by Blaze Ward
Em got serious all of a sudden, catching the realization that his throw-away comment might have sparked something.
“You’re serious?” Em asked. “I was only kidding.”
“I’ll have years before I feel safe going back to Ladaux, Emmerich,” Nils said. “I had planned to teach for now, but if you’ve got something better for me to do, let’s talk.”
“How would you feel about taking supreme command of all forces across the nominal border and operating in the former Holding zones, Nils?” Em asked. “That’s a blue slot, but I’ve got few of those men that I trust not to try to conquer all those lost sheep in the process of merely rounding them up. Plus, having you there would go a long ways towards mollifying Aquitaine. They’ve never really been happy about that. It was one of the reasons Horvat pushed so hard. He didn’t think we would settle for trade when we could triple the number of worlds under the Imperial flag and then overwhelm the Republic in another generation.”
“And Jessica’s not interested?” Nils fixed her with a steady stare.
“Cincinnatus is ready to be free of uniformed responsibilities, Nils,” she replied. “For good. I already told him to piss off on this topic.”
“I’ll need to talk to Rosemonde…” Nils began.
“Freya and I will host the two of you for dinner in a couple of weeks,” Em said. “That will give you time to work on her, and my wife a chance to get to know her better. Jessica?”
“Absolutely not,” she laughed. “You two double-date. Torsten and I are done with Imperial politics as much as possible, and this will turn into a planning session over port and dessert very quickly. I know you two.”
They both laughed.
“I just can’t imagine you as a civilian,” Em finally offered. “Like your days with Nils going back thirty years, you and I have fifteen between us. I won’t know what to do without you there threatening my existence, or saving it.”
“You’re a big boy, Em,” Jessica chuckled. “You’ll figure it out. And you’ve got Nils and Tom Provst, among others. Leave me out of this.”
“I will, as much as I can, First Centurion,” Em said.
He held out his hand to her and she shook it. It wasn’t the end, not by a long shot.
But it was an ending, and they all recognized it.
EPILOGUE – VO
IMPERIAL FOUNDING: 184/07/03. IMPERIAL PALACE, STRASBOURG, ST. LEGIER
Vo stood perfectly still as Vibol worked, pinning the final seams and folds for the new uniform that he would wear for the wedding ceremony. There had been nothing like this in five centuries of Fribourg’s history, so Vibol had been able to put his foot down, as only he could, and invent a whole new vocabulary, in the face of the men who thought that they should have some input.
Fools.
This was Vibol. The Tailor did it his own way, and damned were the people who thought they could force that man to give way.
There had never been a wedding like this. A military man marrying into an important family would wear his best dress uniform, while the daughter of power and responsibility would wear a dress commensurate with her station.
This one happened to be an Emperor in her own right, as well as a Ritter of the Imperial Household. She would wear black robes reminiscent of what her father had worn when he had once invested a young man from Anameleck Prime. Both of them would wear the crimson cloak of their station.
Vo would be wearing something Vibol referred to affectionately as Imperial Consort. The basic shape had started out as a dress uniform of Imperial Land Forces, that same, basic, sage green that the men wore when they weren’t important enough to wear regimental colors. Because Vo was no longer going to be on active duty, Vibol had redone the entire thing in slate gray, a dark just this side of charcoal, and trimmed the edges and the seams of the pants in the same Imperial Crimson as his cloak. It would look black in the right light, until he was standing next to Em, when that man wore his truly-black Grand Admiral’s uniform.
Michelle Ali al-Inverness had finally forgiven him for everything that had happened on Petron and had been willing to accept a commission to create a new sword for him. He would wear it only once, and even then only for a short time, but having her do it helped with the symbolism and let her be involved again, at a time when she might have taken her ball and gone home for good.
Vibol moved again, adjusting the hang of the new sword’s baldric through the epaulettes on his shoulders. Finally, he appeared satisfied for the time being.
