by Auryn Hadley
"My First Officer, ma'am, Karim Chalybs. He can operate the unit nearly as efficiently as I can."
"I see." The woman returned to her chair.
"And," another man stood, addressing the Lieutenant, "you believe that your unit is sufficient to eliminate the threat of the Empire?"
"No sir, not alone. We are but one part of the military, simply a special operations unit. Our expertise lies in infiltration and extraction."
"I see. And my records show me that you are a Lieutenant, but you have refused nine offers of promotion. Why is that?" the man continued.
"Sir, most of those promotions came with conditions I simply could not accept. I am aware of my own limitations, and commanding a small unit is the extent of it. Accepting a promotion simply for the pay or prestige, placing me in a position I am poorly suited to, does not help the Conglomerate."
"I see. And yet you have assured us that your men are the best?" the man persisted. Sal wondered where this was headed.
"They are, sir. Our records indicate a combat efficiency well above the normal, and our mission success rate is nearly perfect," Blaec replied.
"Nearly. Yes, you only have one failure on your records."
"Yes, sir. That was six years ago, before I had many of these soldiers."
"I see," the man said, seating himself. "Was that before your unit became all iliri?"
"Yes, sir."
"Lieutenant Doll." Another man rose. "I have a report here of your unit clearing out nearly sixty heavy cavalry and twenty pikemen in the Escean Pass. Is this correct?"
"Sir, that report should mention that we were assisted by two other units. The Black Blades was only a small force in that battle." Blaec's voice was purely professional.
"And yet the records indicate clearly that without your unit, the battle would have been lost." The man smiled as if victorious.
"It is possible, sir. It is not my place to make those assumptions."
"I understand, Lieutenant. What I want to know, though, is how many of those men your Black Blades eliminated."
"Fifty-four, sir."
"You're saying that the eight of you removed fifty-four heavy cavalry?" The surprise was evident in his voice.
"No, sir. We removed thirty-eight heavy cavalry, fourteen pikemen, and two teamsters armed with crossbows."
"How?" the politician asked.
"We were mounted, sir."
"I see. Is this typical with iliri soldiers?"
"I wouldn't know. Iliri typically have been spread throughout the military, not coordinated to make the most of our strengths."
"Our?" the man asked.
Blaec looked easily into the man's eyes. "I am half iliri, raised in the iliran traditions."
"I see." He returned to his chair.
The politicians began to talk amongst themselves. The Black Blades stood at attention, unmoving at the front of the audience hall. They could hear conversations hum behind them, but the room made it a homogeneous soft noise that prevented the listener from picking out specific lines of talk. The wait seemed to go on forever, and Sal felt her right foot begin to tingle.
I wish they'd get it over with already, she sent to Cyno beside her.
Yeh, me too. My neck is startin' ta hurt, he sent back.
Your neck?
Yeh. I dunno why, jus' does.
My foot's asleep, I think, she told him. Worst part of the military is standing around like decoration.
The woman in the center of the dais stood again, and the room around them fell into silence. Clearing her throat, she said, "Lieutenant Doll, the Parliament of the Conglomerate of Free Citizens has officially declared war on the entire Empire of Terric. I would like to offer you the chance to lead the main incursion. Would you accept?"
"I'm sorry, ma'am. I cannot. My unit is not suited for leading an incursion like that. Like I said before, we specialize in extraction and infiltration. Heading an assault would be a poor choice for the Black Blades."
"I see," she said. "What if I told you that this mission will require infiltration and extraction? We have intelligence that suggests the Emperor is transporting bribes to Anglia. We need those bribes intercepted and nullified."
"Ma'am," the Lieutenant replied, "I think the Blades could handle that type of mission, but I would also like to point out the inherent problem with discussing military strategy in a public forum."
"I agree, Lieutenant Doll. You must trust me, that I have not divulged any intelligence that is not common knowledge."
"Yes, ma'am," he agreed.
