IronStar (50 page)

“Would you like a top-up for your
suitpack while we’re at it? Says you’re down 30, beamer’s down too. In fact, we
have a spare combat suit if you’d like it…”

“Yes on all counts, thank you. I’d
also appreciate about a dozen wristcomps, to help keep everyone in touch. One
to that man on the big white horse, and one to this gentleman who’s about to go
back to that steamship by the riverbank over there. Thank you.” Kirrah handed
him one of the slim nine by fifteen centimeter panels.

“Captain Og’drai, here, put this on
your wrist. At need I can cause my voice to come from it, and if you put your
lips about
here
and speak, I will be able to hear you as well. To call
me, press
this
button, yes, that’s right. Good, now as soon as the
fire’s burned out, I want you to bring all the steamships back to their docks,
except leave two on patrol so none of our prisoners escape across the Geera.
Take shifts, patrol until after dawn. Understood? Good.”
Back to Standard
…

“Lieutenant, if I may ask, where
are all your men?” Kirrah nodded to the empty rows of seats in the main cabin.

“All my - ? Oh, this is it,
Lieutenant Roehl. The
Argosy
is just a destroyer, there’s only room for
a single squad of Marines.”

“A destroyer! With an
admiral
on board?” It was Kirrah’s turn to raise eyebrows.

“Ahh, Admiral Dunning came on ahead
with three destroyers, ma’am. Her main task force, and reinforcements for it,
are following. She thought it was important to get here soonest.”

“She was right, too,” Kirrah
replied. “I still don’t know how many Kruss are on-planet, or where, or what
else they’ve got in-system, or en route.”

“I believe I can relieve you a
little on that score, ma’am. We’ve had this system saturated with probes the
last two weeks, no sign of anyone. And if the Kruss aren’t here with at least a
squadron of heavies within another six weeks, they might as well pack up and go
home. There’s serious Navy iron following behind us.”

“That is comfort indeed,
Lieutenant. Do you suppose we might beg the help of one of the other ships’
Marines for a few days? It would be a big boost getting things stabilized
here.”

“I’ll ask, ma’am. The
Utterson
might be able to help, although I know the
Attila
is over the other side
of the planet right now, picking up the other survivor. There were only the two
of you, right, ma’am?
Ma’am
, are you ok?”

“Therefore, the element of
chance only is wanting to make of war a game, and in that element it is least
of all deficient.” -
General Carl Von
Clausewitz,
op. cit.

No I am definitely
not
ok!
Kirrah’s mind reeled as though she’d been sandbagged.
Another! Yes I
am
ok! As ok as I’ve been since landing! Oh my God!
Her breath drew
in sharply and she swayed like a feather in a breeze, suddenly pale as a ghost.

“Warmaster! What has happened? Are
you attacked?”

“
Nuh
, no, Peetha, it is
well.” Kirrah took in a deep breath and put out her hand, partly for support
and partly so Peetha would have to support her, thereby getting the fierce
young Wrth’s hands away from her own weapons, which she looked ready to draw in
an instant in defense of her Warmaster.

“It is good news, only unexpected.
Another of my friends has been found, one from my ship when I thought all were
lost. Only unexpected. Um, Peetha, it would embarrass me if you were to
…misunderstand anything here. If I need your assistance I will ask. I thank you
for your loyalty.” Peetha nodded understanding, looking a little unsure.
Or
reluctant
. Another deep breath, another switch back to Standard:

“No, Lieutenant Warden, I did
not
know, I thought I was the only one. Who?
Who is it
?”

“Gods, Lieutenant, I am
so
sorry,
I assumed you’d’ve heard from
Argosy
already! And no, I don’t think we
have the name yet, the
Attila
found them, she was maneuvering for LAS
insertion when we did our jackdrop to your position. Petty Officer Thornlea,
please pass on the word to
Argosy
, ask them to advise name and status,
soonest.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant Warden.”
Kirrah shook her head and straightened her shoulders. “Ok, I’ve waited five
months to find out, I guess another few hours won’t kill me. I’ve got a few
things to clean up here, starting with, the city is beginning to flood
and
burn.
Do you suppose we could put a few joules from the bow cannon into a very
precise place? I’d like to hover about fifty meters upstream from the waterfall
that’s developing, see where that city wall comes down to the far side of the
lake there… and if you could let me have one of those wristcomps with my
language file loaded, I won’t have to keep talking past my young Lieutenant
here.” Peetha accepted the wristcomp almost reverently, and listened carefully
while Kirrah repeated the instructions for intercom and translation mode.

Irshe shu’Kassua stood in the
torchlit darkness just above the rising water, watching the
Flowerpot II
being pulled up to its half-submerged berth. Steam hissed and gurgled, smoke
rose from the central iron flue. Sailors tossed heavy mooring ropes to waiting
dockhands, the gangplank ran out, and the Captain’s face appeared at the rail.

“
Ho, Irshe-ro'tachk!
Another
victory for our Warmaster! The O’dai have thrown down their arms!”

