Vindication

by Ken Wolfson

  "Brilliant girl, yes, he was. When he died, he left his title only to his youngest child and only daughter Tarly, instead of his barren sister or three sons. As you can imagine, there was quite a scandal that ended with her aunt using a legal trick to wrest the family title away. And I got caught in the middle of it," Adrian said.

  "What could you have done to anger her so much?"

  "After two years of legal battles, Tarly's lawyer requested from the family, and received, trial by blood duel. She had to fight all four of her family, one at a time, in non-lethal combat," Adrian said. "Tarly is an incredibly talented swordslady. Her aunt is a fat slob, and her brothers all grew up to be politicians and mediocre swordsmen buoyed by their family name to far higher rank than they deserved. She defeated all three of her brothers and took their shares of the family wealth."

  Alyssa's eyes widened. Was that admiration? Adrian had to admit, he would've done the same thing Tarly had. Except he would've asked for lethal duels, to remove the threat of future challenge.

  "Her aunt was medically unfit for combat. She selected me as her champion, I was pulled off duty. I defeated Tarly, but sacrificed a bit of myself." He tapped the nick of scar tissue that'd replaced his left brow.

  "So she got a lot of money back. Isn't she happy with that?" Alyssa said.

  "She didn't get her title back, though, and that's the real prize," Adrian said.

  "But she knows you didn't have a choice. It's not your fault. She should be going after her aunt," Alyssa said. Her protests were both disheartening, and sweet.

  "Tarly doesn't care about fairness; she's angry and hurt. I personally dealt the blow that took her family from her. And I'm right here beside her, competing for a promotion and reminding her every day of her failure to live up to her great father." Adrian squeezed her hand. What he'd give to have a father he was proud of, and one who'd truly loved and supported him.

  The monorail came screeching to a halt.

  "Ready for this?" Molitor said.

  "Just one more speech for the cameras," Adrian said. Something else occurred to him. "Hey, did your son like his birthday gift?"

  "He was thrilled to have those tickets. I don't know how you found them. I got his lardy ass off my back, and got the shrew to shut up," Molitor said, and punched his shoulder. Adrian slammed into the railing, grimacing.

  Molitor grimaced with real pain. His mother had married his poor noble house into a wealthier noble house, and he had paid the price. His wife didn't love him beyond his political advantages as she worked her way through the national senate on Vulk, and his kids were ungrateful bastards.

  "Am I dressed suitably for this? I don't want to make us look trashy," Alyssa said. She frantically messed her hair into shape

  Adrian looked her over. "This is a formal event, bare arms are too casual."

  "Hang on." She yanked a dark bundle from her bag and pulled it on. It was a black jacket, with a red seal emblazoned above her left breast. Vindication, CVS-000002, victory justifies our means. Adrian recognized the coat. Last visit, he'd draped it over her sweat-drenched shoulders after a cheerleading meet to ward off the autumn frost. A year ago she'd worn it past her knees as a dress. Now it nearly fit.

  "Nice jacket," he said. He rolled up the sleeves for her. "Looking good, Aly."

  "Thanks, Dad." They linked elbows and walked inside.

  Adrian was greeted by a press of bodies, all facing away from him and towards a distant spotlight. Muted voices rumbled over the crowd. Everyone burst into booming belly laughter at some joke. Adrian threaded his way into the crowd He'd been raised in the basement of the worker's sprawl on Farrigan; claustrophobia was his home turf.

  "And there's our champion. Commander on deck," Amelie cried out.

  Over the heads of the crowd Adrian saw a lone fire, at the center of a circle of dark colored suits and gowns, pointing at him. Encouraged, he pushed his way to the center and burst into her little opening. She was grinning, silver eyeliner shining in the spotlight.

  "Hello, XO," he said. He felt the crosshairs of a couple hundred gazes on his face. He scanned the crowd. There were many dead-eyed stares from mid-level dignitaries doing the mundane duty of paper-pushers who lacked the mental capacity to move beyond their automated station, but little hostility.

  A tall man in a brown suit, cut an inch above his ankles, and green sash approached.

