Winterhome

by Blaze Ward

  This new boat was the same hull-type that many rich nobles used as personal yachts, converting some of the cargo space aft into extra crew quarters and rearranging bulkheads to make larger cabins for themselves.

  Tom had personally signed the paperwork classifying their old freighter as a warship for valuation purposes. Again, he could have raised a stink, but he was pretty sure both Em and Jessica would have words for him if he had. Plus, Lan and Kiel had worked with Kosnett’s folks once they understood how things would shake out.

  Tom might personally loathe what they represented, but the man and woman themselves were okay people.

  The male was nearly in tears, watching a year of effort and waiting come to a happy end point.

  “Beautiful,” he whispered, holding hands with his wife and staring out the porthole.

  “Thank you,” Kiel said to Kosnett. “A year ago, we doubted.”

  “A year ago, so did I,” the Command Centurion’s voice got rough with emotions. “But for your help, none of this would have been possible. But for your standards, it would not have turned out the same.”

  “Our standards?” Lan asked.

  Tom marveled at the trust and friendship that had blossomed between the two sides, watching the smiles from all the RAN folks. It reminded him that he worked for Jessica now, so anything might be possible.

  “At each station,” Kosnett said. “At each decision, I was reminded that there were more options than simply violence. With Doctor Au, she finally became convinced that she might serve evil, simply by not questioning the will of a God, regardless of its orders. As one does not. Yours was the ethical standard that infected all of us, not to worship or fear that god, in turn, but to treat one another as humans, and to remember that our humanity stretched across the boundaries of culture that separate us. We retained the moral and ethical high ground by never ceding it. Never cutting corners and allowing our baser natures to run free. For that, I thank you. As does my crew.”

  Tom was surprised at the ping of emotion that he felt in his chest. He had thought those things were forever burned out of himself by now. Maybe he was wrong?

  “And now?” Lan asked.

  “Now you will return home,” Tom commanded, understanding that a line needed to be drawn in the sand as a permanent demarcation. “We have tuned your new vessel to the highest standards possible, and are loading it with cargo, but you will become the enemy again soon. My crew will board to fly you to the edge of the planetary system, and then debark so you can return to Buran space. I will not say you are welcome to return here, as I consider you enemies of my nation and my Emperor, but I will also issue instructions to the locals to treat you as a neutral vessel, if you call again. And I speak with the voice of the Grand Admiral himself, and Jessica Keller.”

  Tom was as surprised at his words as the others. An hour ago, it had been his intention to order them to leave and never return. But that would not be right.

  Both aliens bowed formally to him, and then more deeply to Kosnett, but Tom understood that he was the terrible ogre, and Phil and his crew had turned into friends.

  “What will you call her?” Kosnett asked them in a lighter voice.

  Lan turned to Kiel and smiled with a mischievous glint in his eyes that reminded Tom of the looks he and Karoline would share when they had an inside joke.

  “We had considered several names,” the man smiled wickedly. “Things like 405, or Queen Anne’s Revenge, or perhaps even Kosnett were entirely inappropriate, to say nothing of the security troubles if we called it Mansi. In the end, one name struck as the perfect way to remember our time with you, and the possibility of finding truth and honor among the barbarians. As we did with our friends.”

  “Indeed?” Kosnett smiled with them.

  “Indeed,” Kiel agreed. “We will call the vessel Lighthouse, for all the obvious as well as the subtle meanings that only those of us who were there would know.”

  Tom watched Phil bow to the twosome, as did the other three officers, all of whom had remained silent until now.

  “I will let Bok and Avelina know,” Phil said. “They will appreciate the joke.”

  Tom didn’t get the laughter that ensued, but he didn’t figure that it mattered.

  “I will see you aboard shortly,” Tom said to Lan and Kiel after things settled and turned serious again.

  He nodded to the group and departed, working his way around the hallways to where his men were holding the boarding gate. The others would be along shortly, and Second Squadron would head out.

