[X] Member of the Regency Council. You would give up being Vicereine and represent the Royal Family on the Regency Council; if the Empress need you for a personal mission, you would need to quite discrete, but this would be the option of least drama.
- Mandat de l'impératrice des Cieux -
You stand there, lips pursed, thinking. Ahri's Compromise is rejected immediately; you don't think it's a good idea. You aren't interested in being the Regent either; you don't want to be tied down with governing, and there's a reason the Chancellor is by default the Regent, and let's not get into the optics of how ridiculously Ahri is favoring you. That leaves sitting on the Regency Council, which
is the option you prefer, and is the reason you were initially recalled to Jinko-Sei in the first place.
"My advice," you tell Ahri, "is that I should relinquish the office of Imperial Vicereine and sit on the Regency Council as one of your advisors, and you should withdraw the appointment of an Imperial Vicereine." You raise a finger, forestalling Ahri's protest. "I also know
why you wanted a Vicereine: you wanted someone who was going to be on your side, supporting you. Well, you don't have a Vicereine, not officially, but I'm still going to be on your side, I will
always be on your side, and if you need my personal assistance, I can still help you. We'll just have to be discrete. It's fine to leave the Chancellor in his position as Regent; he has to keep the Empire running anyway, that's what his role in the government and Regent boil down to."
Ahri still looks a tad unhappy - she didn't get her way, after all - but she nods in acquiescence and she walks over to the Imperial Chancellor and the Lord Chief Justice. "My Lord Chancellor," she addresses him. "I have made my decision. I consent to my royal cousin relinquishing her office as Imperial Vicereine and taking up her position on the Regency Council. I shall withdraw the appointment of an Imperial Vicereine. Furthermore, I see no reason why you cannot continue in your office as Regent; I look forward to your wise counsel and your continued service in administering my realm."
The Chancellor nods slightly with a smile.
She turns to the Lord Chief Justice. "My Lord Chief Justice, thank you, for the wisdom you have shared with us in this meeting. You have my gratitude."
"Tis merely my duty, Your Majesty."
That could have been better, but that could also have gone a lot worse, you think, as both men murmur their acceptance to the Empress. You nod to the Chancellor. "Shall we inform the rest of the council of this result?"
"Yes, quite so, Your Highness." As Ahri moves out of earshot, he leans closer to you. "I'd say that was quite a feat, getting Her Majesty to change her mind. It's a pity, you would have made an excellent Regent, ma'am."
"I trust in your wisdom and experience, Lord Chancellor," you reply. "I have conveyed that trust to Her Majesty, and I believe she will have the same confidence in you as the late Empress had. Do keep up the good work; your deft hand in guiding Her Majesty's Empire is akin to that of a master painter working with brush and canvas. I, a mere hobbyist, would not presume to challenge a master in his chosen field."
The Imperial Chancellor smiles at you. "You flatter me, Your Highness. But surely the task of being Regent would be more suited for an intelligent and energetic, not to mention beautiful, young woman in the prime of her life?"
"You flatter me in turn, Lord Chancellor. Would you mind it terribly if I speak plainly?"
"By all means, please do ma'am."
"Stefan, you won't get out of this job
that easily, not on my watch, and most certainly not on my father's," you say, smiling sweetly at him. The Chancellor merely chuckles lightly, and inclines his head to you.
"Well, this old man had to give it a try. Well played, Your Highness."
You nod pleasantly to him in return and you exit the waiting room. The faces of the Regency Council are blank, with the practiced calm nobles affect, though you can see clear interest and anticipation in the eyes of one woman: Lady Akagi Sumeragi, the Heir Apparent to the Great House of Sumeragi. Empress Meigyoku nods to the Chancellor, and he announces the result of the discussion to the council: you will resign the office of Imperial Vicereine and take up your place on the Regency Council, and the Empress will withdraw her appointment of an Imperial Vicereine. A palpable murmur of relief moves through the Regency Council, and they nod in agreement and praise the Empress for her wisdom and maturity.
Lady Akagi Sumeragi hides it, but you can tell she's quite displeased with this result. And no wonder. Becoming the Imperial Viceroy and sitting on the Regency Council would have been a case of a power imbalance and conflict of interest. Becoming the Regent would have been outright favoritism. She could spin both outcomes against the Empress and yourself, but she doesn't have the same ammunition in this situation: a member of the Royal Family, serving on the Regency Council as a representative of the Royal Family, as is proper. As what should have been done from the start.
You make a mental note to see Ahri as soon as possible and start fixing her lack of political instruction. It's painfully obvious to you (and probably the Regency Council as well) that she's woefully unprepared to rule, and in the farthest corner of your mind, a seditious voice is cursing out the late Empress - your late Aunt - for not preparing her daughter to rule. You started your political instruction when you were eight, and you kept up with your training even when you were juggling life and duties as a junior naval officer. It's a wonder the studying and stress didn't turn your beautiful auburn hair to gray.
The Chancellor and the stewards are quite efficient: within a few minutes everyone is lined up and you stand before the microphone once more. You officially resign your office as Imperial Vicereine and the Empress accepts your resignation. You take your oath as a member of the Regency Council and you are sworn in, and as the last matter of business, the Empress formally announces that she is withdrawing the appointment of an Imperial Vicereine. You imagine you feel a sigh of relief passing through the council (well, anyone who isn't Lady Akagi).
