by Ren Garcia
"Hath, must you react so? Yes, I'd heard Lord Grenville was wanting to add a country cottage to his manor grounds and was digging up the landscape. A pity really. Armenelos is a beautiful area."
"What do you have to say for yourself, rat, I mean … Sergeant?" Hathaline yelled, standing up again.
Kilos didn't know what to say. She just sat there in misery.
She had so wanted this.
"Cat got your tongue? Captain Davage is a great man and in my mind, the Fleet's finest captain, and here you are—a rat, with orders to pull him down, humble him, and lose him his command. Were he not such a kind man, were it not for his sake, I would be turning you inside-out right now, Sergeant!" Her eyes shimmered with an enraged light.
"Hath," he said. "That's enough, and I mean it."
Hathaline, giving Kilos one last hateful look, went to the door. "I am going to get security and have her removed, Dav, and she'll be fortunate if I don't Stare her out of the ship after all. Not only is this ridiculous, it's embarrassing as well!"
Before Davage could say anything, she left.
"I am sorry for that, Sergeant," he said. "Lieutenant Hathaline is one of my oldest friends and tends to be rather protective of me, though I know not why."
Patting the soot out of his hair, which Ki noted was dark blue, he grabbed his coat and a long, odd-looking weapon that was made out of gun-metal. He opened the door and peered out into the hallway.
"We'd best be out of here, Sergeant, I think she's serious."
He stepped into the hallway. "Walk with me, please." Kilos stood up and grabbed her duffel. Together they left the office and headed off in some random direction.
After a while they ended up in a large gymnasium.
"Everything she said is true, sir. I was sent here to spy on you," Ki said.
"I think I can imagine what happened, Sergeant," Davage said, his voice echoing around the lofty gym. "Lord Sixtus of Grenville was wanting to renew his attack on me and my family, and in order to do that, he needed a shill, someone whom he could get to do his dirty work for him."
He paused. "You are a Brown, yes."
Kilos looked down at the gym mat.
"You needn't feel ashamed; some of my best friends are Browns. But still, in Lord Grenville's case, your status as a Brown is perfect. He could use you all he wants, and should anything happen, you will take all the blame. I'm certain you were pulled into his office. He found you of suitable stock and asked you to collect as much embarrassing information on me as possible. In such a case, you really don't have much of a choice, do you? You really can't say no to a Great House Lord, can you?" Davage smiled. "Did he mention anything about being executed?"
"He did, sir."
"Yes … certainly brave of him using a ditch-digging Marine to fight his battles and threatening to have her killed to boot. His family and mine have never gotten along. Vith and Remnath—there's a history there. Foolishness really."
Ki felt sick to her stomach. She wanted to be elsewhere; she'd had enough. She turned to the door of the gym. "Sir, I would best be going. It's a long trip back to Armenelos."
She looked around the gym, noting the fanciful painting of the Seeker on the far wall. She looked at Captain Davage standing there in his coat and hat. Here was a man she could have worked with, done great things with. She was certain of that.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm truly sorry I wasted your time today."
Davage ignored her. "And how should I react to this, Sergeant— this latest attack authored by dear Lord Grenville?"
Kilos stopped and looked at him.
"Perhaps I should be full of indignant rage, rather like Lieutenant Hathaline, and thoroughly punish you for this. That's what Lord Grenville expects that I will do; that's what he would do, certainly."
Ki began walking toward the door again. Davage watched her walk for a moment. "You know what I think, Sergeant?"
"Sir?"
"I don't think you've ever given yourself a chance. I think you've allowed yourself to get the better of you. That's why you're digging ditches. That's why you've been in Hack pretty much your entire time in the service, yes?"
"Sir … I …"
Davage took off his coat. "Until you exit the ship, you are under my command, Sergeant, let's not forget that."
She looked at him.
"I am going to give you an order right now, one that I think, given your record, is right up your alley."
"Sir?"
"I want you to knock me down, if you can. You're well practiced with those fists, use them. Knock me down."
She regarded him for a moment. He was tall, fit-looking, and appeared like he could take a punch. "I do not wish to hurt you, sir."
"Look to yourself, Sergeant, and fear not for me. Now, I've given you an order, and I wish it carried out, right now," he said rolling up his sleeves.
Resigned, Ki dropped her bag, took off her coat, and rolled up her sleeves as well.
Ten minutes later, Ki sat on the gym mat against the wall. Her jaw was killing her, she felt a tooth loose, and her right eye was watering, starting to close.
She hadn't been able to knock him down, though she nailed him a few times. And he nailed her too. He could hit—hard.
"You know, Sergeant," Davage said, putting his coat back on, "I think you lead a bit too much with your left. In any event, you hit like my sister—and that's actually a great compliment."
