“The First, Third, and Seventh Bastion Fleets have approached the island,” reported Warrant Officer Howllitt.
It was an impressive show of force, which Thane-Captain Corbyn assumed was the point.
“It’s almost time, Thane-Captain,” said Howllitt.
“I’ve been summoned.”
“By order of the Imperator.”
“She’s not actually here?” asked the Thane-Captain as she fussed with her tunic.
“Very unlikely, they are flying the pennant of the Fourth Scion.”
“Giving him a big public task they don’t think he’ll muck up.”
“They appear to be lacking several key pieces of intelligence, Thane-Captain,” remarked Howllitt as she handed her sword.
Corbyn attached the sword to her belt, turned to her mother who was sitting across the tent, sipping a mug of coffee, and asked, “How do I look?”
“Your wind cluster is a bit crooked, you should fix that, otherwise it will ruin the intimidating vibe I assume you’re aiming for.”
Adjusting the medal, she gave the Duchess-Admiral a look.
“Yes darling, much better.”
“Howllitt, have the ground crew get the one-person airship ready for departure.”
“Yes, Thane-Captain. Is there any chance you might reconsider allowing guards to accompany you?”
“The Imperial missive was very clear that I was to present myself alone. It’s just theater.”
“Of course it’s theater!” said her mother, “They should sell tickets.”
With that, Howllitte saluted and then left the tent to make sure the airship was ready to take off.
“We’re very spicy today.”
“It’s a rather spicy day, don’t you think?”
“It doesn’t have to be.”
“If everyone listens to you.”
“Yes.”
“What are the odds of that happening?”
“We’ll see, won’t we.”
Donning her half-cape, the Thane-Captain began to leave but stopped and looked back at her mother.
“Aren’t you going to tell me to be careful?”
The Duchess-Admiral stood, walked over to her, smiled, and said, “Darling, we have both sailed way beyond careful. Be victorious.”
Flicking an invisible speck of dust off her daughter’s shoulder, she nodded and they both saluted each other. It was time to go.
As she flew through the armada, even Corbyn had to admit, this was an impressive sight. Three full fleets hovering in sharp formation on a cloudless day. All the fixtures and armaments were polished to a near-blinding sheen and bright pennants snapped in the wind.
Docking with the B.A.S. (Bastion Air-Ship) Indomitable, Corbyn was met by a Lieutenant and four Peace-Keepers.
“Permission to board?” she asked.
“Granted. Allow us to escort you, Thane-Captain,” stated the Lieutenant who saluted crisply.
“By all means,” she replied, returning the salute.
They moved through the airship, arriving at a gangplank leading outside once more. Across was a large platform, easily one hundred meters square. This was not a utilitarian thing, cobbled together with scraps of wood and metal. It was inlaid with elaborate tile-work that displayed the crest of the Bastion Imperial family, a purple, three-headed falcon on a field of gold.
At the edges of this, very ostentatious, and impracticable, display of wealth and power, stood the Talon Guard. Fanatical Peace-Keepers sworn to protect the Imperial family. Each wore a gleaming steel breastplate, emblazoned with a three-head falcon. They were some of the finest fighters in the Bastion, each one of them eyeing her like she was a savage animal that had wandered in from the wild.
In the center was a throne. Not the High-Imperial throne, that was back at the Keep Paramount. This was a lesser one, as befitting the Forth Scion who sat upon it. A group of advisors and councilors milled about at the base.
Corbyn knew very little of the Fourth Scion, outside of court circles, very few people did. He made public appearances for matters of state or ceremony, but little else. It was unclear as to why. There were rumors, there were always rumors, but they were inconsistent and contradictory, making any assumed insight useless.
A herald proclaimed, “Presenting Thane-Captain Marah Bellona of House Corbyn, commander of the Bastion Air-Ship, Venator!”
Her mother was right, they should’ve sold tickets to this. Corbyn strode along the plush, purple carpet, and knelt. It wasn’t yet time to go off script.
“Arise, Thane-Captain,” said the Fourth Scion.
As she stood, she gazed at this prince. He was blandly handsome, Dressed in a purple Peace-Keeper uniform, adorned with medals and other badges of noble orders. She had to admit, that he seemed unintimidated by the circumstances surrounding him. He was likely trained from birth for these sorts of things.
“You honor me, your highness.”
“We will see about that. It has come to the throne’s attention that you have made a momentous discovery of Prime technology.”
“Indeed, your Highness.”
A small furrow appeared on the Fourth Scion’s brow and he asked, “And yet, you have not brought this treasure back to our homeland nor sent any details back to your superiors. Why is that?”
She toyed with asking why they sent Baron-Brigadier Wrenwood and his gang of murderers to bring her back in chains but quashed the impulse. Instead, she said, “As your Highness surely knows, natural philosophy is a slow process, and cannot be rushed. I would never present incomplete findings to the Throne.”
“Your attitude would be laudable were you only a natural philosopher, but you are also an officer in the Imperial Fleet and it is compulsory for you to report your actions to the Admiralty.”
Smarter than he looks, she thought.
“Justly said, your highness. And I did report this to Duchess-Admiral Corbyn.”
“Your mother.”