"Madam Chair." Another man stood, addressing the woman in the center. "I object to the idea of sending a mere Lieutenant as the military commander for a mission as sensitive as this."
"I agree," said the man who had asked about their kills. "A mere Lieutenant should not lead a mission of this nature. I motion that Blaec Doll be promoted immediately to Major."
"I second that motion," a woman near the end of the dais said, standing momentarily.
"All in favor?" the chair woman asked. A chorus of ayes followed. "All opposed?" A few nays were called out. "Heard and passed. I hereby promote you to the position of Major. Congratulations, Major Doll."
"Thank you, ma'am." Blaec's voice fell into the room like stone.
LT's gonna be pissed about that, Cyno sent to Sal.
I know, but he shouldn't be, she replied. I'll see what I can do to make him see the wisdom in it later.
Good. He'll listen to ya.
I hope so.
"Now that our officer is a Major, Representative Toth, do you have any other objections?" The chairwoman looked at the man beside her.
"No, Madam Chair," Representative Toth replied, glowering before returning to his seat.
"Good. Then I motion that we place Major Doll in charge of our projected plans and grant him the necessary clearance as needed."
"I second that motion," another representative said, this time on the opposite side of the room.
"All in favor?" the chairwoman continued. A chorus of ayes followed. "All opposed?" This time, Sal could hear quite a few nays. "Heard and passed. Major Doll, Parliament thanks you for your time. You are dismissed. Please return to my office at 0800 tomorrow morning for your briefing."
"Thank you, Representative Anis," Blaec said, saluting.
In unison, LT and Arctic spun on their heels, pausing while facing the back of the room. In her head, she heard Arctic's voice, About face in three, two, one, ABOUT FACE!
In time with her fellow Blades, Sal executed a perfect turn, pausing with her heels together and standing until Blaec stepped off. Counting to three, she stepped in line behind him. The Black Blades made a flawless exit from the room and they could hear the tone of the crowd. Such simple maneuvers always impressed the civilians.
Marching in silence back to their barracks, Sal tried to touch Blaec's mind, but he shied away from her gentle request. She knew his rank as Lieutenant had been something important, a way of remembering those who had died before him. She also knew that he needed to move past that, and his promotion would mean more respect for his unit as a whole. Making mental notes of the reasons why he should be pleased, she found reasons to dismiss his previous excuses for evading promotions while they marched back.
The Black Blades entered the compound to a cheer from the 97th Pikemen. In their head, they were given the "at ease" by Arctic, and the 97th reached through, clasping hands or smacking the Blades on the back. Phrases such as, "good presentation," and, "about time a real unit got some respect," were heard in the crowd.
The 97th was a large group, consisting of nearly 75 men. The recruits and a few other units added to the mess in the courtyard. Sal quickly found herself lost in a sea of bodies. Pushing through the crowd, she aimed for Blaec's suite. Right now, she'd kill for a comfortable shirt.
Through the mass of soldiers, a familiar face made her pause. Struggling to place it, she remembered her last time with the man – as she strangled him in the Black
Blade's trials. She'd never gotten the chance to apologize.
"Kinetry!" Sal called out.
The broad-shouldered blonde turned, looking around him, and Sal called to him again. Spotting her, she was shocked to see him smile and push his way over.
"Sergeant Luxx!" he said, giving her a belated salute.
"At ease, Kinetry. Is this your unit?" she asked him.
"Yeah. Been with the 97th for about a month now. The Lieutenant, I mean Major's, recommendation got me the spot. Not as good as elite ops, but I fit in here. It's a good group," he told her.
"I'm glad. Look, I never got the chance to apologize. I took it too far, back in trials."
"It's ok, sir. They were pushing you pretty hard. After I saw those idiots try to jack you the first day, I cursed my luck when they paired me with you. I've never seen anyone move like that, till Cyno started drilling us, that is. I didn't stand a chance."
"I'm still glad you're ok."
"Yeah, same to you. I heard that idiot tried to jack you again in your last mission."