Ki sat there looking at him with her good eye. She honestly had no idea what was going to happen next.
"So, Sergeant, I think I've seen enough. I think you'll do fine."
"You still want me even though I was selected to spy on you."
"Are you still planning on doing that?"
"No, sir."
"Then yes, I want you. I'm sorry you were subjected to the silly entanglements that Great Houses appear to enjoy, but here you are. Lord Grenville certainly expects that, should you be discovered, I will take out my wrath entirely on you—similar to how Lieutenant Hathaline reacted. I cannot imagine a better way to annoy Lord Grenville than to accept you as is and provide you with every opportunity to excel—to finally show your quality. And as I stated earlier, I think you've allowed yourself to remain in the dregs for far too long—and I think, given the right circumstances, you might be amazed at what you can do, at how far you can go. I am willing to give you that chance. I hope as a result of this session here just now that I have earned a measure of your respect."
"You … were hoping to earn … my respect, sir?"
"Indeed. How can you follow an order if you've no respect for its source?"
Kilos looked at the mat again. She couldn't believe what she was hearing.
"Lt. Hathaline was correct, this is indeed a test, Sergeant, and why don't we pass it together, what do you say? I'm willing to give it a top-rate effort if you are. Wouldn't it be nice this evening to settle into your new quarters, grab a little something to eat, drop a Com to your husband, and tell him that your first day on the Seeker wasn't too terribly bad? Wouldn't that be nice?"
"Yes, sir."
Davage offered her his hand, and he pulled her up off the mat. "I don't think your first officer likes me much, though," she said.
"Hath? Don't mind her; she doesn't like me either. Besides, you won't be reporting to her, you'll deal directly with me. I enjoy an open relationship with the Marines here on my vessel, and you will be a crucial component in that continued relationship."
Davage went to the wall, tapped a panel, and a hidden door opened. He pulled out a tankard and two glasses, which he filled.
"Here," he said, offering one to her. "A toast to our mutual success."
"What is this?" she asked, looking at the frothing liquid in the glass.
"Narva."
"That's a fruit drink, isn't it? I don't think I'll …"
"You've not had narva until you've had it buncked. Try it."
"Buncked … you mean it's spiked?"
"It is—hi
ghly against regulations, I assure you. There—your first bit of dirt on me."
They drank it, and it was good. Ki thought it was really good.
"Oh," Davage said, finishing his glass. "I took the liberty of circulating a Letter of Honor for your husband this morning before you arrived. Yes, I already knew all about you before you got here."
Kilos almost choked on her remaining narva.
"I hope your Lord Pittsfield doesn't mind. When I saw his outstanding school records to date, I couldn't believe he hadn't been offered a Letter previously. It looks very good for a Lord to sponsor such a promising student, and I was happy to do so."
Kilos stood there, dizzy. "Sir, I don't know what to say."
"Also, I found a discrepancy in your records over the last six months. It appears, whilst you were digging trenches for Lord Grenville, he wasn't paying you correctly."
"He did pay me, sir, with the Burl."
"Lord Grenville needs to check up on Fleet regulations. You were officially attached to the 8th Marines, which is under overall Fleet command. He formally requested the services of the 8th Marines and thusly, is compelled to bear responsibility for all pays due the Marines according to Fleet standards. The Fleet does not pay in Burl. I apologize for this confusion and have ordered you receive your full sixmonth back pay. Your whole company as well. I certainly hope Lord Grenville's purse doesn't suffer too terribly. The funds should be in your account shortly."
Ki stood there and looked at her duffle. "Sir … I—"
Davage clapped her on the back and picked up her bag. "Come now, Sergeant, let me show you to your new quarters, and let me be the first to officially welcome you aboard the Seeker."
The next day, Kilos flashed home to her husband a big lump of money—more than they both had ever seen. She got him on the Com, and she chattered excitedly about the ship and the village and what had happened with Lord Grenville and about Captain Davage—this Blue Lord who was so much more. She proudly showed him the black eye he'd given her and the tooth that he'd knocked out. It was okay, though, she already had an appointment with the ship's Hospitaler to have it fixed. She was so happy.
She kept a bit of the money for herself. She went out into the village and bought the rings she had liked and the books for her husband she had wanted.
Looking back at the Seeker parked in the bay as she stood there with her purchases, she knew she'd finally found a home and a captain to go with it.
She couldn't wait for her adventure to begin.
* * * * *
Ergos rocketed relentlessly closer and closer.
Syg sat in Dav's chair. Being on the bridge, and being visible at the same time, was a strange feeling for her.
The Sisters were there too, ten of them, each scanning the scene below, looking for Cloaked contacts.
