Lieutenant Holfrom was tired. Dead tired. The sort of tired that finds its way inside you and then builds a home on the foundation of the broken shards of your wakefulness. It was exhausting, coordinating all of the communications that were coming in and out of the Hidden Dagger. There were the ones who were outraged that their officers were being court-marshalled, there were the ones who were outraged that they were being court-marshalled, there were the ones who were outraged that they were not being court-marshalled (because if officer so and so is being court-marshalled, he did the same as me, I should be there too! Why? Take the win, losers), there were the ones who were outraged that they were now a part of the Void Spectres, there were the ones who were outraged that they were now a part of the Void Spectres and had lost their chance to make it in permanently on their own merits, there were the ones who were outraged that they hadn’t left yet, there were the ones who were outraged that they hadn’t taken supplies from the dragons, there were the ones who were outraged that they hadn’t traded for supplies from the dragons, there were the ones who were outraged that the navy was not staying here for a year to recuperate, restock, resupply, and consolidate. It was a madhouse, and it had only one doorkeeper. Me, thought lieutenant Holfrom wearily.
Master sergeant Ono was in the process of gathering all the traitors up for safe-keeping, then he would inform the sergeant generals that they were now integrated fully into the command structure. Imperial Marines were an island unto themselves no longer. Some of them would be happy about that, some of them would be offended by that, and some of them would be outraged by that – more traffic for me to deal with later. The short of it was that until they were integrated and could enforce strict compliance among the entire Fourth, there was nothing that was going to make my life better.
He turned and called to the XO, still seated in the command chair on the bridge. “XO, will relief be coming, or will we work through second shift too?”
She looked at him oddly, then glanced at the screens around her chair and then back to him. “Lieutenant, I am aware that you represent first shift, and that you have been on duty through all of your shift and most of second shift. You’re going to be relieved by third shift. Commandant Rieven wishes for his best to guard his gates gracefully under siege, not for second or third shift to be in the hotseat when some jackboot decides to go haring off with their ship to escape consequences.”
Fair, he thought, I’m more experienced than the other shifts and this is standard operating procedure, it just hurts to do sixteen hours in one go though the end of the Medusean Gambit into dragon-land. Ungh. I’m going to sleep for a week at Homeworld and then wake for half-days only for a month!
He turned back to his station and saw a lone communication come through the traffic that was different than the others. It was listed as ‘Urgent’. They hadn’t had one of those come through yet, not! The penalty for mis-labelling communications was severe, not even the stupid wanted to be that stupid, but no one seemed to care right now. He was going to shuffle it into the FIFO pile, but noticed that it was from an engineer, not even the chief, this was one of the grunts, a lowly spaceman. Why would they contact the commandant directly? He opened it up from sheer curiosity and gasped.
To: Commandant Rieven
From: Spaceman 2nd Class Shannen
Time: 2358
RE: CAPTAIN GREEVES IS PREPARING TO FIRE LASERS AT THE HIDDEN DAGGER AND HIS ENTIRE COMPLIMENT OF AXIOM TORPEDOES AT ANY SHIPS STANDING IN SUPPORT. HE HAS INFORMED US HE HAS HELPERS ON OTHER SHIPS. WE HAVE BEEN LOCKED OUT OF MESSAGING SYSTEMS, BUT THE SI HERE HELPED ME GET THIS OUT AND IS PINGING IT TO WHOEVER CAN HELP. SI HAS BEEN DISABLED. REPEATE, SI HAS BEEN DISABLED AND CANNOT OVERRIDE CAPTAIN GREEVES’ ORDERS. HELP. PLEASE DON’T KILL US TO STOP HIM IF YOU CAN. WE VERY MUCH WANT TO LIVE. OUR CHIEF ENGINEER IS HIS COUSIN AND LOCKED US IN COLD STORAGE. HELP.
Body of Message: [blank]
He immediately forwarded the message to the XO and turned around. “XO,” he said, “I don’t know how this could happen, but Captain Greeves is reported as readying weapons fire on us and all ships in our vicinity. Please read that message. It’s timed thirty-two minutes ago.”