  "Adrian, I am Commander Evel Venko, fourth son of Lord Venko the Greater. Your XO has kept us enthralled for the past few minutes, so I'll replace my complaint at your indiscipline with a compliment on selecting and training her.” Who's this young lady, though?" He patted Alyssa's shoulder.

  "Ah, Mr. Venko, honorable guests, and fellow officers, allow me to present my daughter, Alyssa Huxton," he said.

  Alyssa beamed and took a deep bow. Amelie took her other hand.

  A shocked murmur rolled through the crowd.

  Evel smiled in turn at the teen. "A pleasure, young miss Huxton. Adrian, you've kept us waiting. A presentation is in order."

  #

  Chapter Six: The Last Speech

  Two hours later, Adrian took the podium. His eyelids were leaden.

  Knights began the ceremony with a flyby. The jockeys swept across Vindication's berth with red flares bolted to their wingtips. Jamie led mixed formation in her all-red Jotunn. Vindication was devoid of windows, so the ceremony was streamed onto the theatre's projector screen. The audience oohed and aahed. Adrian had even smiled at their freedom in racing through the stars.

  Then came the speeches. The Venko spawn spoke first. He waxed on for twenty minutes about his family's role as the protectors of Tollyon, starting with the construction of the Anchorage twelve hundred years ago and leading up through the entire family history to the modern day. Then came a collection of paper pushers in perfectly tailored suits and dresses to marginalize Vindication's role as the Founder's first flagship into a collection of platitudes. Her five-hundred year career in the Imperial fleet, murdering innocents and carrying slaves, was ignored. Their speeches were built of pre-fabbed parts with Vindication's name inserted to fill in the blanks. Adrian opened a chatroom for himself, Amelie, Alyssa, and Molitor, where they kept a tally of the individual platitudes. They counted 'cost of defending our dreams’ at least eight times. 'Symbol of our enduring freedom' was used six—or seven, according to Amelie. He locked eyes with Molitor in the front row, and mimed taking a drink, to the big man's smothered laughter.

  We should totes make this a drinking game, Alyssa wrote.

  No, Amelie replied.

  Finally, the last bespectacled woman tottered back to her seat on impractically high heels, to polite applause. Adrian stumbled forwards, and caught himself on the stand. His knees wavered like rusted hinges. In them was too many years of marching, too many high-g squats, and not nearly enough bone density. Over the bags in his eyes, he saw his prefab speech projected on the podium in all its boring glory.

  "Hello. I'm Commander Adrian Huxton, Vindication's last Commander of Ship." He got lots of bored half-stares in return. Just get through the speech and retire, do nothing strategically invalid.

  "When I took command of Vindication four years ago, I inherited the oldest legacy in the systems. She's a great ship, filled with honor and honorable crew culled from the best the fleet could offer. The cost of defending our dreams has been high, yet Vindication has always delivered, thanks to the bravery of her crew. Through their sacrifice, she has remained a symbol of our enduring freedom..." He ground to a halt. The crowd murmured. The Venko spawn sat up and narrowed his eyes.

  Adrian had once cradled a dying able crewman in his arms as blood hemorrhaged from her smashed legs. He'd said many services before jettisoning silver coffins into the void.

  And this speech insulted them all. Sometimes they'd died for petty noble feuds, and yet he wasn't sure if the Systems would make it without them. This speech ignored that.

  "And she's done so in vain," he continued. "Vindication
was built at the height of the old Human Empire as a weapon to pull humanity from the darkness. Five centuries ago she fought to stop the fall of that empire and the annihilation of humanity. She won that war against the Serpentians, but in the end, the Empire twisted and devoured itself with greed. She carried slaves by the thousands in her holds, and detonated nuclear fire. She couldn't stop humanity from doing the aliens' work by driving itself to the brink of ruin. And now here we go again. What have we done differently than the empire we overthrew? Jacob Hallard gave up everything to build us a future, and we've haven't lived up to his legacy. We still bend our subjects over to satisfy our greed. We still let the nation bleed to settle our lust for power. We've done nothing to defend our own dreams, beyond throwing fresh kids into the furnace of war. What have we done to differ ourselves from the empire that came before us? And before that, the greed that ended humanity's golden age and plunged us into the darkness? The cycle of destruction is coming around again; the sacrifice of the rank and file can't stop it. And Vindication is a witness once more. We all will live with the consequences."