Kilos looked back at the helm. Saari stood there, holding the wheel. She seemed to have composed herself, but Ki wanted to make sure not to push her too hard, so that she wouldn't break. She tried to make sure her orders were clear and easy to follow. This wasn't going to be a turning, rolling Dav-fight; it was going to be a straight at 'em, broadside furball.
The messages the Sisters were hitting Ki with came non-stop.
Ki recalled how hard Dav had to Sight in order to pick up the transports; they were Cloaked deep, and she didn't think the Sister's could Sight as well as he could.
"Keep trying, Sisters, they're out there in a hard Cloak. Number and composition unknown."
She turned to Saari at the helm. "Helm, report counter flood."
Saari glanced to her right. "Counter flood positive two. Ship is sailing with minimal trim."
"Any pull?"
"No ma'am."
Good, Kilos thought, good. "Not a bad job putting the ship back together, Sygillis."
Syg was shocked; she wasn't accustomed to being spoken to on the bridge. She was used to hiding out under Cloak. "Oh, oh … thank you, Lieutenant."
The Sisters again.
"Port Sensing, did you track a Cassagrain strike, temple wall, west quarter?"
"Aye ma'am."
"Transfer data to Canister control, triangulate to source and fire."
She spoke up: "All right, everybody, here we go. I don't think I have to remind you that this action is for our captain—for the man who should be right here, right now—and for all of us, whether you be Fleet or Marine, Hospitaler, Sister, or special guest, he is our man, ours, the beloved head of our family. There's not a person here whose name he doesn't know, whose back he hasn't slapped in genuine friendship. Be you of Great House or not, be you Blue or Brown, Vith or no, his door was always open, and he was always glad to see you. He did all that not because he had to, but because he wanted to … because he thought it important, because he loves his crew as his own. He's down there all alone, and we are not going to fail him. Here we stand and here we make our family whole again. Understood?"
"Aye, ma'am!" the crew shouted.
With a characteristic "thud," the first canister left the ship and sped off toward its target, tail fire lit bright.
13
THREE SEEKERS
Davage shook his head when he looked up.
There were three Seekers, soaring around at about four thousand feet, lights blinking, canisters firing.
One, of course was the real thing.
The other two were crude, ¼ scale Silver tech dummies that bore only the vaguest of resemblances to the real ship. He didn't even need his Sight to tell which from which.
Syg.
Obviously, Syg had squirted the two dummies out with shaped blobs of Silver tech and persuaded the Sisters dress them up a bit with Cloaked lights and surface details. She even had little Silver tech missiles shooting out, going here and there. She was probably sitting on the bridge right now, controlling them. It must be an odd thing for her to be invited on the bridge. He knew she often snuck up to the bridge Cloaked. She never ever gave his Sight the credit it was due. He didn't mind her on the bridge—he liked it, in fact.
He supposed that they were expecting a vast contingent of Black Hats down here, and that these ridiculous fakes might divert them. He wondered—why didn't they just send down Arrow shot from orbit and flood the area with Sisters and Marines? Kilos, being a Marine, liked to fight up close—she liked raking a target with Battleshot, and she would want to get up close to the Ghomes and sink them hard. Just a different style, a different way of going about it, he guessed.
Or maybe it was something else. Maybe they came in so close because they were wanting to see him, to be able to look down and possibly catch a glimpse of him and know that he was all right. Perhaps they just wanted to be near to him.
His ship, his crew—he didn't deserve their devotion.
He was concerned about the Seeker re-entering the atmosphere after the pounding she previously took. She didn't appear to be having any issues maneuvering. Could Mapes have repaired the spar to such a level that they were full in-planet capable? The ship wasn't doing any excessive or fancy maneuvering, but that was probably a result of Ki's straight ahead command style; the ship appeared to be under full control.
It banked gracefully; he could see its dorsal quarter.
No—no, look, the Seeker's back was coated in a shiny layer of … silver.
Syg! Syg had fixed the spar with her Silver tech. Oh that tiny woman—how he missed her. She had fixed the spar, and he could imagine the scene that must have taken place in engineering to get Mapes to allow her to do such a thing—to outdo him at his own game. He guessed a Gift or two had probably been needed, maybe even some illegal Black Hat ones as well.
And then, she had fashioned these crude fakes to try and help save him.
Still, an idiot with one eye and no Sight could figure out
the differences. Well, if you're going to come up with a silly, half-baked plan, why not go whole hog?
A canister blasted out of the real Seeker and slammed into a Cloaked transport, sinking it hard—more destruction for the good people of Metatron.
He could see the transports struggling to change course to fix their guns on the Seeker. The good thing was they seemed to be falling for the bait—they couldn't determine real from the embarrassing fakes as they laid bearings on them as well.