"If there is no further comment," says the Chancellor, "I would like to adjourn this meeting. The Regency Council shall reconvene in two weeks' time, on the 28th of May. I shall personally relay the result to the Secretariat. The Imperial Gazette should be published within the hour. Your Majesty, My Lords, My Ladies." He bows formally to the Empress, who returns his bow with a nod, and then to the Regency Council, before making his exit with the rest of the Regency Council. You let out a breath you didn't realise you'd been holding, and sigh.
You idly glance at the clock in the corner, and make your decision. It's late morning, not yet noon, but nevermind, you'll just have an early lunch, and maybe a drink, or two, or three: you feel you've earned it. You don't really have anything to do today, just the usual paperwork that a fleet generates upon returning to port (if returning much earlier than expected), but you've already gotten a head start on that. And anyway, that's what having a staff is for.
Your Flag Lieutenant, Emiri Suzuhara, is waiting for you outside the audience chamber. Her No.1 Full Dress Blues are just as immaculate as yours, with the gold and dark blue Staff aiguillette on her left. She comes to attention as you approach. "All done, ma'am?"
"For now," you reply. "Any news while I was gone?"
"Commander Fleet Operations' office called. They requested you push up your meeting at Admiralty House to 1700 today, instead of 1000 tomorrow as originally planned. If it was convenient for you."
"Yes, I suppose I had better make it convenient for me," you muse, sharing a wry look with her, both of you mentally lampshading the order framed as a request. "Have you notified the Fleet Adjutant?"
"Aye Ma'am, I've advised Captain O'Farrell," she replies. "I've also notified the shuttle. They're warming up and preparing for our departure. Pilot requests you advise him whether you want to RTB to
Yamato or proceed elsewhere."
"I think RTB," you say, pulling your sleeve back and checking your watch. There are indeed privelages to being a member of the Royal Family; unlike everyone else, who has to take a tram up and down the side of the mountain atop which Huangshan Palace is built, your shuttle gets to land at the Palace's landing pad. It makes things a lot more convinient. "We can have an early lunch and get squared away before I need to meet COMFLTOPS."
"Your Highness," murmurs a palace steward, discreetly grabbing your attention. "Her Majesty requests that you attend luncheon with her."
"Of course, I would be delighted to attend to Her Majesty," you agree, immediately shifting gears with a mental sigh. "Could you please see to luncheon for my staff, if it's not too much trouble?"
"Of course, ma'am."
- 女王之天命 –
You're ushered into the Empress' private apartments, into the sitting room. It's not the first time you've been here, but it's the first time you've been here in awhile.
The Empress enters moments later, her formal robes replaced with a white and pink ensemble that's significantly more casual and shows off her legs. With her face free of makeup, she looks younger, more vulnerable, and a memory flits through your mind -
Ahri, five years old, running across the lawn, happily crying "Onee! Onee!", laughing as you lift her up and twirl her in the air, wrapping her tiny chubby arms around you and resting her head on your shoulder as you carry her in your arms and shower her with kisses -
"Cousin," you greet her, bowing, and her expression is displeased. "You don't need to bow to me, Onee-sama," she says. "And you can always call me Ahri."
"My father and mother and I bowed to Auntie," you say calmly. "
You bowed to Auntie, because she was the Empress. It's the same for you, Ahri. You're no longer just my cousin who I played with and brushed her tails and read her bedtime stories and kissed her goodnight: you're the Empress now, with the responsibilities, privileges and courtesies that entails."
Ahri's face twists unhappily, but she nods and takes your hand. "Let's talk before lunch," she invites you, leading you to the couch. She sits at one end, and gestures for you to sit next to her, before kicking off her shoes and tucking her legs under herself, turning to face you. "You said, earlier, that I technically could appoint a Vicereine, but couldn't practically?"
Still a child, you sigh mentally. Oh well. Political education has to start somewhere.
"Things are a lot more complicated than just making declarations," you say. "Yes, technically, the Empress has the authority to appoint a Vicereine, but there's nuance that you missed. You're a minor, you haven't had your coronation, and until you reach your majority, until you are prepared to rule, the Regency Council rule in your name. They don't do any major policy changes, they avoid upheaval, their job is to keep the status quo until you become Empress. Any major decisions you want to make should have been made in consultation with the Council, not unilaterally. That's what had them concerned. And then there's the whole appointment of an Imperial Vicereine. When was the last time a Vicereine was appointed?"
"...a long time ago," she admits reluctantly.
"Exactly my point. There hasn't been a Vicereine or a Viceroy in living memory. The last one was maybe five Empresses ago, if I recall correctly. You appointing a Vicereine is a signal to the Council that you do not trust them." You give Ahri a flat look; she quails a bit under your gaze, and then nods. You sigh. "That was not the best way to begin your rule. You really shouldn't have done that."
Ahri's face is downcast, her tails drooping. She nods jerkily, trying to blink back tears. "If it was a bad idea, if you didn't want to do it, why did you go along?" she asks.
"Politics, tradition, and constitutional conventions, that's why," you tell her, and sigh again at her confused expression. She really needs to work on her poker face. "There is an unspoken constitutional convention that when the Empress makes a formal request of you, you do not refuse her," you begin. "However, in practical terms, there's an understanding that people may have legitimate reasons for refusing an imperial request, so what should have happened is that your political secretary should have approached me and asked me, "Would you agree to the Empress' request to be Her Imperial Vicereine?" Then if I'd said no, he'd just move on to the next candidate, no harm done. But because you sent your missive so publicly, I didn't have the option to refuse - not if I wanted to still preserve convention and tradition. So I came, I played along, and then as soon as I could, I met you to talk you into reversing that decision. Yes, the popular image is that the Empress rules by decree and nobody disobeys her, but in practical terms, we follow traditions and convention because it's part of the social contract, the unwritten constitutional law of the Empire. There's only so far you can push people."