  Inside, Tom made his way forward to the bridge of the ship that would be known as Lighthouse. Two of his men were completing pre-flight checklists, and another several should be aft, stowing the cargo and checking that all the systems were running nominal.

  Kosnett and folks joined them about ten minutes later. The bridge was overly crowded with all the bodies, but everyone pressed themselves flat against the outer and rear walls to make space, so it wasn’t all that bad.

  Two seats, side by side and facing forward on the uppermost of three decks. Two more jumpseats, facing outward port and starboard, could be lowered and activated, if you had a larger crew, or the ship had a military profile. Tom had seen a version where gunner and shields were back here, with commander and pilot forward.

  Tom looked around and counted noses. And smiles, like this was the start of a new adventure.

  He considered that anything might be possible.

  “Pilot, are we ready to launch?” Tom asked louder than was necessary.

  “Affirmative, Admiral,” the man replied.

  “Open a channel to Valiant,” he ordered, waiting for the man to nod.

  “Valiant,” Charlie replied. “d’Noir here.”

  “Valiant, this is Admiral Provst, aboard IFV Lighthouse,” he called the cadence slowly. “All vessels stand by for departure.”

  “All ships read green, Lighthouse,” Charlie replied.

  Tom smiled. That included RAN CS-405 and IFV Persephone today, as well as Second Squadron and a pair of RAN Assault Carriers.

  He supposed that operational security demanded that Lan and Kiel be confirmed to be away before he left, so they could not report on his task force, but at this point, it really didn’t matter. He would be where he was going before the aliens could convince anyone that they had actionable intelligence.

  And Tom still figured it was an even bet that the bureaucrats back home in Buran threw the pair in jail and confiscated the transport before listening. It was too crazy a tale to believe, except that Tom had read excerpts of Kosnett’s logs. And personally interviewed Doctor Sam Au before letting her go.

  Tom looked around once to set this image in his memory.

  “Pilot, take us out,” he commanded. “All vessels conform to Lighthouse and form up in lines astern.”

  The flight didn’t take all that long, even with time spent organizing his various teams to make everything pretty. Tom made sure his shuttle came alongside first, so his departure would free up Kosnett’s folks to have their own emotional farewells without him cramping things.

  Kosnett’s shuttle docked as Tom’s pulled away, and he probably made it to his flag bridge about the same time that Kosnett did his.

  Charlie smiled as Tom settled.

  “So they turned out to be human enough, after all?” Charlie asked.

  Tom shrugged.

  “They’re just people, Charlie,” he said. “Civilians, at that. My beef is with their lords and the god that thinks he should dictate terms to the rest of the galaxy. Those folks I’m going to crush like bugs.”

  Charlie nodded, as much to himself as to Tom.

  “Second Squadron, this is Provst, aboard Valiant. I have the flag,” Tom said as he activated the comm. “Standby to jump. We’re going hunting.”

  Part Five

  Chapter LXXXV

  Chapter LXI

  Date of the Republic May 19, 403 IFV Indianapolis, Lighthouse Station

&nbs
p; Jessica marveled at the sight on her console, as Indianapolis accompanied Vanguard’s Squadron into orbit above what was apparently the newest Imperial colony, embedded deep in Buran’s Altai sector like a tick in a dog’s fur.

  Lighthouse Station.

  Second Squadron was already here, and had been for about a week. Vo hadn’t combat-dropped his legion onto the surface, but he hadn’t slacked, either. Arott would be sailing in shortly with his forward base, all set to turn it into a proper orbital facility.

  Once they started growing food on the surface, she would need far fewer runs home to keep everyone fed. Then a mining and metals processing facility like Moirrey had helped finance on Thuringwell, and Jessica had a good chunk of her infrastructure behind enemy lines for as long as she could keep it secret.

  And CS-405 had made it home. Better, they had done it in the most adventurous way imaginable, as she had read from Phil Kosnett’s logs.

  “Jessica,” Enej said to draw her eyes and smile up. “Your shuttle will be docking in about ten minutes.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “You hold the fort while we’re down on the surface.”