“Draw the sword with a natural motion,” Vibol said. “Remembering not to move your feet.”
Vo did. It wasn’t as easy as it looked, but that was because his training over the years immediately wanted to move his feet into one of several stances, depending on the forms you had studied and the number of opponents you were about to engage in lethal combat.
The blade itself was more a chromed-steel mace than anything. It had been forged correctly, but Michelle had been instructed not to even begin putting an edge on it, so it was blunt along the entire edge and rounded at the tip.
Decorative.
Or in this case, the sword of a man who was about to marry an Emperor, but had not yet been officially accepted. Part of the ceremony itself would involve Casey trading him this blunt sword for one that had an edge on it. A killing blade such as an Imperial Consort might need.
Karl VII’s favorite sword had been lost at Werder, but Imperial historians had found one that had been used by Karl VI on more than one occasion. That antique would become Vo’s during the ceremony, representing his transition from mere supplicant to the Emperor’s right hand and principle defender.
He would need a sword with a killing edge for that, but not until then.
“Yes, that will do,” Vibol said.
Vo felt the man move around behind him and chalk a line on his shoulder blade.
“Again please, zu Arlo?” Vibol asked.
Vo sheathed the sword, waited a moment, and then drew it forth.
More chalk on his back.
“Very good,” the Tailor said. “I shall have this ready for you tomorrow, and then all will be in readiness, General.”
Vo recognized the dismissal for what it was and stripped quickly. Here in the palace, he could wear the simple uniform that perhaps best fit his mood, the field utilities of the Fourth Saxon. He no longer commanded the 189th Legion, although that would not be official for two more days. Alan was handling everything now, including overseeing Cutlass Force here, as much as they needed it.
He made his way back to his own apartment and had just settled down when a knock at the door brought him to his feet. He was almost at the center of the security structure known as the Imperial Palace, not all that far from Casey’s apartment, so the list of people that could just pop in for a bit was relatively short. At the same time, nobody had indicated that they were coming by and he had no more meetings until dinner with Casey and some others in a few hours.
Whoever it was had still gotten past Cutlass, as well as Casey’s folks, so he opened the door. And then remembered to pick up his jaw from the deck when his brain recovered.
“Jessica?” he asked blankly.
She smiled up at him.
Up at him. He always had to remember how tiny the woman really was, because in his memory she seemed so much taller. Casey’s height, at least, if not his, but even Casey had a head on her.
“Please, come in,” he said, finally remembering his manners.
She was dressed like a civilian. Not even a Queen in her gray, but merely a person you might encounter on the streets of Strasbourg, like if you went for a walk on the canal-side promenade.
“Can I get you anything?” he asked as he retreated.
“Sit, Vo,” she replied. “This is merely a social call. I wanted to see how well you’re holding up with everything else.”
“Well, I think,” he acknowledged. “My family is staying in Mejico and trying to come to grips with things, but
Victoria Ames has been in charge of them, along with parts of Cutlass. Casey’s fighting a never-ending battle with bureaucrats who either think their opinion matters, or are afraid to make any decision at all, lest it be the wrong one. There are times I long for something so simple as your wedding was, where all I have to do is stand there and answer a few questions. This is going to be an all-day affair, starting with the ceremony where I formally convert and join the Imperial Church. Then Casey’s official Coronation as Emperor of Fribourg. Finally the wedding itself, followed by my Investiture. Yours was a breeze by comparison.”
She had a lively laugh so unlike the formal, focused woman he saw in his mind when she wasn’t around. And she smiled more than he remembered.
“Those are just ceremonies for the vids, Vo,” she smiled. “I wanted to see how you’re doing as a person. As the man at the center of this maelstrom.”
“Good,” he said, finally relaxing enough to look inside himself and check. “Too much to do and get right. Too many faces to study so I can talk to them intelligently at various receptions or meetings. But I expect all that to calm down some in another six months. How about you?”