Ahri nods slowly, an unhappy expression on her face. "I've messed up, haven't I?"
"You have, but it's nothing that we couldn't fix," you say gently. "I meant what I said in the waiting room. I'm here to help you. That means not just advising you but also training you to rule. Know this: You might not trust the Regency Council, but I'm still your onee-sama and I will always look out for you, and I want you to succeed. But it's a two-way street. You need to do your part."
Ahri dives forward, tackling you against the couch's armrest, wrapping her arms around you and burying her face in your generous bust. You return her hug, one hand gently stroking her head, as you watch her tails wagging in happiness.
"Thank you," she mumbles against your chest. You merely smile, and plant a kiss to her head.
- 女王之天命 –
Ahri has always been clingy. You spend a fair bit of time in her death hug, before there is a discrete knock at the door. You gently shake her loose, and give the steward permission to enter; the steward announces that lunch is ready, and escorts you and Ahri to the dining room. You note the table settings: for two, with you at the Empress' right side. Intimate and familiar, instead of reserved and formal. The table has been set, with the main courses on your plates and various side dishes on the table; once the stewards have served both of you, Ahri politely requests privacy. The stewards retreat, Ahri kicks off her shoes, and lunch carries on.
It's actually quite pleasant, having lunch with her, where, for a moment, you can just pretend that you're a naval officer on leave having lunch with her little sister.
You do your best to be a considerate, comforting presence during lunch: Ahri is obviously lonely and hurting, with her parents both dead and no other family around. Unfortunately, the way you know to deal with loss - have a beach bonfire, drink lots of alcohol, tell embarrassing stories of the deceased, raise merry hell - is for spacers, not teenage girls. So you try to keep the conversation on lighter topics, about how Ahri's days are ("lonely and boring"), her schooling ("I guess I kinda dropped out after Mama died?"), her love life ("Well, there's someone, but I'm not sure if they feel the same way?").
By paying attention, asking the right questions, and listening to Ahri, you develop a mental picture of her education. Academically she's more or less middle of the road, neither a star student nor bottom of her class, and she has a decent grasp of general knowledge. Her political education is severely lacking; what knowledge she has is shallow and incomplete. You find yourself getting annoyed at Auntie again. You guess that she probably wanted to give Ahri the nice, easy, relaxed childhood that she never had, and that's not an inherently bad idea, except that Auntie went and died suddenly and left Ahri holding the ball.
Damnit, Auntie.
Unfortunately, Ahri has also found 9chan, and is a little too taken in by the conspiracy theories floating on that message board. Case in point: the Egon system. She's utterly convinced that there's hanky-panky going on down there, and that House Sumeragi is making a landgrab, and she's
this close from storming into the regency council and confronting Lady Akagi on her House's actions and oh could oneesama please take her fleet to Egon and go and sort out everyone and assert her dominance?
"How do you know all this?" you ask, feeling imminent migraines in your future.
"I read it on 9chan! And there was mention of PMC activity in Egon and other outlying systems in the boxes."
You give Ahri a flat look, and then bury your face in your hands and tails. "I'm not going to take my fleet to Egon and fix things at gunpoint, Ahri," you say tiredly. "It doesn't work like that. What I will do is this: I will look into the matter, and I will let you know what I find, and I will only head to Egon on a fact finding mission if I am satisfied there's hanky-panky that needs to be sorted out. In return, you will study up on Imperial Rulership in a topic I choose for you. Do your homework on this: I will quiz you later. Understand that this is just a temporary arrangement until I schedule proper tutors for you, and you
will study under them. Okay?"
Your tone makes it very clear that this is not a request. Ahri nods energetically and obediently at you.
What topic do you want Ahri to study?
[ ] Political Etiquette
[ ] Constitutional Law
[ ] Crisis Management
[ ] Governance
- 女王之天命 –
"Respectfully, Ma'am, that has got to be one of the stupidest things I've ever heard," says your Fleet Adjutant, Captain Daniel O'Farrell, in your office aboard your flagship, battleship
Yamato. He shakes his head. "Our Empress is relying on social media and those idiots on 9chan for her intelligence brief."
"It
was in the boxes as well," you point out, referring to the boxes carrying the daily briefing packets for the Empress. "Could you help me look into this, please? I think we both expect we'll find nothing going on, but hard proof is always good."
Daniel gives you a doubtful look, but nods and makes a note on his to-do list. You appreciate that; he has the right mix of voicing out his opinion and being your sounding board, and shutting up and getting things done. "Well, I think that's business taken care of for the day. Is there anything further you'll need from me, Ma'am?"
"There is one thing," you say. "You know I'm going to be reassigned from 13th Fleet, my duties on the Regency Council will keep me tied down to the capital."
"It's not a surprise. We'll miss you, Ma'am," says Daniel sincerely.
"Thanks, I appreciate that. But you'll have the chance to continue working with me, if you like. I'd like to offer you a position as my Equerry."
"Admiral, don't you already have a lady-in-waiting?"
"I do, yes, but Kitakami can't do the things I need. I'd like you working for me, because of your skillset. If you say yes, I'll arrange things with Personnel and see you're appointed as my Equerry. You'd get several special allowances in addition to your Navy pay, there's an excellent benefits package… you'd have a fair amount of autonomy and the freedom to choose your staff, and a comfortable operating budget."