“I am not surprised, Captain
Og’drai! What was the thunder?”

“
That
, my friend, was the
Reg’num
arriving! Right in the middle of the battle, our Warmaster’s suit began
speaking, it was the men on the
iron-star
, speaking to her. Then she
called them and they descended for her from
six hundred doi’la
in the
air! And
they
seem to be at her bidding, too!”

“The
Reg’num
! Kirrah
Warmaster must be very happy! She thought it would take another five tendays!
Is she on board?”

“On the
Flowerpot
? No, she
rides a better vessel now. When I left, she was in that ship that made the sky
roar. She said she’d be moving to outside the northwest wall, by the Sun gate.
Peetha was still with her when I left. Perhaps if you went…”

The Captain’s suggestion was
interrupted by a staccato series of muffled coughs and a thin, high screaming
sound that climbed rapidly into inaudibility. Out on the plains south of the
O’dai, the
ex-O’dai
position, a sound like a wind grew rapidly past
hurricane-force to a steady roar. Light flared bright yellow and faded as the
brightly lit shape of the alien craft became visible climbing into the sky on four
columns of that fantastic violet-white light. Well above the O’dai survivors,
the shape swept westward down the lake, directly away from the dock where Irshe
stood.

Like a giant hovering
kae'rruckh
,
the apparition paused over the far end of the lake. A brilliant yellow shaft,
like the Warmaster’s
not-sword
but thicker, clearly visible even at the
two and a half
doi’la
distance, flashed down from the bow of the vessel
and a geyser of water leapt into the air, about where the barges were sunk to
block the outflow. Another yellow flicker, another geyser. The echoing
boom!
from the first blow arrived just as the third struck. Apparently satisfied, the
sky-boat moved north over the city, settling somewhere to the west.

Irshe was aware of a complicated
brew of feelings: exaltation at another victory for his Realm, fierce pride in
his friend and commander and lover, and a sense of foreboding and loss at the
thought that their ‘time between times’, was already past. As he mounted his
barely-rested horse and began the ride through the city to find his Warmaster,
a pair of green eyes floated in his mind: bright, warm, vulnerable,
intelligent, and fierce and free as the plains-raptor.
And likely as far
from any future reach
, a part of him noted, and began the process of
accepting what-is.

“Shuttle One,
Argosy
. Your
call to Admiral Dunning is ready.” The shuttle was now parked just outside the
Sun Gate in Talameths’cha’s western wall.

“Thank you…” said Kirrah and
Lieutenant Warden in unison, their hands colliding over the mike-rod. They
glared at one another briefly, then the Marine waved his hand in an exaggerated
after-you gesture and Kirrah spoke first.

“Admiral Dunning, Ma’am, sorry to
bother you, but we’re at an impasse here. This excellent Marine Lieutenant insists
on following me into the city and setting a guard outside my quarters there. I
know he has my safety in mind, Ma’am, but that would be an …unfortunate message
to send our allies just now.”

“Explain, Lieutenant Roehl.”

“Aye, Ma’am. These people, the
Talamae, have …I guess you could say elected me, as their
Warmaster
.
It’s a temporary position, duration of hostilities only, but it carries
absolute authority, sort of equivalent to martial law, and accountability for
every human life in the country, subject only to their King or a recall by
their, their parliament. If I show up with Regnum guards, it’s going to look
like I don’t trust them, and like the Navy is just …taking over. And if I don’t
return to my own quarters, it’ll look like I abandoned them. Look like the
Regnum
abandoned them. Ma’am.”

“The Regnum ‘abandoned’ them? Just
what have they been led to expect from the Regnum, Lieutenant Roehl?”

“I, well… Ma’am, I told them the
Regnum would open trade with them, and protect them from the Kruss. I told the
O’dai, the people we were just fighting, that the Regnum would protect them
too,
all
humans on this planet. I know this is something a Contact Team
would normally handle, but I was on the ground and events were moving forward.
Ma’am, did I do wrong?”
Tell me I was right, please, please tell me you’ll
back me up
…

“How did these ‘
Talamae
’
respond to your offer?”

“Ma’am, very positively. We have a
trade delegation and an indigenous Contact Management team in waiting, and the
use of a building for a temporary Regnum consulate, and a site for a permanent
embassy. We also have strong interest in a trade association from the
Pavattans
,
the country to the north. And the people to the east, the
Wrth
, they
want to send their children to the
War Academy
. Ma’am.” A few seconds’
silence filled the airwaves. Plenty of time for Kirrah’s guts to twist and her
hopes to blossom, collapse, turn themselves inside out, upside down, and back
again.

“Well, Lieutenant Roehl, I don’t
know why I bothered dragging a Contact Team all the way from Trailway.
Congratulations on what looks like an excellent job.” Kirrah almost wept with
relief, and within her, something thin and worn and bent almost to the breaking
point, eased back a few notches. The Admiral continued:

“Command experience has taught me
the folly of fixing things that aren’t broken, Lieutenant. Subject to review by
the actual Contact Team, or further tactical developments, you may consider
your terms to the indigenes as provisionally accepted. This is a little out of
the ordinary, but so are the circumstances.” Kirrah recognized the
understatement, and stiffened unconsciously to attention as this commanding
voice continued to write her future and the future of her adopted city.