“I’m done, and it feels lovely, Vo,” Jessica said. “I just came from a bottle of wine with Nils Kasum and Emmerich zu Wachturm, and I’m almost free. Once I get you and Casey successfully married off, Torsten and I will go home, and I have no more responsibilities to the galaxy. I will leave it all for you two here, and folks like Moirrey, Bedrov, Barret, and others.”
“Is it that simple, do you suppose?” he asked.
“I’ve given as much as I can over the last thirty years, Vo,” Jessica’s smile got sober. “It will never be over, but it’s no longer on my shoulders to carry. There are other people I can rely on to do the right thing.”
“People might disagree, Jessica,” Vo said. “Especially now that I’m officially no longer part of Aquitaine.”
“Vo, where you reside will have no bearing whatsoever on whether or not you’ll do the right thing,” she said. “You’ll have Em, Alan, and Navin as your Wardens, and that damned well better be good enough for the rest of the galaxy.”
“One would hope,” Vo mused.
“Vo, let me tell you something,” she said, turning deadly serious as he watched. “Navin and I talked, after St. Legier. After The Bombardment. Once upon a time, at Ballard, I had told him what I needed out of one of his security marines, and what I expected. I’ve told you this story before.”
“Sure,” Vo nodded. “You expected him to send Jackson Tawfeek.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “JT would have been perfectly adequate to the task. The man went on to be a pretty good Centurion before he retired into civilian life. But this was much later. After Em had come to take Casey home. We watched a tape of that speech you gave to the people of this planet, standing in that studio in Mejico, asking the people of the Empire to open their homes, their lives, and their love to complete strangers who had lost everything but their lives.”
Vo sucked a breath deep and hard as that moment came back to him. He still woke from a nightmare occasionally, back in the Death Zone and scrabbling against a never-ending avalanche of rocks and snow, trying to save people.
“I remember,” Vo managed in a small voice.
“Navin looked at me with the greatest pride I have ever seen in that man, Vo,” Jessica said. “He smiled and said That’s why I sent Arlo, Jessica. He knew who you were, what you were capable of. I have never regretting listening to the man.”
Vo felt his cheeks turn bright red. Jessica was still just about the only person in the galaxy that could do that to him. Her and Navin.
“Yes,” she said, studying his face. “That’s why I can retire now and go home. I’m leaving the galaxy in good hands with you and Casey. Both of you will do what is right, rather than what might be the most expedient. You will leave the galaxy a better place than you found it. Stopping Fribourg from winning the old war, or Aquitaine from starting the new one. Destroying The Eldest to free the rest of humanity. I’ve given most of my adult life to this task, but I don’t have to carry that weight anymore.”
“Thank you,” Vo managed to whisper through the tears streaming down his face.
Suddenly, she was there, standing next to his chair and holding his head against her stomach like his mother might have done when he was a child. Vo wrapped his arms around her and felt her strength flow into him.
She had set him on this quest so long ago. Kicked his ass when he wavered. Reminded him of who he was and what he represented when he forgot.
He was here because she had believed in him.
And that was enough.
EPILOGUE – CASEY
IMPERIAL FOUNDING: 184/07/07. IMPERIAL PALACE, STRASBOURG, ST. LEGIER
Casey woke from a doze, unsure what had drawn her up from her exhaustion. The room was dim, but not dark. Her Coronation robes were draped carefully across a chair where Vo had left them when he had finally stripped her out of them.
After a day that felt like a week, from the Church Mass, to the Coronation, to the Wedding, the two of them had still fallen into bed like giddy teenagers and spent hours exploring one another for the first time. At least Vo had some experience beforehand. All she had had was what her friends could tell her.
They hadn’t begun to describe it adequately. At all.
She reached out a hand and Vo wasn’t there. That was what had woken her. She had grown cold.
Casey sat up and saw his silhouette at the window, the curtains drawn back so he could watch the night sky.
Silently, she slid from the bed and approached.