"You want me to lead your private intelligence team for proactive troubleshooting, and to generate political intelligence on your potential rivals," says Daniel thoughtfully, and you nod at him. "Could I have some time to think about it, ma'am?"
"Sure, but I'll need to know your answer by end of the week, so I can start things rolling," you tell him. "Whichever way you choose, I'll respect your decision."
"Thank you, ma'am. I'm honored you think so highly of me."
- 女王之天命 –
Admiralty House. The modest name belies the size of the structure, a sprawling complex serving as the administrative headquarters of the Imperial Navy. You make your way to the office of Commander Fleet Operations. One of five Fleet Admirals in the Navy, and third in command after the First Star Lord and the Deputy Chief of the Naval Staff, Commander Fleet Operations manages and commands the Imperial Navy's deployments throughout the Empire. The First Star Lord sets the Navy's policy; ComFltOps executes that policy.
"Vice Admiral Yui Akasha, Commander 13th Fleet, reporting."
Commander Fleet Operations stands and returns your salute, and waves you to a chair before his desk. You're both wearing Service Dress Blues, but in contrast to your immaculate inspection-ready uniform, his uniform jacket is tossed on a polehanger behind his office chair, his tie is loosed, and his shirtsleeves have been rolled up. Half of his desk is covered in a haphazard array of hard copies, post-it notes and sheets from a legal pad with handwritten notes; wargaming warship miniatures act as paperweights, keeping things from flying all over the place. A small smile slips past your lips, sentimental nostalgic memories coming to the fore. Some things will never change.
You place your briefcase and your small carry case on the floor, settling your hands in your lap. He makes eye contact with you and shrugs, his hands making a vague "What can you do?" gesture at his desk, and he takes his seat.
"Welcome back, Vice Admiral Akasha," says Fleet Admiral Yonatan Chew formally, looking you in the eye. "Don't stand on ceremony, we've got a lot of things to clear by tonight."
"Then let's dig up that shit, Skipper," you say, and he relaxes, cracks his knuckles, and gives you a genuine, pleased smile.
"I trained you well," he says, his face taking on an annoyed expression. "Though not well enough to skip saluting when neither of us can be bothered to do so." He scowls at you, and you smile innocently back at him. He grabs a set of printed orders from one corner of his occupied desk and hands them to you. "Your orders. Cutting the legalese out: you're being relieved of command of 13th Fleet and reassigned TDY to Admiralty House, so that you can easily pop around to the Palace, because the Empress has appointed you as her Pimp Hand. You've got two weeks to settle your admin shit as Commander 13th Fleet."
Half of you is horrified at how cavalierly and irreverently he's treating Ahri's intent to appoint you as Imperial Vicereine; the other half of you that spent the last decade of her life in the Navy agrees wholeheartedly with his assessment. "Technically, I resigned my appointment as Imperial Vicereine; I'm just sitting on the Regency Council."
"Okay, so you're the Empress's
unofficial Vicereine," he continues unrepentantly, rolling his eyes at your raised eyebrow. "What? I'm a salty old timer with a nonexistent social life, I need to find
some amusement in my work. This shit's boring as all hell, it'd put me to sleep if I took it seriously."
That's a lie, you think to yourself. You know Fleet Admiral Chew quite well; you've been his Flag Lieutenant and later his adjutant, many years ago, and in many ways, despite the utter difference in your social standings and backgrounds, he's been more of a mentor to you than your own father, especially concerning your naval career. He pretends that he doesn't give a shit, but that's a lie, a facade he wears; he cares deeply and takes his duties quite seriously. If anything, as your father once said, he gives too much of a shit.
You make a placating gesture with your hands and nod at him. "I expected as much, really. I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to give up my command. I
earned my place there. There's more that I want to do with 13th Fleet, to make it the best fleet in the Navy. But the Empress commands and we obey," you say, quoting the traditional marching song.
Yonatan looks at you sympathetically. "It's never easy to give up your command," he agrees. "On the other hand it's happened already before, this isn't the first time, so get over it and get on with things."
"Skipper, you've never gotten over losing
Fubuki," you say, pointing at the scale model that's prominently placed in his bookshelf. Destroyer
Fubuki was Yonatan Chew's first posting as a young enlisted spacer, and his first command as a mustang officer who'd worked his way up the ladder. When she was finally decommissioned and sent to the breakers, he was inconsolable.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he says blandly, and you just give him a flat look at his lie, choosing not to call him out. "Still. You need to get over it because 13th Fleet is going to be disbanded."
"Fleet Admiral, I beg your pardon," you say, very carefully and formally. "My ears must be deceiving me. You are disbanding my fleet?"
"Excuse me. Whose fleet do you really think that is?" he retorts, the smooth upper-class accent giving way to the rougher tones of his commoner middle-class background. "It's the Empress's fleet, your cousin's fleet." He shakes his head chidingly. "I'm Commander Fleet Operations, my job is to act as caretaker of Her Majesty's navy for the good of the service. Follow me, I'll show you something."
He opens a connecting door and leads you to the adjacent meeting room, and you raise an eyebrow at how he's turned the conference table in the center into an old-school map table: a large printed map of the Golden Orchid Empire's territory is splayed out on the table. A transparent sheet covers it, and you take note of the notations he's scribbled here and there, the border lines drawn between the Great Houses, the breakdown of the empire into the Navy's 12 Administrative Sectors, plastic toy bricks used to represent Imperial Navy formations…
"You know, Sir, there
is such a thing as a holoprojector. Or a computer," you say chidingly. "I pity your adjutant who needs to take care of all this."