"He did. Got me pretty good too. Left one hell of a scar," she admitted.
"Rumor has it you flayed him as you went down. Heard he bled out."
"I actually hadn't heard. We got a bit busy after that."
Sal felt a hand on her shoulder and glanced up to find Cyno behind her. "Ya good?" he asked.
"Yeah," she told him. "You remember Kinetry, from my trials?"
Cyno slid his arm further up her shoulder, to the base of her neck, and left it there, making small talk while watching the man before her. Understanding, Sal excused them and walked with Cyno through the crowd.
"Jealous?" she asked.
"Na really, but he was lookin', and I wanted ta make sure things were clear enough. LT can na 'xactly do it himself now, can he?" Cyno said.
"Oh, I see," Sal teased, "you're just Blaec's stand in?"
"Am I na?"
"No, Jase, you aren't." She turned to face him. "You're nothing like Blaec, and he's nothing like you. You're my friend. Maast, man, you're my partner. I don't choose to spend time with you just to keep his reputation safe."
"But ya can touch me, ya know. I mean, when we're in public."
She leaned over and kissed him. "Like that?" she asked, pulling away.
"Ayati," he breathed. "Yeh. Like that."
She laughed and turned from him, seeing a man pat him on the shoulder in congratulations before she darted up the stairs to their rooms.
Inside, she found Blaec changing out of his dress uniform, gently caressing the bars on his shirt before removing them, folding it, and putting them away.
"It's been long enough, you know?" she said, wrapping her arms around him.
"I know. It's just hard, Sal." he told her.
"You think your Captain would want you to hold your men back from promotions just for his memory?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, if you're a Lieutenant, Arctic can never be more than a First Sergeant. He can't out-rank you unless an outside officer promotes him, and even then, he wouldn't take it, since it would most likely mean he gets control of the Blades."
"I hadn't thought about that," Blaec admitted.
"I didn't figure you had." Sal smiled at him. "Keep the bars, Blaec. The guys will always call you LT, no matter what rank you are, but be happy about the promotion. Oh. And promote Arctic? That poor boy could use a raise."
"Thanks, love." Blaec turned to her. "You know the right buttons to push. What do you think? Captain?"
"Nah. Make him a Lieutenant. It'll mean more to him like that."
"Sal?" Blaec was clearly changing the subject.
"Yeah?"
"This promotion isn't a good thing, you know that, right?"
"You deserve it," she assured him. "Regardless of why they did it."
He nodded, catching her eye as a knock came at the door. "They're setting us up to fail." He waited for her to nod before calling out. "Come in, Zep."
Zep walked in timidly, which was unusual for the big guy. He looked at them and held up a blue envelope.
"They aren't wasting time, LT." He crossed the room to hand it over.
Blaec pulled the orders from the sleeve, his eyes scanning them. With a nod, he handed them back.
"What's the plan?" Zep asked, as Sal looked between the two men, confused.
"Report to Representative Toth. Be professional and keep our secrets. You know the drill, Zep. Least you're still dressed for it."
"What's the orders?" Sal finally asked.
"Just to report," Zep said. "Short, sweet, and about as blunt as possible. Thing is, I'm the only one that got them."
Sal nodded, understanding. "You're human."
A cruel smile crawled onto Zep's face as he answered. "Fuck that. I may be human, but that doesn't mean I like them any."
Chapter 8
His boots rang out on the stone floor under the high arched ceilings, but Zep refused to step lightly. Heads turned, staff watching the elite soldier storming through the halls. His hand rested casually on the hilt of a large sword at his hip. He paused, making sure he looked as menacing as possible, then turned into a small office.
"I have orders to report," he snapped at the girl behind the elaborate desk, tossing the blue envelope across the top so that it slid toward her.
"Yes, sir," she said meekly, pushing the papers back toward him. "He's expecting you. If you'd follow me?"
Her eyes were a bit too wide when she looked up at him. He felt the muscles in his cheek fighting to smile, but his face remained cold and stony. The poor girl nearly jogged as she led him through a set of double doors. To his left, a rotund man waved him toward a seat.
