A War Most Modest (JNC Edition)

by Hiroyuki Morioka

  The error he’d committed became very apparent to him. In fact, it was an Abh expression: “Using antimatter for propellant.” An axiom against profligacy and waste.

  And the princess had put that old saying into action, thereby crafting a poor man’s substitute antiproton cannon.

  “Gah!” Blood welled up from the Baron’s mouth. In the short span left before his final breath, his heart brimmed with the princess’s praises.

  The Lady of Febdash flew at maximum acceleration to escape the star system, and Lafier changed trajectory toward the 11th Factory. Since the Baron’s ship had struck the majority of the antimatter fuel, they had no choice but to press forward at a slower pace.

  “Is it over?” Jinto’s upper body peeked from behind the seat.

  “It’s over.” She looked up at his face. At some point during her sharp maneuvers, he must have bumped his eye, for there was a bruise right below one.

  “Did you kill him?”

  “I did,” she said limply. She was exhausted. Her own voice sounded like a stranger’s to her. “The transport ship is alive. It’s currently accelerating at full power. I just can’t imagine the man inside it is alive,” she said, facing the old man beside her. “My condolences, Baron Emeritus.”

  “It’s all right, Fïac. All’s fair in war,” he said, taking it in stride.

  “‘Your condolences’? That’s it?” There was anger in Jinto’s voice.

  “What are you getting angry for, Jinto?” she asked, dumbfounded.

  “You just killed someone! And now you’re acting like you had nothing to do with it...”

  “It was him or us.”

  “I know that! And to tell you the truth, I’m relieved. But you could at least act, I don’t know, sorrier about it...”

  “What are you talking about!? Why should I have to act sorry? I just fulfilled my mission, nothing more, nothing less. And I’ve never felt the least bit guilty!”

  “I get you. Don’t think I’m not grateful you saved my life. Still though, I would’ve never believed you took people’s lives so lightly...”

  “I do NOT take people’s lives lightly!” To her, his reaction was unthinkable.

  Jinto looked at her like she was some kind of strange monster, and that made her chest burn. It was like he’d become a completely different person — one she refused to let call her “Lafier.”

  “But you don’t look shaken by what happened at all.”

  “Why should I?”

  “Because that’s what ought to happen when you kill somebody.”

  “What good would that do?”

  “None, but still...”

  “You’re not making any sense!” she said.

  “You’re right, it doesn’t make sense!” he acknowledged. “That said, I think it’s only human to feel something. And right now? You’re being ice cold.”

  “Is that right? Well, I’ve never pretended I was a warm and sunny person.” But her actual mood was tipping into a very dangerous direction. Jinto was speaking outrageous twaddle. Why did she need to lose her composure over doing what she had to do?

  “Look—”

  “That’s enough, boy,” cut in Sruf. “There’s nothing for you to lose your head over.”

  So that’s it. She finally understood. Jinto hadn’t completely lost his mind. It was just that he was the one who was shaken up. But why?

  “I mean—” started Jinto.

  “You just didn’t want to see Her Highness kill a man, am I right?” said Sruf with a mirthful tone.

  “He saw him die? But how is that possible?”

  “It’s a turn of phrase, Fïac. He was with you the moment you took his life, which amounts to the same.”

  “But why didn’t he want to see me kill him?”

  “That, you should ask him yourself, Your Highness.”

  So she did. “Is what the Baron Emeritus said true?”

  “Yeah... kinda, I guess.” Jinto avoided her eyes and scratched a cheek.

  “Why?”

  “Uhhh... that’s...”

  “I don’t need to remind you this is war, I hope?”

  “I know that.”

  “Is there something about my having won in battle that has you scandalized?”

  “No way, if we’d lost, that’d be the real scandal.”

  “Then why?”

  “That’s, uh... that’s tough to answer. In any case...” Jinto hung his head, which was a difficult posture to maintain in such a cramped space. “I’m sorry. I ran my mouth, and everything I said was stupid. You’re a soldier; you have nothing to be ashamed of. And I need to express my thanks better. You saved me.”

