear in the dead of winter, spying everything with hungry eyes before he moved to a chair and sat without invitation.

  “Governor Chavarría,” he nodded, glancing back once at Kamil, as if to fix his location in the corner before ignoring him.

  “Governor Hialeah,” Judit replied with a soft nod. “To what do I owe the privilege?”

  “I have just come from a meeting with my State Council,” the man announced. “We have determined that the war with Corynthe and the others was begun under false pretenses, and have decided that our only path forward is to sue for peace.”

  “That is rather unfortunate, Governor,” Judit said. “And premature, if I may say so.”

  “Your worlds aren’t the ones being attacked, Chavarría,” he snapped. “Ramsey was bad enough, but within the realm of acceptable. Now Imperial forces have hit Tilou as well as Grantham. Most of my fleets have been eliminated.”

  “Tilou, Governor Hialeah?” Judit hoped she managed to keep the gasp out of her breath.

  “That is correct,” the man growled. “And it is obvious that Aquitaine won’t be able to stop them, as your own fleet was destroyed at Petron. My worlds are sitting ducks now, so we must have peace. I will be dispatching couriers to everyone on all sides, and offering a negotiated armistice at the earliest opportunity. Hopefully, their demands will not be too gr
eat for us to handle.”

  “Certainly that’s a little hasty, isn’t it?” Judit asked.

  “No, Chavarría, it is not,” he said in a tight, angry voice. “If anything, it should have been done earlier. Much earlier. We have been reviewing the tapes provided by General zu Arlo and have concluded that all of this may have actually originated in Ladaux and that your government might be the cause of all our discomfort, rather than our treaty ally in all this.”

  “You don’t mean that.”

  Judit started to say more, but he interrupted.

  “And more importantly,” the man snapped, “we find your activities inconsistent with that of an accredited diplomat, Governor. You are hereby declared non grata and ordered to depart Ramsey within forty-eight hours. This includes your entire suite, as well as Aquitaine’s current Ambassadorial staff above the rank of Assistant Deputy of Station.”

  Judit watched the man turn to face Kamil.

  “That includes all Aquitaine spies currently in Lincolnshire space, Miloslav,” he said distinctly. “You are specifically not welcome to return. Ever. Communicate all of this to your masters when you return home. I will attempt to keep my own government from breaking with Aquitaine permanently over this, but my people are exceedingly angry that you have done this to us. It will take them some time to calm down. The sooner all of you are gone, the sooner I can try to effect some level of damage control and convince Keller and her people to stop destroying my fleets and threatening my economies before we are forced to review our treaties with Aquitaine as the cost of Keller’s demands for peace with Corynthe.”

  He rose gracefully and nodded to her as he opened the door.

  “I have to live with Keller and her people on my border for as long as she chooses to be a threat, Governor,” he growled. “Keep that in mind when you are looking for your next hapless victim to exploit.”

  Judit was perhaps the most surprised when he slammed the door hard on the frame. Normally, Hialeah wasn’t given to such emotional displays, but she had seen a true rage on the man’s face at the end.

  She wondered how much worse it would be at home when this news arrived with her.

  CHAPTER LXIX

  DATE OF THE REPUBLIC OCTOBER 2, 405 FLEET HEADQUARTERS, LADAUX

  IT HAD TAKEN several days to arrange the meeting, but Andrea had understood going in that one did not just drop in on the First Lord of the Fleet with something like this. That is, unless you wanted to start out by making a splash so big that it couldn’t be covered up again later.

  It had been a gamble on her part, going through proper channels like this. Kosnett had warned her that the First Lord might ignore her. Or collect all of zu Arlo’s materials and file them away forever. And her. Andrea wondered what would happen in that case.

  General zu Arlo didn’t strike her as the sort of man to have placed all his eggs in one basket by only sending one messenger. She was probably only the first of many, so perhaps that would draw any stinging scorpion tails away from her.

  One could only hope that her career came out of this intact. Perhaps zu Arlo could put in a good word with her elsewhere, if it became necessary?

  So she sat outside the First Lord’s inner office and meditated on the entirety of the law as she waited. On that structure of language and agreements upon which the entire Republic was built, going back to Henri Baudin and his transformation of the fabled Story Road into a proper nation.

  He had not conquered the various worlds by force of arms, relying instead on a trade network to convince the many people to join of their own volition, both for the trade benefits as well as for the legal structure the man had instituted: a Republic when so many others were kingdoms.

  We are not Empire. Aquitaine is a place where the consent of the governed is necessary for government to occur. We are a body of laws, above which no man nor woman may stand.

  The inner door opened and Command Centurion Ming appeared, looking much more pale than he had an hour ago when the door had closed behind him.

  “Centurion Velazquez, would you join us?” he said simply, gesturing for her to rise and enter the temple of command, from which the Navy itself was run.