"There's something to be said for tactile kinesthetic sensations improving memory retention, and an old-school map table gives you a certain impression of the fleet's posture."
"With
Legos."
"
Color-coded Legos," he stresses. "Look at the map. There's a method to my madness. Each two-by-four brick is a division: black for BB, grey for BC, red for CA, yellow for CL, blue for DD. Bricks in the tray on the left corner are ships working up to deploy. Bricks in that tray in the right corner are ships in refit. That box there, all the ships laid up in ordinary. Look at it, and tell me what you see."
You give the map a thorough examination. Your brows furrow as you look at the notations by each system on the strength of the local system defense forces, especially those of the Great Houses. You look at Imperial Navy deployments throughout the Empire - the Core systems, the Great Houses' territories, the Inner and Outer Rim - and at the ships in refit, working up, and in mothballs, and your face takes on a grim expression.
You work your way from one side of the map to the other, then go over the map again, and recheck your mental figures. They don't lie. You turn to Fleet Admiral Yonatan. "We don't have enough ships."
"We don't have enough ships," he agrees grimly, mirroring your expression. "Forty percent of the total fleet is laid up; the rest is split roughly evenly between deployment, working up, and refit. At any given moment, maybe about only twenty percent of the fleet is actually deployed to cover five hundred systems. It's all smoke and mirrors and a shitton of bluffing." He gestures bitterly at the box labeled Inactive Reserve. "Forty percent of my total fleet strength fucking laid up in ordinary, because those fucking greedy tightfisted Senators keep refusing to increase Navy funding, and past Empresses were too weak and complacent and just kept to the status quo. And then those asshats introduced that Bill to see mothballed Navy ships given to local garrisons. And even if I had the crews and funding, I can't even reactivate the mothball fleet, because we've been cannibalising those ships for parts to keep the Fleet going. Bloody hell, I knew there were problems, but then when I get here and I really started to dig deep…"
"I didn't realise things were that bad," you say, honestly shocked, and he gives you a flat look.
"Yui,
please. When you took over 13th Fleet you cycled the fleet through refit at your family's shipyards, and paid for the refit out of your own pocket, because it was faster than working through Navy bureaucracy and getting spares made was faster than waiting for Logistics Command."
You nod, acknowledging his point.
"Strategic situation is deteriorating," he continues, taking a pointer stick and pointing out hotspots. "Unrest is increasing in the Outer Rim, more and more systems are making noises about seceding, about their manifest destiny and self determination. I'm glad it was you who came back to be the Vicereine, because I need your dad out there, keeping a lid on things and propping up loyalists.
"Pirate activity is on the rise outside the Core: it's not just armed merchantmen, we're seeing a lot more serious hardware. Frigates, destroyers, even the odd cruiser are showing up in pirate hands. NavInt has a joint task force with IRG and the taxmen to try find who's selling their hardware to pirates. We also can't discount the idea of nobles using cutouts to sabo their rivals.
"I'm stripping the Core to get more hulls patrolling the Inner and Outer Rim, and that means the balance of power between the Navy and the Great Houses is shifting away from us. Used to be that if the Great Houses tried to start shit the Navy could manfight all of them at once. Now? We're losing local numerical and firepower superiority. Yeah, if I pull in and concentrate fleet assets I can still rollover Sumeragi, but that means uncovering other areas."
"That's what 13th Fleet is for," you counter. "Conducting presence patrols and freedom of navigation exercises in the Core to remind everyone not to get ideas, while having enough firepower to overwhelm any single system's forces, and serving as a mobile reserve for the Administrative Sectors."
"Yeah well, that's not cutting it anymore. You've got twenty two percent of the deployed capship strength and ten percent of deployed cruisers concentrated in 13th Fleet. I need those ships out patrolling the Rim and reinforcing fleets, not burning up reaction mass and spares flying around the Core, T-posing and dickwaving at your Royal Family's rivals and allies. Shiki's been begging me for heavier assets for months now: the Sumeragi-Hoou border looks to be another possible flashpoint." He taps the map, at the ships assigned to 4th Fleet, commanded by Admiral Kanda Shiki, an old shipmate of yours. "Tensions are rising between both Great Houses, their ships are playing chicken with each other on their borders and harassing each other's merchant shipping, and sooner or later we're going to have an incident. Best case it's just a border violation that ends in a collision, worse case those dumbfucks will start a war. Shiki has 4th Fleet's screening units on patrol, so far they've been able to keep a lid on things for now, but he's been screaming for heavier units to reinforce him. And then if that wasn't enough, both sides are courting experienced Navy personnel as cadre for their forces, and Hoou's on a crash building program, spamming corvettes in every system."
"I agree it's a serious situation, but corvettes aren't FTL-capable. They're area denial assets, you can't project power with them," you point out. "One destroyer is as good as four corvettes. Six, if you know what you're doing. "
Yonatan wordlessly snags a specification sheet and hands it to you. You read over the information, and then sigh defeatedly, shaking your head ruefully. "Tonnage, sensors, weapons fitout… Hoou's latest corvette design is a destroyer in all but name. And the spooks missed this?"