  Lafier stared at him for a while. She hadn’t gotten an answer to her question, but she decided not to pursue it further, for the Jinto she knew had returned before her eyes.

  “I forgive you. You’d better be grateful for it,” she said bluntly.

  “I am! Thank you!” Jinto beamed.

  “Now that that’s settled,” said Sruf, picking up the phone, “I hope you don’t mind if I take back my domain.” There was no dark pall behind the former baron’s words. If he was sad about his son’s demise, he didn’t show it.

  But Lafier heard what the old man murmured as he gripped the phone, loud and clear.

  “That idiot...” Those two words were infused with anguish enough.

  Couldn’t be easier, thought Seelnay.

  Earlier, she’d entertained the worst-case scenario — that the hatch itself was gone — but that was a needless concern. Turned over to the side of the hatch’s circular opening lay its circular metal door. It looked quite heavy, pinned to the ceiling of the estate through artificial gravity. The four burn marks around its circumference informed her that it had been opened through the emergency protocol.

  She knelt down to inspect the hatch, and confirmed that it bore no cracks or fissures. Then she got back up and looked behind her.

  There were her four stopgap assistants, dressed in unfamiliar pressurized garb, and all the more disgruntled for it. They only ever donned them twice a year for disaster drills, which didn’t involve them actually popping into space. Seelnay worked in the vacuum on a daily basis, and so her level of experience out here dwarfed their own.

  Three of the Baron’s lovers were lugging a steel plate, furnished to plug the opening in case the hatch door couldn’t be the repaired. The plate would have been many times inferior in doing so, of course.

  The fourth and final assistant of hers, Arsa from the homemakers’ office, was behind the other three, carrying a large tube on her back. It was the sealing glue’s container.

  “You can toss the plate,” Seelnay communicated wirelessly to her temporary helpers.

  “Toss it? Where?” asked Cnyusa, one of the Baron’s clothing assistants.

  “Anywhere’s fine. Over there,” said Seelnay. What a dummy. You really needed to ask?

  They dropped the metal sheet without a word.

  “Lift this up for me instead,” said Seelnay, pointing to the hatch door.

  The three traipsed closer, moving jerkily thanks to the pressure suits, but one of them turned around. Semune’s voice reverberated through Seelnay’s pressure helmet: “Think you could give us a hand?”

  Seelnay paid no heed. “Just shut up and do it. Every second we’re out here is another second the air’s leaking out.”

  “Yeah, thanks to your beloved royal princess,” muttered Lulune.

  “I won’t tolerate any badmouthing of Fïac Lartnér,” said Seelnay, arms akimbo.

  “You can be as intolerant as you want,” Semune fired back. “You ought to be shaking in your boots for when His Lordship comes back.”

  But Seelnay flinched not. “I’ll remember to do that.”

  “Work first, fight later,” interceded Cnyusa.

  “Yes, how could I deny your great wisdom?” groused Semune. But still the three set about their work. They picked up the hatch door, positioned it per Seelnay’s orders,
and inserted it over the hole, sealing what had become a very slight breeze.

  “Arsa!” shouted Seelnay. “Lend me the sealing glue.”

  “Ah, right, here you are.” Arsa handed down the container.

  Seelnay took it in hand, versed its aperture on the hatch’s rim, and opened the valve.

  The white gel steadily plugged up the slight gap between the door and the hole.

  In reality, the job needed welding, since the sealing glue likely wouldn’t hold once standard pressurization levels returned to the sector below, but laymen could hardly be allowed to wield a torch, and this was too wide an area for Seelnay to be welding alone, anyway. Space welding was not Seelnay’s specialty.

  They needed to let the atmospheric circulators preserve a low level of pressurization in the Retirement Zone (as best they could) until such time the situation cooled down a little and they became able to make more lasting repairs.

  “May we take our leave now, my lady?” snarked Semune, who had nothing else to do.