“Here’s what I want in return.
Until you have been fully debriefed - no, until
I specifically order
otherwise
, you will not put yourself at any, repeat
any
, unnecessary
risk. You will accept whatever protection Lieutenant Warden deems necessary to
save his green Marine butt from my wrath should you, for example,
break a
fingernail
. He will do so with all due respect for local sensibilities, but
he
will
do so.” Now both figures standing at the shuttle’s engineering
station were at full attention.

“What you may not yet appreciate,
Lieutenant Roehl, is just how seriously NavInt has taken the news of a Kruss
presence here, and just how critical your intel is to helping us, helping
me
,
formulate our response.”

“Ma’am!
Aye, Ma’am!-am!” Kirrah glanced sheepishly over to the Marine Lieutenant,
thinking,
Damn! We sound good in unision!
She continued:

“Ma’am!
Perhaps an invitation could be extended to the Lieutenant and some of his
troops, to spend the night at the school where I’m billeted? Would that be
satisfactory?”

“I will
leave that to Lieutenant Warden’s judgement. I have no difficulty with it if he
deems the area secure.”

“Thank
you Ma’am!-am!”
Unison again! Does she have this effect on
everyone
?
Indeed the Marine Lieutenant was looking just as pleased and relieved as Kirrah
felt.

“At
ease, you two. This seems to be my day for indulgences, Lieutenant Roehl. Since
your area is reported relatively secure, and since you appear to have duties
critical to indigene relations, and since your prompt debrief is
mission-critical,
we
will come to
you
. I am sending down a
debrief team and the official Contact Team. And since that’s where the debrief
team will be, and since your shipmate appears to be in good shape, I’m
diverting Attila’s shuttle to your position. We’ll just set up dirtside ops
there. That will also give us another ten Marines on the ground. Marcus, you’ll
be in charge of security. Ms. Roehl, I assume you can arrange an ‘invitation’
for us? Immediate landing rights, then debrief two hours after local dawn,
First Contact meeting later in the day?”

“Aye,
Ma’am, consider it made. Excuse me, Ma’am, but do we know yet
who
…”

“Ahh,
yes. I have two hardcopies in front of me, Lieutenant. One is your request for
update as soon as that info is available, which it now is, and the other is a
specific request from …that individual, to allow …him or her, to greet you
personally. Which request I am required to honor as a matter of privacy.” The
Admiral’s voice lightened a notch: “…to say nothing of
fairness
, having
just given you everything
else
you asked for. You’ll know in about…
twenty minutes.

“One
more thing, Lieutenant Roehl. I am willing to bend the rules a little, because
I have some idea of your feelings. However you will not discuss with your
crewmate any events that took place between the time you first came under
attack in space, and the time you landed, until you both have been debriefed.
Lieutenant Warden will appoint a monitor who can eyewitness to this, in the
case you wish to spend a little time with this person. I am trying to
accommodate your understandable eagerness to be reunited with your shipmate,
Lieutenant, but I will
not
have the legal merits of your combined intel
compromised. Conduct yourselves as though every action has been and will be
under the gaze of a Civilium Scrutineer. Because it probably will be. Dunning
out.”

Kirrah
turned and looked at Lieutenant Warden, frustration and relief and happiness
all warring for her expression. He answered her look with a
that’s-how-she-is
shrug, both of them too professional and too aware of the many recorders
documenting this event to comment more tangibly.

“Lieutenant,”
said P.O. Thornlea from the engineering station. “There are some indigs out
there, look like they’re waiting for something.” Kirrah noticed how
diplomatically the alert had been worded, allowing either or both of the
“lieutenants” in question to assume the Petty Officer had been addressing them.
The thought crossed her mind that it might be a good idea not to exacerbate the
complexities she had already introduced to the Admiral’s command structure. She
clamped her mouth firmly shut, and after a momentary pause, Lieutenant Warden
said:

“Lieutenant
Roehl, do you recognize any of these?”

“Yes,
Lieutenant Warden, that is my liaison officer down there, and what looks like
an honor guard from the King. If you’re going to ‘respect local sensibilities’,
you need to know a few things. For example, I know these are palace guards
because of the orange and blue shoulder ribbons. Only palace guards and heavy
cav wear orange-and-blue. If the
orange
ribbon has a tail hanging loose,
that’s a
dakka'tachk
, a ‘leader-of-ten’, a corporal. If the
other
color
has a tail hanging, that’s a
ro'tachk
, literally a group-leader, what
we’d call sergeant. And if
both
colors are hanging, that’s a
sana'tachk
,
a lieutenant. Means ‘strike-leader’. I know you’re only a Greenbutt
 
so I won’t burden you with the other ranks, or
the
Pavattan
’s totally different rank structure, until you’ve learned
these. And since it seems we’ll be working together, call me Kirrah.”