”Sorry,” he whispered as she drew close and wrapped her arm around his waist. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”
“What happened?” Casey asked.
She had never slept with any man, but she knew Vo well enough that he wouldn’t be standing here without a reason. He was warm, so she pressed her body up against him. It was that, or find a robe to put on.
“I was saying goodbye to Jessica and Torsten,” Vo murmured. “They’re departing tonight.”
“She was supposed to stay around for another week,” Casey replied, unsure if she should be upset or not.
She had had several long conversations with Jess over the last two weeks, so she wasn’t really surprised. Jessica had even hinted that she might wait until the wedding was done, and then disappear.
“I know,” Vo said. “But she had that look in her eyes, there at the end of the evening when we retired and everyone moved the party elsewhere.”
“So she’s gone?” Casey asked. “Just like that?”
“Yes and no,” Vo replied. “They’re going to go home, to Petron, and retire. Swap Archangel for the new ship Uly has been building. Kali-ma and the others will remain here until David is ready to leave, but this is her way of stepping off the stage and letting the next generation have all the problems she has been facing. The next time we see her, she’ll be a civilian, standing on the deck of the Explorer Terra, named for the lost Homeworld of humanity. She told me the other day, but I didn’t fully understand it at the time. Only now.”
“I’ll miss her,” Casey said.
“Oh, she’ll be back,” Vo said. “Probably in about a year or so, depending. But it won’t be Admiral Keller. Or First Centurion. Or even Queen of the Pirates. Just Jessica. And that will be good enough.”
“Do you know which ship is hers?” Casey asked, straining to take in the full night sky overhead.
“Second star to the right, I suppose,” Vo said in that quiet, humorous voice he only did when they were alone. “And into legend.”
EPILOGUE – PINT-SIZED
Pint-sized, Jessica wrote.
By now you’ll have figured out that I’m gone. My writ ran to the wedding and no more. I think you knew that, even if you didn’t put it into words. Queen Jessica is retiring to Dowager for good, and I want to go home. When I get there, Uly has promised me a new ship, based on t
hings you and the boys have designed before everyone left to come to St. Legier for Casey and Vo’s wedding.
I cannot ever thank you enough for what you have done. The galaxy cannot thank you, and they have not even a fraction of the whole truth. We would not be here today without you.
Without a secondary missile launcher you convinced me to build into old Auberon’s observation dome. Without you calculating the spin to slam a rock into a pirate base. Without you saving Suvi’s life at Ballard. Without Thuringwell. Without so many other places and things that just listing them will take all night, and are unnecessary.
I might have held the sword that saved the galaxy from ruin, but you forged it. And held your own when it came time to fight Imperial assassins or rogue gods on your own.
Jessica Keller is done and leaving the grand stage, so that Casey and Vo can have it, along with others, such as Lady Moirrey of Petron. Or St. Legier. Perhaps both. You will always have a berth with me, on any adventure, as you are the sister I never had, even as Casey is the child I never bore.
My love to Dina and Digger. And everyone else when you see them.
But most importantly to you.
Your sister,
Jessica.
Moirrey held the paper out so her tears wouldn’t mar it as she paced quietly into the room where Dina was asleep. She and Digger had talked about a younger sister or brother for the wee one. Mebbe it were time. Like Jess, maybe she needed to grows up and start acting like a responsible adult. Er somethin’.
Casey had lots of young folks ’round her, like Anna-Katherine, but precious few aunties she could trust, once ya gots past the totally-awesome Lady Freya. And there’d be Imperial chillins coming soon ’nuff. They’d need cousins ta grows up with, same as Casey’s Da had had Uncle Em.
She were too old to keep having crazy adventures, other than the odd weekend where she broked out the flyin’ leathers and pretended to be a Valkyrie again, but she had her own wee one, so getting herself hurt er killed doing stupid stunts prolly needed to wait until Dina were old enough to participate, too.