"They looked at the word corvette and took it at face value. Then someone
really looked at the spec sheet. Heads rolled at NavInt." Yonatan has a sardonic look on his face. "You're still right that these heavy corvettes are area denial assets, but they will make Hoou a harder turtle to kill, if we have to go and beat their faces in. For an Empire at peace, it does seem like two of the Great Houses are gearing up for war. NavInt also suspects that Eisenwald may be quietly rearming, but so they haven't made any trouble yet. Peyrac-Beausoli's posture appears cautious. And Fenghuang, for all they're supposed to be allied with Sumeragi, aren't making any moves to arm up or secede, which is why I've only got a token force in their territory."
"I'm not surprised about Hoou and Sumeragi," you muse. "The way the legends tell it, they were rivals for the throne during the Founding, at least until my divine ancestor won the throne and put them in their places."
"They need to get over their butthurt," says Yonatan tiredly. "Come on." He leads you back to his office and takes his chair and seems to sag, the weight of his responsibilities weighing down on him. He gives you a wry look. "So. It has come to this. That's why I need to disband 13th Fleet. I'll parcel out the capships to Shiki and other combatant commanders, I'll send your cruisers to the Rim-"
"Apologies, Fleet Admiral, but it occurs to me that if you're emptying the Core, there'll be less ships available to do inspection patrols and make sure the nobles aren't building ships they're not supposed to."
"That's supposed to be the taxmen and the IRG's job, not ours," he grouses. "Yes, I'm concerned about that as well - hell, I'm pretty sure some systems Rimward and Coreward are already secretly building destroyers and cruisers off the books, I just can't prove it. I don't like it either, but I'm trying to keep the Rim from descending into anarchy and secession. Once that's fixed, maybe then I can spare some more attention for the Core." He looks at his watch, and then comes to a decision. He reaches under his desk, and pulls out an unopened glass bottle: Vin Clar, the Imperial sake, made on Beausoli, capital world of the Great House of Peyrac-Beausoli. It's the most expensive, most exclusive sake money can buy, sold only to the most discerning of customers. "Consider this my bribe to you, to ease the blow of losing your fleet."
You raise an appreciative eyebrow at the bottle and accept it graciously. "I have a counteroffer instead," you say, settling the bottle on the desk and reaching inside your carry case. You remove a bottle of twelve-year old Nectar Doré; the golden-hued whiskey is the most expensive, most exclusive whiskey, sold only to the most discerning of customers: the Imperial Whiskey, also made by Beausoli, companion product to the Vin Clar that Yonatan offers to you. "Fleet Admiral. Please accept this as a token of our long relationship, of our friendship, of how you mentored me and guided my career. Please accept this, my bribe to you, to keep my fleet whole, and not torn asunder."
Yonatan's eyes widen and then narrow, and he leans forward. You smile innocently at him. Your mentor's tastes might generally run to the simpler things in life, but he makes an exception for good whiskey. (Although calling this good whiskey would be an insult, it's the best whiskey in the Empire). Wordlessly, he takes the bottle, and reaches under his desk, and produces another bottle of Vin Clar, with a raised eyebrow.
With your best "butter won't melt in my mouth" expression, you produce another bottle of Nectar Doré from your carry case.
"...right, nevermind, let's call it a draw," says Yonatan, making surrendering hand gestures, reaching into his desk and producing a pair of mugs, setting them to the side. "I'm sure you want to plead 13th Fleet's case, have at it."
You lean back, thoughtful. "My first instinct is to keep 13 Fleet as a whole," you tell him. "13th Fleet's original purpose is still, I believe, a valid concern. The Navy needs some strength left in the Core if anybody gets uppity. 13th Fleet serves as a fleet in being, as a constant threat that must be respected, because you'd need to mass the entirety of a Great House's personal forces to fight 13th Fleet."
"There's an argument to be made that the IRG better fulfills that purpose," says Yonatan mildly, ticking off his fingers. "The Capital Defense Fleet, the Dragon Fleets, the RAGTFs…"
"But they aren't
Navy assets," you counter.
"No, but so long as Admiralty House is on Jinko-sei, so long as Ame-no-Mihashira is a joint IN-IRG base, they'll make more than a token effort to defend us as part of their umbrella of protection over the capital world and the Empress' residence. Plus, being the Empress's unofficial Vicereine, you should probably be able to call on IRG assistance if you have to do any fact finding or smackdowns. You don't need Navy ships for that."
"And you don't need ships in the Core?"
"I told you already, I'd like to have ships Coreward, but I don't see the point keeping twenty two percent of my deployed capships and ten percent of my deployed cruisers in safe zones when i could send them to flashpoints instead."
You purse your lips and consider. "A compromise, perhaps? Reduce 13th Fleet. Send some capships as reinforcements, send the bulk of the cruisers to the Rim, and keep a minimal screen. This keeps 13th Fleet Coreward for presence patrols and still available as a reserve for anyone who needs heavy combat units."
"The weakness of that plan is it's neither here nor there," muses Yonatan. "It's a helluva lot easier to ambush a bunch of battleships and battlecruisers who don't have a screen, y'know." He looks out the window at the setting sun, and makes a decision. "Fuck it, enough work talk. Write a memo later, if you want to put your opinion on the record. For now, for the next two weeks anyhow, just take care of your fleet and kau tim everything."
"Of course, Sir."
In your memo, what opinion will you advance?
[ ] Disband 13th Fleet.
[ ] Keep 13th Fleet.
[ ] Reduce 13th Fleet.
Yonatan cracks open a bottle, and pours a finger of whiskey into each mug, and hands one to you, inhaling the scent appreciatively from his own mug. "Thanks, by the way. I appreciate it, Yui."