  Enej nodded, returning the smile, as she unbuckled and rose.

  Back to her cabin for a satchel filled with mail from Tom Provst, Em, and Torsten. Plus a letter from Casey, but that was entirely personal and she just wanted it handy to savor tonight.

  Because this was an Imperial affair today, she wore red. She would, after all, be officially meeting the Proviso Duke of this planet, however young the woman might be. She was still a female Duke. The first, as far as Jessica knew.

  It was a generation of Firsts in Fribourg.

  And since she was leaving the ship, her squad of bodyguards accompanied her. It would have been nice to have someone like Amala Bhattacharya with her, but that woman was still at St. Legier, keeping Seeker safe and having her own adventures. Still, Jessica had Marcelle and Willow, to go with the team of Imperial ship’s marines Reif insisted upon.

  The shuttle from Vanguard was a little packed, but hers was the last stop picking up bodies from the corvettes. She noted the fierce smiles from the men and women around her, as they all thought about seeing their lost duckling again.

  The flight down was quiet, so she read, tucked back in a corner with Willow next to her and Marcelle across. The details made for interesting reading, even the fifth or eighth time she had reviewed the material.

  The war was about to get intense. Not desperate, but Fribourg had done something so out of character that Jessica figured she would get all the blame anyway.

  Even if it had been hatched by Yan and Moirrey. Plus an imposter that had accompanied the flight.

  Summer Ulfsson might have made herself look Jessica’s age, and turned into a graying blond when she had been a freckled redhead before, but Jessica knew those eyes. Those cheekbones.

  And Moirrey had to know her as well, so Pint-sized had approved the Last of the Immortals secretly joining the mission. Nobody else would know the woman on sight, except Marcelle.

  Jessica’s tall assistant had just raised an eyebrow when Jessica had mentioned that Pops had a new girlfriend, like Why was that important enough to bother with?

  They had been alone in Jessica’s office, so she had also shown Marcelle the picture, and watched the woman’s normally impassive face blanch. But they never spoke of it in public. The two of them, along with Moirrey and Summer, probably represented the biggest conspiracy against humanity that anyone could imagine. Even Enej and Saana Robles only knew that such a conspiracy might exist, but didn’t know any of the critical details. The ones that would get them executed.

  And hopefully Jessica would get to meet Suvi one more time, before she finally did disappear from human history.

  Marcelle reached out and touched her knee now, bringing Jessica back to the present as they were about to land. She brought up a quick console view and watched as the shuttle was on final approach.

  The huge lake ran nearly end to end in the otherwise closed-off valley, with one deep gorge draining the basin.

  Voices picked up noise now, going from a murmur to a low roar. Several shuttles were already on the ground, representing Second Squadron, as well as a D-class boat Kosnett’s team had stolen, RAN Persephone, commanded by a former Imperial pilot, former slave, and enlisted Centurion named Granville Veitengruber.

  She had instructed Tom and his folks not to make this a formal welcoming ceremony, and he had apparently passed the word along. As Jessica exited the shuttle, she was just part of a mob of command centurions and security marines.

  She was not prepared for the two people that met her.

  They were on horseback, both of them. A young woman and a much-older man, standing their mounts side by side. They dismounted as Jessica got closer, and she got her first good look at Bok Battenhouse and Avelina Indovina, First Colonist and Duke, respectively.

  The woman was young, but held herself well, surrounded by folks so much more senior and older, when she was technically just an Able Spacer on detached duty for now.

  Battenhouse was much older, in his early sixties and close to retiring after a lifetime of service. He had claimed the entire north half of the valley as his personal ranch, which included this first starport.

  The locals led this mob to a building on one side of the quad. It was a meeting hall that hadn’t been on the plans or in the images Jessica had seen of the earlier work, so it must have gone up in the last week. Horses got tied to horizontal posts apparently set for exactly that purpose.

  Up the wooden steps and inside, she could smell the still-drying paint and see places where the finishing touches were still to be done, but they had raised this place in a day, just like a barn back home. Jessica had seen a few of those at her aunt and uncle’s farm, or their friends, when she was young.

