Act 3 - Depression[]
With A Bared Sword[]
Chapter 53[]
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The Triad, Tharkad
Donegal March, Federated Commonwealth
1 March 305
The first sight of Jackson Davion was an unpleasant surprise for Victor.
Judging by the “What the… are you wearing?” from Morgan Hasek-Davion, his cousin felt likewise.
“I would think that you would recognize it,” the graying Field Marshal replied, indicating the bottle-green uniform and golden half-breastplate of an officer in the Armed Forces of the Federated Suns. “I remember you wearing one like it, Morgan… but I suppose your real question is why?”
“I’m not going to say it doesn’t suit you,” allowed Caesar Steiner from where he stood near the window, “But if I’d known we were digging out old uniforms I’d have to find my old Lyran blues and I’m not sure I’d fit into them anymore.”
“Setting aside Caesar’s exercise regime… or lack thereof…” Victor said, with a dour look at his cousin that had about as much impact as water on a duck’s back. “You’re the first high level representative to arrive from New Avalon since the vote. And as far as I know, Kate managed to swing the vote to keep the Suns inside of the Federated Commonwealth so why the uniform?”
Jackson wasn’t quite at attention (that would have made it hard to meet Victor’s eyes) but he certainly was not at ease. “I may have outpaced some of the reports then. By ComStar, at least. I handed off a diplomatic bag at the drop port which…”
“Is probably still being sorted,” Galen pointed out diplomatically. “The command circuit wouldn’t have outpaced a priority message from New Avalon but at least some of the messages are still going through normal batching.”
Victor nodded in irritation.
“I brought this as a contingency,” Jackson admitted. “I left right after the vote to maintain our nation’s alliance, but between discussions of the merits of the candidates to succeed you, there has also been debate on how to do that. Your sister is trying to reach compromises that will survive if she isn’t elected.” His face grew grim. “Hammond, on the other hand… I am half-ashamed to come from Argyle.”
“I thought you were from Victoria?” the Archon-Prince said in surprise.
The expression on Morgan’s face told him he should have known better, but Jackson snorted. “My mother was, and we’re from that branch of the family. But I was born on Argyle. Anyway, from what I understand, Princess Davion could spend her political capital to keep the AFFC united or to keep the realm on the kroner for now. I’m not privy to her reasoning…”
Victor grunted. “I don’t know how hard it would be to shift the realm off a united currency, but it wouldn’t be good. And… no, I do think I see her logic. As long as our realms are allied, our militaries will be de facto united, so she’s not giving up much.”
Morgan grimaced. “Not that united, or you wouldn’t be wearing that uniform, Jackson?”
“No,” the man agreed. “Not that united. Your highness, I was provisionally sent here to represent the military interests of the Federated Suns. Orders clarifying this caught up with me and I’m under orders to take command of the Federated Suns Expeditionary Forces.”
“What would that be?” demanded the redheaded Marshal of Armies.
“Every former AFFS unit this side of the Terran Corridor,” admitted Jackson.
Victor pushed himself to his feet. “Many of those units have a substantial number of soldiers whose homeworlds are from this side of the Commonwealth. We’ve been integrating units for almost two decades.”
He got a nod. “Among my orders, I am to begin reversing this.”
“And recalling them?” he accused.
“At the moment,” Jackson told him seriously, “The High Council remains committed to sharing in the defense of your worlds. With that said, and I realize that none of this will be done quickly or easily, I am also instructed to arrange the replacement of Lyran flagged commands in the Draconis, Capellan and Crucis Marchs with Suns’ units currently posted along your League and Periphery borders.”
Morgan leant forwards. “You said these are your orders,” he demanded. “Whose orders?”
The answer was frigid: “Your mother’s, sir.”
“I believe Morgan meant on the military side,” Victor offered, trying to de-escalate. “If you’re no longer heading the Federated Suns state command, who exactly are you reporting to? I believe Aunt Marie’s military credentials ended with washing out of Albion before any of us here were born.”
“Ardan Sortek remains Prince’s Champion,” replied Jackson, slightly more warmly. “In the absence of a First Prince, he has been appointed to take charge of all military duties that would usually fall to the Supreme Marshal.”
The Archon-Prince considered that and then nodded. “Good choice. Since the High Council can hardly expect to simply have their way in all things, I trust that Uncle Ardan authorized you to negotiate how we’re to work together?”
He got a nod. “That’s my reason for being here in the first place. I have no intention of trying to split off operational command from you or Caesar, Marshal Hasek-Davion. I’m not entirely sure that all the High Council are acquainted with the realities of military operations but Marshal Sortek and I have no intention of compromising your security with unrealistic demands.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Caesar said brightly. “You brought a staff?”
“A small one.”
“Great, we’ll get you set up with office space for them and…” He grinned. “We can talk about all the details over dinner.”
Jackson Davion didn’t say ‘Lyrans!’ but he was clearly thinking it.
“I’ll have to leave it to the rest of you,” Victor said heavily. “You came close to missing my departure for Coventry.”
“I’m sure you would rather face a thousand deaths, sir.”
“Over staying here and deal with the political mess?” the Archon-Prince - or was he just the Archon now? No, that would be premature - asked sarcastically. “No, not quite that much.”
“I think I’d rather fight the Clans,” Galen commented, and no one in the room leapt to disagree.
“I do have to ask, what the hell happened on New Avalon,” Morgan asked, filling the lull in question. “You were there, Jackson. How did things get that bad?”
“Well,” the Field Marshal said, “You weren’t there. Either of you,” he added, looking between Morgan and Victor. “While the cat’s away, the mice will play. Surely the princess told you.”
Thinking back to the letters he’d reviewed, Victor took little pleasure in seeing his cousin catch the same criticism. “‘In addition, come back to New Avalon, Victor,” he admitted. “I’m paraphrasing, but that was in pretty much every message sent.”
Jackson spread his hands. “Then why didn’t you? Most of the High Council could have forgiven mistakes, your highness. But they couldn’t accept a ruler who didn’t seem to care.”
He closed his eyes for a moment as the claim hit home. “I always intended to,” Victor replied when he was sure he wouldn’t shout. “There was always another crisis to push it back. Kate has always been more able than she believed, I figured that at least in part her asking was lack of confidence not immediate need.” He paused. “And pretty much every message from Hammond Davion told me how well she was doing, that a poor poll here and there wasn’t something to worry about.”
“If you have so much faith in your sister, then why didn’t you listen to her over the Duke?”
There was no good answer to that and Victor knew it.
“Was Hammond behind it?” Morgan asked grimly.
“Not as far as I know. I’m not really in his confidence to any great extent.” It was Jackson’s turn to look uncomfortable. “Whether or not he tried to stop the vote I don’t know but he was certainly campaigning for nomination as your successor.”
“So he may or may not be a traitor to the realm, but he certainly betrayed me,” Victor said quietly. “And Kate too.”
“Your sister,” Jackson began indignantly.
“No, you misunderstood,” he shook his head. “I know my sister stood up for me through thick and thin. I mean Hammond betrayed her. If she beats him, he won’t be Minister of the Crucis March longer than it takes her to find a replacement.”
“I know who my money is on.” Galen noted loyally.
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