You nod your thanks and toast him with your mug, taking an appreciative sip of the neat whiskey. "One thing I've always wondered about, Skipper. Why do you always drink whiskey out of mugs?"
Yonatan gives you a look, like he can't believe you're asking him the answer to an obvious question. "You've been in the Navy for how long? And you still don't know this? Camouflage from the fun police."
You give him a disbelieving look. "You're a
Fleet Admiral. I'm a
Vice Admiral. We
are the fun police."
"Less talking, more drinking. You hungry?"
- 女王之天命 –
"We're in Admiralty House. There's a mess. There's an executive chef available to cater to flag officers. We could order food delivery from FoodPanda. You're a Fleet Admiral, you can afford takeout from Balthazar's, four blocks away. And instead of all that,
you're eating MREs."
"Food is food what," says Yonatan, tossing an MRE packet at you. "And this is the good stuff. Ham fried rice with sausages in sauce and beef and beans. And kimchi. Needs more salt though."
On one hand, you have a refined palate that must be protected from being ruined by the travesty to good taste that is the Meal Ready to Eat. On the other hand, the sun has set, you've been here for a while, and you
are hungry.
You sigh and open the MRE packet, activating the warming element and letting it "cook" your food, and dig in, shaking your head. There's an unpleasant feeling in your stomach, not just because of your anticipation for the MRE. You've worked hard and served diligently and busted your ass, and now your fleet is being disbanded and scattered to the winds.
Yonatan has a knowing look in his eyes, as he gazes at you over the brim of his own MRE. "You need to get over it, y'know," he says gently. "Besides, think of it this way: losing 13th Fleet's no big deal, because you're the worst combat commander I have."
You choke on a mouthful of fried rice and cough, spluttering indignantly.
"Excuse me?"
"It's true, ah girl," says Yonatan unrepentantly, using your childhood nickname. "Of all my combat commanders, in terms of tactical and strategic acumen, you're just about competent. That's why you got 13th Fleet, patrolling Coreward. Alastor von Toth got the Despa Sector fleet on the Outer Rim, I put Kanda Shiki with 4th Fleet on the Hoou-Sumeragi border, because quite frankly out of the three of you I trust them the most to handle themselves in combat."
You give him a hurt look, and your mouth opens to retort-
"On the other hand, you're the best damn adjutant I ever had." He sighs wistfully, staring off into the distance. "I shoulda yelled at your dad more about this; he really wanted you to go command track like him, and you really wanted to be just like him, but really, you're better suited as a staff officer. Like, you're diligent, you're careful, you're conscientious, you make sure of your commander's intent and then you go out and you get things done. That's like, gold, right there. You know how many morons can't even follow orders?"
"I don't think that could have been an option for me," you say slowly, still feeling stung. "I'm self-aware enough of my own weaknesses, but am I really that bad?"
Yonatan pours himself another finger of whiskey, drinks, and considers. "Okay. Maybe not
that jialat," he concedes. "You can find your ass with both hands and you listen to your subordinates. You can leverage people with better tactical acumen. If you had to run everything yourself you'd look like fuck, but you know how to stay out of your people's way and let them make you look good. And sure, the higher you go, the less relevant your technical skill is. But I will continue to insist that you'd have been better off as staff instead of going for command track."
You take a deliberate bite of processed rice, sausage, beans and beef, and swallow. "Well, it's 12 years too late to change things now," you say, and you almost succeed in keeping that little touch of bitterness out of your voice.
Yonatan shakes his head sympathetically and tops off your mug again. "There's a saying in my hometown. Later regrets lead to no earnings." He shrugs at the raised eyebrow you give him. "It loses something in the translation." He sighs wistfully, pouring himself a generous amount of Nectar Doré. "Man. I wish I hadn't listened to my CO and gone officer. I shoulda just stayed enlisted, then at this point I'd be a Master Chief, or hell, I'd be a Warrant now. Maybe a Master Warrant, that'd be paling best. Maximum tai chi, all of the authority, none of the responsibility, and nobody fucks with a Master Warrant because the Master Warrant fucks you back."
"It's not too late to go to WOCS," you say innocently. Yonatan snorts and gives you the one-fingered salute, which you return, somehow managing to make the rude gesture look charming.
"I'm too old to start over as a 3rd Warrant. No thanks," he says. "So anyway. Since your dad's my bro and he's not here I gotta back him up. Off the record: when are you gonna get married?"
"I can't get married if I don't have any proposals."
"Bullshit," he retorts. "This is your Uncle Johnny talking to you now. You should be
drowning in proposals. You
have looked in a mirror recently, right? Are you blind? Look at yourself. You're charming, elegant, you're a beautiful young woman in the prime of her life. Only the blind or siaolongs would be able to resist you. Or is it because you like girls? There is absolutely nothing wrong with that, and if you need to produce an heir, that's what IVF and iron wombs are for."
"Uncle Johnny," you protest, your cheeks afire. "This is inappropriate conversation for me. I need an adult."
"You
are an adult. You're almost thirty. I
know I gave you the birds and bees speech, you've done your practicum already." He gives you a look. "Or did you only study your sex ed
theory, and didn't do your practi
cum?"
You bury your face in your hands; Uncle Johnny just tsks chidingly, waggles his eyebrows ridiculously, and pours you both more whiskey.
"I just want someone to propose to me because they've fallen in love with me, not because they're offering a political-economic alliance."
"You can't be too picky, you know. By all means don't sell yourself to short, but don't price yourself out of the market at the same time. Otherwise… well, you're liable to end up as a spinster. Or the only companionship you can find will be a kept boy relying on you to keep him, and I really don't think you want that, so perhaps you might want to reconsider your choices?"