  “You may not,” said Seelnay curtly. Granted, she didn’t need assistants anymore, but the idea of them getting to relax while she continued working didn’t sit well with her.

  “This is a joke!” Semune exploded. “It’s not like we’re evening DOING anything anyway! C’mon, let’s go back, and leave it all to Ms. Fix It.”

  “Hmph. Fine, do as you please,” Seelnay hissed.

  “Don’t worry, we intend to,” said Semune.

  “You can’t breathe in a vacuum.”

  “Everyone knows that, stupid.”

  Just when the Baron’s bedmates were about to make good on their word and head back, a male voice Seelnay had never heard before reached them through the frequency that pervaded the whole domain.

  “This is the former baron of Febdash speaking. Please, servant staff of my domain, you must listen. My son, Atausryac ssynéc-Atausr, Lymh Faibdacr Clüarh, has perished in battle.”

  “Liar!” Semune shrieked over the broadcast, but there was no way Sruf could have heard her backbiting.

  The announcement continued: “It is truly lamentable. I can’t say he was a good son, but my son he was. And I hardly need to remind you he was your lord. Everybody will need to make peace with their own personal feelings. If you’d like to depart this domain, I won’t stop you. I’ll think about what sort of aid is in my power to provide you as I thank you for your years of loyalty to him, rest his soul. If you want to move to another bhodagh (grandeedom) or institution of the Empire, I’ll support you in any way I can. And if you want to go down to a terrestrial world, I’ll give you a lump sum. I promise to help each one of you according to your own needs, to the best of my ability. Of course, I more than welcome anyone who doesn’t mind staying and pitching in to rebuild. But I’m getting ahead of myself. I’m sure you’re already aware, but right now, the Empire is under attack. The war is bound to resolve itself soon, since I have faith in the Star Forces, and I implore you to put your faith in them, too. I’d be delighted if you could accept my provisional governance until things revert back to normal. As for what lies beyond, I plan on deciding the future of this domain together with all of you, including its golciac (successor).”

  For a moment, Seelnay’s hands froze. Then she tuned the broadcast out, and she silently resumed her handiwork. When the announcement concluded, she cut the transmission. Having to keep listening to that sobbing in the background would have grated on her.

  The sealing of the hatch was complete. Seelnay stood up.

  The Baron’s dead? So what? I’m gonna be a servant of the House of Crybh!

  Meanwhile, in the steerer’s room of the connecting vessel, a commotion had sprung up.

  “What do you mean we won’t make it in time!?” he shouted, stupefied.

  The vessel was cruising at around 1 daimon of G-force, and Jinto was sitting by the door to the air lock room, as usual.

  “It means what it sounds like,” said Lafier. “We used up almost all of our fuel in that battle, so we can’t accelerate very much. It’s only natural it’ll take more time than normal. Even if we take the shortest route to Sfagnoff, we’ll arrive six hours after the enemy does, by Sfagnoff time.”

  “Always one to stay cool-headed during times like these, aren’t you,” said Jinto. He still couldn’t grasp Lafier’s personality. “Even though you’re so quick to anger otherwise.”

  At that, Lafier cocked an eyebrow.

  “See? You’re getting touchy again.”

  “Does my ‘cool-headedness’ annoy you!?”

  “That’s not what I’m saying.”

  “Then what ARE you saying?”

  “Uhh...” In all honestly, not even he knew what he was getting at, or why Lafier’s composure rubbed him the wrong way.

  However, a moment’s self-reflection yielded the answer.

  In the end, her coolness under fire raked at his buried sense of inferiority. If she’d been an adult like Sruf, he’d have thought her dependable. But here he was, counting on a younger girl to be his protector...

  Though his sense of pride wasn’t as overweening as Abhkind’s, it was still there to encumber him.

  “Now now, you two,” cut in Sruf to rescue Jinto. “Let’s focus on what’s important: What will Your Highness do from here on out? Might you be intending, even now, to head for Sfagnoff?”

  “That is my mission,” she replied.