She looked at a screen and anger very quickly replaced bored annoyance. “If this is true, then the SI had a very difficult time getting it out. With just one man over-riding the SI for every torpedo tube and laser array, we probably have a few minutes remaining. Time to see if this spaceman 2nd class is honest.” She pressed a button on her comm unit and sent out a ship-wide alert. “Now hear this. The Hidden Dagger is entering full wartime status. All persons onboard have one hundred twenty seconds to be bunkered before potentially life-threatening evasive manoeuvres will begin. Gahst out.” She closed the comm link and the lighting in the corners of each room of the ship turned an unsubtle red colour, outlining the room like a box. There was no place to look where the difference could no be seen.
Gahst turned to him and said in her usual brisk manner, “lieutenant, I want that information validated now. Alert me immediately of your findings.”
“Aye sir!” Lieutenant Holfrom started typing away in earnest. Time to validate that data message and earn the rent for being here. Suddenly he wasn’t so sleepy any longer.
-x-
Jackson was not amused. These corridors were not made for dragons. They were too narrow, too short, and too soulless. Every place he had gone since getting on this ship had been uncomfortable. I can’t wait until we move to the Death’s Silence. That vessel has proper space for a dragon. On the other hand, it is endlessly fascinating to see how these humans live their lives. Always in a hurry, they are.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
He looked around the room he had come to and noticed that the corners of the room were lit with a pale white light, outlining each corridor and room like a box. They like their borders, these humans. I wonder what would happen if they had a room with no borders in light? Would they panic? Not notice? Believe the room was larger than it was? I wonder what purpose this serves.
He mentally shrugged and continued onwards. Corporal One-hand walked just behind him. He could have inquired of her, but her answers tended to be less than unhelpful. Sometimes more than less than unhelpful. Like the time he asked why humans didn’t eat food, but instead ate chemicals in prepackaged boxes called ‘coffee packets’. She told him that it was because the empire had a long-standing tradition of attempting to replace the soul with caffeine, the more sludgey, the better. When asked how they knew they had succeeded, she had answered that it would be more than obvious because that person would no longer sleep. Nonsense. That’s all that lived in her head. Nonsense. Perhaps that was a trait of the Imperial Marine?
Hmm. That bore thinking about. The humans with sense never did seem to have battle armour on. Perhaps only the lower intelligences of their empire serve in a physical capacity as shock troops? Is that why they breed so rapidly and so frequently? They would vastly outnumber the dragons if his conservative estimates regarding their population densities were correct. Perhaps it was more that she refused to speak in anything other than idioms. That would not be permitted in the Black Drake Hold. ‘Say what you mean’ was going to be one of the first tenets he pushed for with my new lord.
His new lord, now there was a fascinating subject. The very first thing he had done after the Captain’s Board terminated was to watch a recording of the Rite of Ritual Combat, and he was shocked. Shocked and a little terrified. That was good. It meant he had chosen well. Anyone who could instil the breath of fear into the heart of the son of Heat Death Virabdhara while at the same time coaxing the embers of fealty to life through honour was worth everything to serve.
This lord, this human, this dragon, was going to change the universe. I can feel it in my bones. Change is coming, change for the Empire of Celestial Skies and change for the Operatic Empire. Neither dragons nor humans are going to be happy, I judge. It will be just like that Captain’s Board. He will come into the room, everyone will expect him to behave reasonably similarly to those who came before, but he will open his mouth and the law will move and the enforcers of that law will obey the shift, leaving the beneficiaries of the previous order struggling for wind in the new currents of order.
Jackson smiled. That is how I can help him. He needs to return at the head of a navy, impressive and without reservation. Not as a conquering force, but as an independent lord willing to barter aid. These Void Spectres will have moved on in the three years it takes to return. He will have been replaced as commandant. They don’t seem to have thought to closely at the implications yet, They haven’t had the time, but I have. Humans don’t live as long as dragons do, but two years without communication and without sight will have a dragon registered as believed dead. One year after that they are pronounced dead in their local court. Getting any rights back after that point, should the dragon in question arrive not dead was nearly impossible.