“I have the privilege of being her daughter.”
“Why did she not report this?”
“I cannot speak as to the Duchess-Admiral’s thoughts or actions,” she replied without hesitation.
“You have a reputation for a quick mind, Thane-Captain, I can see it is well earned.”
“You flatter me, your highness.”
Ignoring that, he said, “There is also the matter of you declaring war on several city-states.”
An advisor handed him some papers.
“According to reports, there have been attacks on outposts of the Jarlands, the Hexagonal Prefecture, the New Republic of Utajiri, and the Free Provinces.”
“Small incursions, your Highness.”
“Why? We are, or were, in a stretch of peace. Why in the Sky would you start a war on four fronts?”
“I did not start a war. We did not occupy any non-Bastion lands. We merely acquired some necessary components. It was not our intention to injure anyone. Had they been more cooperative, it would been better for them.”
“I have little appetite for semantics, Thane-Captain. The fact remains that you are responsible for the deaths of foreign nationals on their own soil! What could possibly justify such reckless violence?”
“With His Highness’s permission, I will happily demonstrate.”
“If I might suggest-” began one of the councilors.
“Show me what all of this was about,” interrupted the Fourth Scion.
Corbyn removed a small silver and blue device from her sleeve and tapped it. A moment later, with a great whoosh of air, Primus landed in between her and the Fourth Scion. To their credit, the Talon Guard swiftly aimed their pneumatic rifles at the Mechano-Man, and more than a few at Corbyn herself.
Primus knelt and bowed to the Fourth Scion, saying, “It is my honor to meet you, Your Highness. My designation is Primus.”
“Stand down!” the prince shouted.
The Talon Guard followed his orders but Corbyn could still feel their tension.
“Please, stand up,” said the Fourth Scion, who stood up and walked forward.
Primus stood, and as with everything they did, it was with a singular grace.
“Remarkable! What can it do?”
“Your Highness, Primus can answer that themselves.”
“You are self-aware?”
“As I understand that word, yes.”
Reaching out, he asked, “May I?”
“If you wish. I have noticed that physical touch is an important part of biologics accepting new data.”
Running his hand over Primus’s outer casing, the Fourth Scion’s eyes went wide.
“What are you made of?”
“A steel alloy fused with an adjustable ceramic lattice.”
“What does that mean?”
“If I might simplify my response, it is stronger, lighter, and more versatile than any metal your civilization can currently manufacture.”
“How… How powerful are you?”
“That is a very broad question. Based on our surroundings and prevalent mode of dress, may I postulate that you are inquiring about my military prowess?”
“That’s… Yes.”
Primus turned to Corbyn who nodded.
“My offensive capabilities are greater than every city-state combined. Thane-Captain, should I provide a demonstration?”
“Not at the moment, Primus.”
“As you wish.”
The Fourth Scion took a few steps back, looked up at Primus, and a joyous smile dominated his face. Corbyn thought it made him legitimately attractive.
“Read the scroll!” he ordered his advisors and councilors.
“Which scroll, your Highness?” asked one of them who was now frantically rifling through an armful of them.
“The good one!”
“Of course, your highness!”
Pulling out a purple and gold scroll, the advisor cleared his throat and began to read.
“In honor of the devoted service of House Corbyn to the Bastion, Imperator, Maxima Falcis Castile the Seventh, announces the wedding of Thane-Captain Marah Bellona of House Corbyn to Fourth Scion, Ashford Aurelius Castile.”
The Talon Guard all cried “Huzzah!”
Turning to Corbyn with a warm look, he asked, “What do say to that?”
“Thank you, but no,” she said.
All jubilant sounds died with that utterance.
“Pardon?” asked the Fourth Scion.
“A very generous offer but I cannot accept. I’ve got too many things to do.”
Looking at her with a befuddled look he said, “But you were supposed to say yes.”
“I’d make you a terrible wife and it would end very badly. So consider this a kindness.”
As the concept of being denied seeped into his mind, his face turned red, a mixture of rage and embarrassment.
“Seize her and the Mechano-Man!”
The Talon Guard ran forward but Corbyn was prepared. She said, “Primus, second choice.”
“Understood.”
She leapt on Primus’s back and they soared into the sky. It took less than a minute for the automata to destroy every artillery placement on the assembled three fleets. The Talon Guard shot at them but they anticipated such tactics and turned to protect Corbyn. Even so, bullets couldn’t even scratch his armor. Everyone on the platform stared in horror. Corbyn saw, to her pleasure, smoke arising for each airship but all were still airborne. Once done, they flew back to the Imperial platform.
“As you can see your Highness, your fleets are disarmed but your engines are untouched and no lives were lost. Return to the Imperator and let her know that I have important work to do and I will not be a bartered bride. And should that message not be understood, please remind her of the fate of the Brigadier’s Blades. I and my people are to be left alone so we can complete our work. Is that clear?”
The Fourth Scion stared up at them and them and asked, ”So it’s rebellion then?”
She sighed.
“If I had the urge to put myself on the throne, I would have already done that.”
“What are your plans?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. I have work to do. Now it’s time to run along.”
The Writings of Leo Byrne Jenicek 