  She was glad that Raoul wasn’t here today. He wasn’t an insurance policy so much as a fallback she could leave safely outside the machinations of the titans that would occur going forward.

  Andrea took a deep breath and came to her feet deliberately. If nothing else, she would go to her execution with dignity.

  She had never met First Lord Petia Naoumov in the flesh, so she wasn’t prepared for how tall the woman was. It was like being twelve again and surrounded by adults, for the woman was four centimeters taller than even Ming.

  Andrea came to attention on this side of the desk and found a spot on the far side of infinity for her eyes.

  “Be seated. Velazquez,” the First Lord said quietly. “And at ease.”

  “Yes, sir,” Andrea said.

  She sat on the right, hearing Ming sit to her left. The contents of the briefcase were half-strewn across the desk, along with a small tablet upon which they had obviously just watched the infamous interview.

  “You are the Judge Advocate General representative from RAN Cyrus, Centurion?” the First Lord asked in a voice tinged with official power.

  “I am, sir,” Andrea nodded, daring to actually meet the woman’s eyes for the first time.

  “And you stand by both reports, Velazquez?” Naoumov asked. “General zu Arlo’s as well as the subsequent one you composed after going aboard IFV Valiant?”

  “I do, First Lord,” Andrea said gravely.

  “What were your impressions of the two men you interviewed, Centurion?” she asked carefully.

  It sounded like a harmless question, but the First Lord was seeking her legal opinion as an expert.

  “I found them credible, sir,” Andrea offered with careful words. “Obviously both had expected to be executed, and have willingly given up the people who they believe hired them in return for Imperial leniency. I’m not sure who managed to convince zu Arlo to accept that, but it had to be someone he trusted. I would have said the Emperor, but I am given to understand that she departed Petron almost immediately, so I left that part of my report blank.”

  “Everyone has lost track of someone, Velazquez,” the First Lord said with the first hint of a smile in her eyes. “They were busy tracking Karl VIII, the Grand Admiral, and Nils Kasum getting to St. Legier. Jessica Keller and Torsten Wald rode with them aboard Tomas Kigali’s ship. Nobody asked where Denis Jež was during all this.”

  “Ah. Keller’s former senior Command Centurion and right hand,” Andrea let the surprise show on her face. “Yes, he could be one that could move the General. Is it important?”

  “Having him in place lets that fleet maneuver, Centurion,” the First Lord replied. “Nobody ever gives Jež credit for his capability, but the man was made an Imperial Admiral by zu Wachturm as part of The Expedition long before we made him a Fleet Centurion. He is not one to be underestimated.”

  “So noted, First Lord,” Andrea said. “My other orders from Fleet Centurion Kosnett were to place myself at your disposal once you had a chance to review the documentation to your satisfaction. How may I serve?”

  “I note from your own report an assumption that the assassination attempt on zu Arlo must be based on some previously-undisclosed government findings,” Naoumov said. “Why do you say that?”

  “Attempting to assassinate a foreign dignitary is illegal under Republic Law, First Lord,” Andrea said, shifting mentally onto safer ground now. “Flatly unlawful. As well as immoral and unethical. To even suggest such a course of action one would first have to fall under the sort of emergency powers normally only granted to the government in the face of Imminent Catastrophe. Once such a thing has been declared, almost all legal restrictions on government actions are removed, but I am unaware of any other situation where such a thing as this may be ordered. Further, I am not aware of such a
declaration by the government so it would have to have been done in secret and not shared, which it should have, as such declarations are intended to be used for short periods in extremis. Days, not years.”

  “Would such a finding make it legal?” the older woman asked.

  Andrea felt her shoulders come up in response as she reviewed the thoughts that had kept her company for the entire trip here.

  “There are procedures that should have been followed which would have at least covered it for a short time, First Lord,” she said simply. “Especially if the outcome was, at it ended up being, the possibility of a General War involving at least five players. Neither General zu Arlo nor Fleet Centurion Kosnett believe that the Government’s actions will stand up to any sort of scrutiny in the light of day. I must add that I agree with their opinion. If we were going to declare war on everyone, we could have done it on much more stable legal grounds, publicly, and much sooner.”

  “And yet, as you said, these actions may be entirely legal, Centurion,” the First Lord’s face got strict and angry, but Andrea wasn’t willing to budge.

  “Legal, yes, First Lord,” Andrea agreed. “Within an extremely narrow band of time. In any case, I do not find them ethical. We are supposed to be better than that. Aquitaine is supposed to be the shining example that all other cultures and nations aspire to. We cannot do that if we act like back-alley thugs.”

  “Are you willing to risk your career on the certainty of your beliefs, Centurion Velazquez?” the First Lord pressed.

  Andrea paused. Those words had several layers of meaning to parse, especially for a lawyer. This woman wasn’t just asking if Andrea would take responsibility for conveying the report this far, but perhaps how much further she would be willing to carry things.