Notes from a War Council
28 Jul 2018Noxa
The governor paced across the stars. Upon reaching the angled glass wall, she brushed a layer of dust off the glass.
"Ma'am?"
"I hate this starport." Patron Stirling David sighed. Again. "There's so much filth. Sorayama was never this bad."
"You can have an office on Sorayama Station, Governor."
"Not my office, Sterling. The League built that station, and some up-jumped self-proclaimed lords take it from us!"
"They are Imperial Knights, Cayla. Elections have conseq-"
"Shut up, Sterling."
"Ma'am."
Governor Cayla Reid huffed, and dust scattered into the air, settling in a drifting line along the glass floor. The rotating star field blurred through the dusty glass floor, creating a dynamic halo around each star. The governor strode away from the floor to ceiling window and behind the desk, queueing the message from Hartmann Bastion.
The window blinked.
A handlebar mustache filled the screen. With a pixelated flicker, the image resolved to a dirt and grime coated face bottomed by an Imperial Naval Auxiliary uniform. The gold aiguillette marking his nobility.
"Governor Reid, the League's military preparedness exceeded expectations. Reports from Peirce Terminal claimed a certain commander boosted our influence in Dount before the war began. Of course those same reports say that mercenary bastard helped out the futurists the day before."
Charts and lists leap onto the window, the Baron's meandering drawl lulling his audience to distraction.
Patron Sterling David failed to stifle a yawn, and justified it with a change of topic. "Is Baron von Flettner's drawl is getting more pronounced?"
"Every damned Laurian pulls out their words when they think of home. Put him anywhere near a planetary surface, and he thinks he's running a barn on B-Four."
With a few taps and swipes, the charts drained off the window as the Baron’s drawl increased speed.
"I do miss Sorayama Station, too, Cayla."
"Please, you just miss the brothel off the axial tower."
Sterling breathed with longing, "There's one girl over there, Veronica-"
"Not anymore, Sterling. That meddling inquisitor spirited her off after that incident with Crimson General Holdings."
"He what?!”
The charts completed their fall off the window. The Baron's mustache dominated the screen again.
"The opening salvo was an assault on the Jones Relay military base to split Future’s forces. They kept a strong force patrolling in orbit above Bohme Vision. Today we engaged them at multiple assets across the system. We contacted the Imperial Navy, but no word arrived by the time of our deployment. War Bird, the patrol’s flagship, is preventing a full blockade of Bohme Vision.” The Baron’s eyes left to camera and dragged across his own charts and lists. With a sneeze, dust flew from his mustache and filled the video feed.
Sterling smiled at the ever-present dust in buildings sealed against the vacuum, while the governor focused on the charts and lists displayed on her desk.
Baron von Flettner continued, “Notwithstanding, the dispute in Dount is unopposed for now. Our fleet should win the day, barring any unforeseen developments. I advise a further Cutter detachment sent out from Kirtley Relay. We're dispatching our last battle group from Hartmann Bastion as we speak. I'll be departing onboard the Trembler presently. Long live the Emperor. Von Flettner out."
The Baron’s mustache blacked out to HIP 34961 Empire League’s coat of arms: a feathered Imperial Eagle impressed on the sails of a boat built of stars.
Patron David laughed quietly. “The Trembler?”
“I said families from Laur are voiding odd. The full name of von Flettner’s flagship is l’Trembler Avant. His grandsire commissioned it when they settled on Laur B-Four. It’s in his file.”
“They named their planet Before? Does it orbit a star called After?”
“Sterling-”
“Wait, it’s worse than that, isn’t it? It’s Laur B 4. They didn’t name it?” Governor Reid continued to stare down her facetious patron. “Right. Of course, an odd sort, ma’am.”
"Sterling, send Luna out with the Kirtley strike force."
"Dexter’s a bit wet behind the ears, no?”
“Are you volunteering? The Cutter detachment from Kirtley needs-”
Static cut through the speakers and the League’s coat of arms jittered, broke apart, and the shield and scales of the Kamadhenu Chapterhouse of Inquisition formed out of the static. A disembodied voice resonated throughout the governor’s office.
“You need not concern yourselves with the situation in Dount. Saint Adrian destroyed the War Bird of the Future, and Bohme Vision will not stand to our Redoubt. Future returns from the refinery spaceport are destined for your patron-investors. You’ll have an office on the surface in less than a day.”
In another blink, the starfield returns to the window.
Governor Reid continued working through the interruption. “An office on the surface of a refinery? I’d rather be floating. Disgusting.”
Patron David examined his fingernails closely while his breathing steadied. “That scary meddler has fingers everywhere, doesn’t he?”
“I trust you’ll help the League confirm the transfer of power, Sterling?”
“Of course, governor.” Patron David stood, brushing clear his ornate shoulder epaulette. “Cayla, you could always ask for an office on the surface of Dount B1. It won’t be long before the air will be breathable and the surface is green.”
Governor Cayla Reid scoffed. “It doesn’t even have the gravity of New World, Patron. I am the Emperor’s to command, but I will not settle for a planet-bound existence that will in any way discourage a visit to Capitol.”
“Of course not, governor,” the patron coughed to clear his throat. “With the Order of the Imperial Knights governing H Puppis and continuing to rise, displacing our league as they expand, you cannot possibly expect a response to last year’s Senatorial bid any-”
“That is all, Patron. Your fleet will depart from Kirtley Relay within the hour.”
Patron David assented and left the office.