  “But Fïac, the smallest mistake could fling you right into the middle of the warzone.” Then, the former baron caught himself when he realized: “Forgive me, you must already be quite aware of the risks. Still, if Your Highness so desires it, you are very welcome to stay here until the hubbub dies down. I fear we lack all the comforts you may be used to, but it’s something. Needless, if you choose to stay, I won’t treat you the way he did.”

  “I thank you for your generosity. However...” But now Lafier caught herself. She turned to Jinto. “What do you think?”

  “Hmm...” Jinto was at a loss.

  On one hand, rushing for Sfagnoff in the knowledge that the enemy ships would get there first anyway would be fairly stupid. Sruf was right; they could find themselves in an active warzone. Besides, if the Empire triumphed, then there was no need to hurry. If the enemy won, then that would be an absolute nightmare scenario.

  On the other hand, he wanted to get out of the barony as quickly as possible. That desire had little rational reasoning behind it; rather, it was born of a feeling of unease.

  After some contemplation, Jinto decided only to stop contemplating. “If I’m your cargo, then I don’t have an opinion.”

  “You can be quite stubborn yourself.”

  “Look, I’m sorry. I just don’t know what to do, either,” Jinto confessed. “But if you really want my opinion, I’ve got a feeling staying here would be smarter.”

  “Noted,” she said, still undecided. “What do you think, Baron Emeritus? Should we stay?”

  “If I can be honest, Fïac, I don’t know, either.”

  “Lonh, you can’t be serious!” yelled Jinto. “Didn’t you just ask us to stay!?”

  The former baron simply shrugged. “Not to be cold, boy, but I don’t hold myself responsible for either of you. Besides, in space, where information takes time to get anywhere, there are times ya can’t make an educated evaluation until after the fact. For all we know, the enemy might even come here, since the barony could be in their sights should they get chased off Sfagnoff. And if that comes to pass, this place’ll stop being your refuge. Going to Sfagnoff could, in fact, be the way.”

  “Then why’d you encourage us to stay?”

  “I didn’t encourage anything, boy. I was just telling ya I’m willing to play host if ya wanna lengthen your stay. I won’t try to stop ya if you’d rather leave. It’s all up to you and her now.”

  “I’m going,” said Lafier. “I was always told that if I can’t decide between stopping or moving forward, I should choose to move forward.”

  “Ah...
” That’s probably wise, he thought.

  “What will you do?” asked Lafier. It was a question he never thought he’d hear.

  “What’ll I do?”

  “If you want, I can leave you here.”

  “Don’t even kid!” It had never even occurred to him separating from her was an option. An anger he couldn’t name welled up in his chest. “You’ve gotta finish the job and take your cargo to Sfagnoff!”

  “And you said I’m quick to anger,” Lafier grinned.

  Her smile seemed genuine... or at least, that was what he wanted to think.

  Chapter 4: The Laiblatélach (Journeyers)

  They had plenty of bizz (propellant) left, so once they’d resupplied their antimatter fuel at the factory, they turned back to the barony at full acceleration.

  The ship decelerated as it approached the spaceport. They touched down on the pier designated for a connecting vessel. Unlike most landing procedures, the landing gear wasn’t attached to the vessel, but rather located on the pier itself. That made it a mite harder to pull off, but thanks to the help of her computing crystals and her frocragh, she managed it without putting a scratch on its hull.

  “I’m afraid entering from this pier isn’t advisable, Fïac,” reported Sruf.

  “Why?”

  “The servants who were working in concert with my son are there. They’re likely still loyal to him. They’ve gathered below us for some end. As such, I’ve taken the liberty of trapping them there.”

  “How many are there?”

  “Let’s see... eleven, it seems,” he said, glowering at the screen. “That’s a fifth of the entire staff here. And they’re most likely armed, which would make them the greatest military force in the history of my barony.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re raring for a fight?” said Jinto, worried.

  “Is that what how you think of me?” replied Lafier, less than pleased. “I don’t enjoy battle. I only fight when I must.”

  But from the look in Jinto’s eyes, he wasn’t so sure.