  Polite applause rang through the theater. The handful of dignitaries who cared enough to pay attention weren't clapping. Adrian slumped in his seat and closed his eyes. His heartbeat faded with the ebbing adrenaline flow to a gentle thump-thump. No regrets now; it was done. He'd spend all his energy productively, plotting how to fulfill his retirement and work out Alyssa's custody agreement.

  Alyssa squeezed his hand. He squeezed back, and marveled at how fragile hers was in his calloused grasp. Together they listened to Venko's polite closing remarks.

  "I thought you'd cooled off as you climbed the ranks," Molitor said, soon as they were back in Adrian's cabin. Molitor's head grazed the ceiling.

  "Just one more outburst, for posterity," Adrian said. He yawned. Molitor grabbed him by the shoulder, and squeezed until his bones creaked.

  "Careful. The Venko spawn is pissed you ruined his perfectly choreographed ceremony."

  "I know."

  "I don't know much about Evel, but nobles in his position, lost in the succession ladder, tend to have insecurity problems and something to prove. Watch your back."

  Adrian understood instantly. He'd clearly gone off script. That was an insult to Evel.

  "Let him try." He patted his comp, where his contacts were stored.

  "Oh, I'll jump on him for you, and there's a few others who will, too." He looked over his shoulder.

  "My little love, I missed you." Amelie swept Alyssa off her feet and swung her about, heels kicking in the air.

  "I'm not little anymore," Alyssa protested, even as she giggled.

  "You'll always be my little love," Amelie said. She plastered her face with kisses. Adrian winked over her shoulder. "You've grown into such a beautiful lady."

  "I know," Alyssa said, then kissed her back with equal fury. Amelie burst into laughter.

  "Well, I might have the career, but you've got the family," Molitor said. "And a kid who's going to be more than another dead-end noble brat. Congratulations." There was no deliberate jealousy in his words, and Adrian wasn't in the mood to take offense at a close friend in a shit situation.

  "I think Amelie knows a few tall blond Volantene women for you," he said. Amelie was only average height for Volantis; something about the ice and seafood diet made the natives giants.

  "If only my house's finances could survive the divorce," Molitor said. "Forget me. Just know that all the officer clubs are still open to you."

  "Dad, how long do we have?" Alyssa said. "I mean, how long until you're deployed again? It’s usually eight weeks, right?"

  Adrian shook his head. Here it came, the big moment he'd been planning out for weeks.

  "I've changed my mind. I've done thirty years and that's enough." He unfurled the paperwork and signed, CMDR. Adrian Huxton, Anvil, PS. "There, I'm retired."

  He awaited his family's reactions.

  "You're still full of surprises," Molitor breathed.

  "Oh, Dad, I can't believe it," Alyssa said. "Are you sure about this? I know how much this means to you. The fleet was everything to you, from when you were my age until now."

  "The fleet was a job. I've got a new job, and I like this one much better," Adrian said. He pulled off his rank pins, and pinned them to her collar.

  Alyssa nodded, beaming at him. Her face blurred; his eyes grew wet.

  "Oh, Dad." She wiped his eyes with her jacket cuffs. "I love you."

  "I love you, too." They hugged. Amelie flew in and seized both in her powerful embrace.

  Molitor slapped a hand on Adrian's shoulders, stumbling their entire group.

  #

  Chapter Seven: Undertow

  Marves 30, 1040 IE

  Adrian awoke to stillness in the dark. He was sprawled across his couch with his jacket and boots off. He clasped a slim hand in his bigger, calloused one.

  Alyssa was curled up at the other end, back rising and falling in rhythmic slumber and a smile across her peaceful face. Her comp was still open on their chess game, providing the only light. Curtains of dust spiraled through its blue glow, twisting end over end as they glided about the silent room. His sword lay under the coffee table, collecting that dust. Vindication's familiar angry rumble that'd shake it clean was gone; her reactors slept at long last. .

  A door creaked open, and a tall redheaded figure slipped out.

  "Amy?" Adrian said.

  "Hey, love," she whispered. "Is Aly—?"

  "Out. Shh." He got his legs beneath him. Alyssa keeled over towards him. He caught and lowered her to the couch. She stirred.