  And now the palace had a meeting space for visitors and trade missions. Jessica suspected that Avelina would add a hotel on her side of the lake, once things settled down. What many needed to know was how much time Vo’s men would be training, and how much would be spent in barracks, where they might work on their carpentry skills. A thousand soldiers with hammers and saws could accomplish an amazing amount in a short time.

  Phil Kosnett waited in the middle of the floor when Jessica and her group came through the front door. He rose from the table where he had been seated with other commanders and got utterly engulfed by the much taller Tomas Kigali. Others joined the hug.

  She waited and organized the various bodyguard units: hers, as well as those belonging to Provst or Denis, to line the walls and make themselves scarce.

  Vo was here, along with his First Officer, Alan Katche. She gave the big man a hug and shook the other’s hand. She could do that now. They had all grown up, finally, she supposed.

  Once Kosnett emerged, she walked close and startled the man with hug as well.

  “Welcome home, and good job,” she said, watching Phil blush.

  He hadn’t been one of her students, but someone Petia had originally selected, giving the man the choice of a scout corvette on the war frontier or a teaching assignment somewhere, when there were suddenly more bodies than command slots available.

  Based on his last year, what the man really deserved was a fourth stripe as a Fleet Centurion, and his own raiding squadron of cruisers and marines. Maybe she would suggest it to both Petia and Em, if the war continued to stretch on like this.

  Finally, after twenty minutes of chatter as everyone met their counterparts, the group settled down at the various tables. There were nearly forty men and women present, and that just represented the Captains and Command Centurions of the various units.

  Jessica rose and moved to where everyone could see her.

  “If both people beside you are wearing the same color uniform, stand up and move,” she ordered lightly. “This is one team, and I want you to think of yourselves that way.”

  More chaos. RAN folks immediately surged out of their s
eats and looked around, while the Imperials took a moment to grasp the finer point she was trying to make. They were still a little hidebound, even for this group.

  Finally, back to something calm. More or less.

  She pointed to Bok and Duke Avelina, both wearing civilian garb and tucked off to one side of the group.

  “Our hosts, Bok Battenhouse, CS-405’s former Boatswain who now owns this side of the lake, and Duke Avelina Indovina of Lighthouse Station,” Jessica formally introduced them to the group. And made it clear that they were not just handy civilians.

  A quick round of applause and noise that settled down.

  “Now, some important news that nobody else in this room is aware of,” Jessica continued.

  Around her, heads leaned closer, almost as if a tide was coming in.

  “Many of you know Yan Bedrov, who did most of the design work for the various warships overhead,” she said. “He and Pops Nakamura, Crown Designer of Corynthe, have helped Lady Moirrey of Kermode build a new weapon. They are heading up a team of specialists to test and possibly use the weapon as we speak. Our orders from the Grand Admiral and the Imperial Throne are to step up our actions against Buran’s fleets here over the next six to twelve months.”

  The leaning in had turned to a low, almost unconscious growl from the group.

  “Em wants all eyes focused on us, so Moirrey can complete her mission,” Jessica said, staring frankly at the men and women looking back. “That means risk. At Severnaya Zemlya, we had surprise and overwhelming force, and still got mauled pretty good. But that was a main sector base, as well.”

  She found Phil Kosnett at one table, with Kigali on one side and the newest commander, Veitengruber, on the other. She pointed at the group.

  “Phil Kosnett rescued an amazing number of men from a prison planet recently,” Jessica turned to make sure everyone was looking at the former slave. “We’re not going back to Mansi today, but soon. Instead, we’re going to hit Barnaul. It was the first intelligence and food raid by Queen Anne’s Revenge, commanded by Kosnett’s Second Officer, Siobhan Skokomish. The whole of the colony is a small city, next to a huge pit mine. Our expectation is that most of the men in that mine are either Buran’s criminals or captured Imperial sailors being worked slowly to death underground. We’re going to fix that, either way, by destroying the colony.”