He puffed his chest out and stood taller, pride swelling in his heart. He couldn’t contain it any longer and spoke out loud, his smooth voice deep and chill, “My new lord is strong enough to claim independence. He will not endure mistreatment upon his return. He will have a position of strength from which to bargain. He will have a fully functional navy. He will have a united navy. He will have the Black Drake Navy.”
I like the sound of that, he thought. That is the first step to folding the Fourth into the Black Drake Hold. They had to be his, body and soul. I can do that. I can get that process started. The Master Sergeant is surely in the same position of being replaced. How do you allow such a man to be a part of the military without allowing him his old position? How do you deal with his temporary replacement? It would cause too many personnel, administrative, and security issues. He would have to be forcibly retired, or shifted to another branch of the military. If they had to do the same thing to two branch heads, they might as well just make a new branch altogether for them, it would risk rebellion to do otherwise.
I have experience in these matters as Heat Death’s administrative arm for thirty years. I know how the arms of the court reach out from Central and cause issue after issue. I can begin preparing now. In three years, the members of the Fourth will worship my lord Rieven as the heaven-sent hero of legend.
His ruminations were interrupted by corporal One-hand. “Black Drake Navy, huh?” she laughed. “I love that. The Black Drake Navy, following our commandant the Black Drake. The emperor’ll have a fit, or at least his Grand Admiral will.” She started tapping on her datapad and Jackson heard the tone indicative of a message sent.
Well, he thought, no time like now and no tool like her to get the message started. He smiled. Suddenly a warning tone, harsh and high, sounded and a female’s voice sounded throughout the ship. “Now hear this. The Hidden Dagger is entering full wartime status. All persons onboard have one hundred twenty seconds to be bunkered before potentially life-threatening evasive manoeuvres will begin. Gahst out.”
Those pale white lines, those borders with which he had been so enamoured just before, were now glowing a harsh red. Oh, he thought, that is their purpose. They announce the alert level in a way that is always present. Clever.
He turned to corporal One-hand, “Where shall I bunker?”
She looked at him and sighed. “The room up ahead is available. However, ain’t no way you’re fittin’ a five-pointer harnie no how. You give up that thought right now.”
“That’s not a concern. I am a practical axiom worker. I judge that you will find me to be proficient in the art. I can harness myself. Let us go to this room, there is not much time.”
She forced herself past him, though there was no room for it. It amazed Jackson that it was even possible. She got right up to the door and punched in a code on the side panel. It opened to a room full of seats with harnesses. Most seats were taken. She strapped herself in and looked at him. “Well?”
He walked in and took a corner, closing his eyes. The next moment, chains the colour of nighttime river ice burst into being attaching him to the floor, ceiling, and each wall. They encircled him in a way that would not damage any of his appendages. He saw her considering look, surprise clearly evident in those eyes, and said, “They’re actually quite comfortable, like laying on a cloud.”
She snorted. “There you are Jackie Boy, that right there’s the reason you an’ me’re gonna be best friends. You have no sense of reality. You need that in the ‘perial marines. It ‘elps loads!”
He smirked. Time to see what evasive manoeuvres meant to humans. He was excited. Then he felt fear in the pit of his stomach. He turned to corporal One-hand in a panic, “Corporal, Heat Death Virabdhara will destroy every vessel in this navy if one ship fires upon another, even human to human. How do we let the commandant know? It must be stopped before any ordinance launches. He has ordained it to be so and will not see his word made ineffectual!”
There was another tone, and a smooth masculine voice said, “Fear not Jackson. I have just forwarded your warning to Commandant Rieven, Lieutenant Commander Gahst, and Master Sergeant Ono. They are aware and will consider that information in their deliberations.” The exit tone sounded and the SI was gone. Jackson breathed out a sigh of relief.
“See,” said corporal One-hand, “’s all taken care of. You worry too much.”
He turned to her and asked, “Why are you called One-Hand when you have both hands?”
Every other human in the room flinched.