  "Back to sleep, little love," he whispered. She nodded, and sealed her eyes once more. He searched up his own jacket from the floor and tucked her in.

  He and Amelie slipped into the kitchen and lowered the sound screen.

  "Enjoying your first night of full-time parenting?" Amelie said. Adrian studied her; she was snug in her dress shirt and tights. She grabbed a bottle of vodka off the top of his fridge, and poured two shot glasses.

  "What time..." He rubbed his eyes.

  "It's 0500. I was just getting some work done."

  Adrian blinked, "Amy, what work could you be possibly doing?"

  "Well, first, as the last COS of Vindication, I signed you a permanent license to stay aboard. You'll need a printed pass on you, but it will be done. Second, I got some interesting news from a contact in the Tyrant's Crescent." She tipped the glass back and drained it in one gulp. Her cheeks flushed scarlet.

  "The moment the feared Adrian Huxton departed, all the separatists rose up in rebellion, and the Serpentians crossed the border?" Adrian said. He downed half of his drink. Hot liquid coursed through his throat, stabbing at every nerve on the way down. The sensation was reassuringly familiar.

  "I haven't heard anything that definite. Fleet Command is frantic about a situation in the region, and there's heavy fighting going on in Elodie and a couple other worlds. That's all I know. Wicked Creek and the other Expanse regions are expected to mobilize and dispatch reinforcements at the Anchorage's next day cycle." The fifteen regions were shaped like a horseshoe and divided into three greater areas: The Expanse, the sparsely populated and impoverished five western arm regions, with Tyrant's Crescent at its tip bordering Wild Space; The Metropolis of six regions, densely populated in hive slum, and the Core Worlds, where House Verger stood guard over the fortress of Grahm and the border between the Systems and the ever-silent Empire.

  Around that were the half-dozen smaller human nations run either by kings, or corporate fiefdoms providing blood for profit. Then were the aliens, going about their own business. The Duphain and Kiiren were the only biologically capable of communicating with humans. Then were the independent worlds, and wild space. What happened there stayed the fuck there.

  Adrian frowned. If all his work and the sacrifices of his comrades came undone, he'd be heartbroken. It'd be further proof that the United Systems was screwed, and he'd thrown t
hirty years and thousands of lives away delaying the inevitable.

  "On a happier note, I've got one more thing."

  "What's up?" Adrian said. Her grin was so bright he swore it glowed in the dark. He took a guess based on that.

  "We can be together, in the open," he said. She rewarded him with a kiss.

  "Exactly. We're going to figure something out. There's always a path to victory."

  "You're sure about this, right?" Adrian said.

  "Why wouldn't I be?" Amelie looked hurt.

  "You want to marry a lowborn with no parentage, few friends, and ten years on you?" he said.

  "I ran off to the fleet to get out of the political game and my parents’ scheming. Once there I found someone who refused to bend for anyone, who had no fear of the effect his opinions had—but a soft and intelligent touch, enough to nurture the people he cared for. And he came with a beautiful daughter. I want to marry Adrian Huxton." She paused. "And why do you want to marry a noble woman with a fortune in the bank?"

  "You balance me out. Every time I'm angry, or the universe gets too cold, I find you there."

  "Do we agree to love each other?"

  There was a knock at the front door. Adrian stopped short.

  There was another knock at the door.

  "Who would bother us at this hour?" Amelie said.

  "No one good," Adrian said. He stood and departed.

  "Dad?" Alyssa gasped, and opened her eyes.

  "Back to sleep, little love," Amelie said as she scampered into his bedroom to find her uniform.

  Adrian got the door. He found himself staring down a grey-haired woman in a black business dress. She gave him a stern expression of contained, directed fury. Six prefects backed her, hands on their rapier hilts. What this intrusion was about didn't matter; all that did was that this woman meant business of hostile kind. Adrian patted his hip, and found it naked of weapons, his gladius taunting him on the floor

  "Hello," he said.

  "Germaine Olquin, Tollyon Social Services. I've received multiple reports of physical abuse of your daughter by your hand, and am here to collect," she said. She pulled out a sheet of plastic bearing a justice's gold seal.