"Sergeant Zepyr, so good to meet you," he cooed.
"Yes, sir," Zep said, allowing no trace of emotion into his voice. He disliked this man already. At least he couldn't smell the lies, because the idiot must reek of them.
"My, friendly aren't we?"
"I was ordered to report, sir."
"Yes. Sit, Sergeant. Can I get you something to drink?" Toth asked, gesturing to a glass cabinet filled with bottles.
"No, sir. I'm on duty."
"I assure you," Toth said, "it's not a problem."
Zep turned slightly, catching the man's eye. "Military Code of Conduct, Section 219:46. All military personnel are prohibited from consuming alcohol during active duty or while on assignment. I'm sorry. It would be a problem. How can I help you, sir?"
The Representative gestured to a seat. "Ok. Sit, Sergeant. I have a few questions for you and no intention of ruining my neck to have this conversation."
Zep sat, shifting his shoulders slightly and lifting his chin. His time with the iliri had made him sensitive to body language, and he knew that Toth would see nothing more than a confident elite soldier across from him.
"How long have you been with the Black Blades?"
"Nine years," Zep said. "Although I've been with the unit for almost twelve years now."
The confusion was obvious on the politician's face. "I don't understand." Toth glanced at the papers beside him, hoping for an explanation.
"Representative Toth, I was assigned to the 62nd Mounted twelve years ago. Over the next two years, we became known as the 62nd Black Blades. A year after that, our unit experienced a catastrophic mission failure. Our entire chain of command was killed in the line of duty. Our Captain had only promoted Blaec Doll to Lieutenant the evening before, and he assumed command through the field promotion. General Sturmgren chose the 62nd to become the third elite special operations unit in the Conglomerate, and it has been known as the Black Blades ever since. I was with the Blades before they were the Blades."
"Field promotion?" Toth asked, unfamiliar with the term.
"Yes, sir," Zep said, remembering it all too clearly. "That's the military's way of saying that everyone above him was dead, sir." LT just took charge that day, screaming orders in his command voice, and everyone left had listened. Somehow
, he'd managed to keep them all alive. Twenty-five men had left that morning, six of them had returned.
"Did you know at that time that Blaec Doll was iliri?"
"I was well aware that his mother was pure iliri. We never discussed his father's ancestry."
"And Karim Chalybs? He became the second in command at that time?"
"Yes, sir."
"And you knew of his iliran ancestry?"
Zep finally allowed himself to smile, barely. "His eyes are almost white, sir. It isn't something he can hide well."
"I understand," Toth said. "And what did you think of serving under men who were inferior to you?"
"I have never served under men inferior to me," he answered, wrinkling his brow to appear confused. "I am afraid I do not understand your question, sir."
"You are serving under two iliri, Sergeant. It is well known that they are inferior to humans, and by the color of your skin, I can only assume that you have a very pure ancestry."
"Yes, sir," Zep said. "Twenty generations of human breeding. My parents were rather proud of that."
"So did it not bother you to serve under the iliri?"
"No, sir."
"Why not?!" Toth asked, his exasperation showing.
"The Major and the First Sergeant have proven their abilities in battle, sir."
"But they're just beasts," Toth persisted. "Their lives controlled by their instincts. No civilization among their people at all. How can you tolerate this?"
Zep realized the man simply would not let this line of questioning go. Slowly, he leaned forward, resting his arms on the chair, and looked deeply into the pathetic man's eyes, careful to hide his distaste. "Representative Toth, I can only assume you have not been in combat. Battle is not a very civilized place. There's nothing but screaming, blood, and death all around you. We do not get the luxury of holding tea parties while we're dying. When you're in the middle of a war zone, the only thing that matters is making it out alive, and hopefully bringing as many of your fellow soldiers with you as you can. I have served with Blaec Doll for almost twelve years. I have seventeen scars from my time in, and I'm still alive to show them off."