"Uncle Johnny!" you exclaim indignantly. "Can't you respect my choices?"
"No, not really."
"You're not even married!"
"Have you looked at me? No looks, no riches. Hell,
even I don't want me, so I totally get why I'm unmarried. You have so much going for you: youth, charm, beauty, elegance, you're in the prime of your life. And you're ridiculously wealthy in your own right, plus you have your Navy career, so it's not as if your husband
needs to take care of you."
You bang your head on the table and make a frustrated growl; Uncle Johnny pats you on the shoulder comfortingly. "There, there. Worse come to worse, there's always Shiki, isn't he like your best friend or something?"
"If I marry him, Hoou's scion will immediately revolt," you grumble. "
Taihou's had her eye on him since forever and Kanda's been fleeing her grasp since forever. And no, I don't think of him that way."
"
Suuuuuuuurrreeeee," drawls Uncle Johnny, snickering at your expression. "Just do it, and kick off the war! And then you have the perfect excuse to keep your fleet." He smirks at you, and taps his temple with his fingers. "Can't disband a warfleet built to smackdown the rebelling Great Houses if you need it to smackdown a rebelling Great House."
You give him a flat look, as he grins and adds, "Remember, you're the heir now, it's your duty to provide the Royal Family with a spare, and I'm sure your mum would love to have a grandchild to take care of…"
Your forehead makes contact with his desk. Repeatedly.
- 女王之天命 –
You finally
make a tactical withdrawal from Uncle Johnny's office. You
can understand why he acts like this: he's lonely at the top, he's been a close friend of your dad since before you were born, he's always liked you, he can relax and let his guard down around you and engage in irreverent banter. But there's a limit to how much you can endure.
You reach that limit when he offers to act as your matchmaker, managing your dating app profiles and arranging your omiai sessions, and when he starts talking about looking into personnel records to find enterprising young men to be your fiance candidates...
Still. It's not
all idle drollery. You did get some work done, and you have a better understanding now of the Navy's strategic situation.
Life as Commander 13th Fleet and the paperwork you need to deal with doesn't end just because you're going to be reassigned and your fleet might be disbanded. Training continues: there's plenty of empty space and your fleet goes on maneuvers, operating as a formation, splitting into sub-task forces for force on force training, even tangling with Imperial Royal Guard ships from the Capital Defense Fleet that come out to play.
Daniel drops by on Tuesday with two pieces of news. Firstly, he agrees to become your Equerry and do for Princess Yui what he did for Vice Admiral Akasha, with a greater focus on political intelligence work. Secondly, the Imperial Royal Guard has sent you a liaison officer.
Major Yui Nakahara carries herself primly and properly, the very model of an Imperial Royal Guard officer. Daniel got you her file: she's young for her rank, which suggests either nepotism, connections, competence, or a mixture of all three (which reminds you of how a certain young Vice Admiral entered the Navy as a Lieutenant at the tender age of 17). There are no major red flags in her file. Her long brown hair falls to her waist, and her violet eyes are sharp, intent and focused. She gives off the impression of an icy beauty, like a frozen sculpture.
"Why do I need a liaison officer from the Guard?" you ask her pointedly. To her credit, she doesn't appear intimidated by you (or perhaps she just has a good poker face; like many IRG officers, she's nobility herself).
"Commanding General's orders, Your Highness," she says. "My role is to assist you in whatever endeavours you may undertake on Her Majesty's service. And, in the event that you do not agree to a personal detail, I'm your last line of defense."
You give Daniel a questioning look; his shoulder shrugs, ever so slightly. You present a raised eyebrow to Nakahara.
"And what assistance can you provide me in my current endeavour?"
"Within reason, Your Highness, anything from a commando team to a full Royal Aerospace-Ground Task Force. It depends on the severity of the matter and availability of forces on our end."
Well.
"Suppose I was looking into a matter, unofficially, for the Empress. Suppose that this matter would require the utmost discretion, for a fact finding mission."
"Then command would make arrangements for an intel team to augment your staff for this fact finding mission, and would pull in relevant data from various sources to be forwarded to Your Highness. Unofficially."
Well, that will be useful. Daniel nods to you, and you incline your head. "Very well. Major, my Adjutant will brief you on the matter. Please assist him with this project, and make the necessary arrangements with IRG command."
"Understood, Your Highness."
"Welcome to the team, Major Nakahara," you say, and make a mental note to be on your guard. You're not inclined to simply take her at her word: she's obviously been placed with you to be the IRG's eyes and ears in your household, though to what greater purpose, you can't say. Still, she's an asset that you can use, so you'll use her...
- 女王之天命 –
Come Friday, Daniel and Nakahara give you an unexpected piece of news. They hand you a thick folder, and brief you as you peruse the contents. The combination of Daniel's skills (he
was an Intelligence officer by trade) and the IRG's intel team have found credible intel that there
is hanky panky going on in the Egon system, warranting a closer, more personal look. You can feel a migraine coming on at the thought that
fucking 9chan was actually right. (Well, partially right. But still.)
Well, you're a fox of your word. Looks like you're going to Egon afterall. It'll be an eight day round trip, and you plan to spend two days at Egon, which isn't much time at all. You'll be cutting it close: the next meeting of the Regency Council is on Monday, the 28th of May, ten days from now. Still, worse come to worse, you
could leave Daniel behind to continue fact finding while you rush back to the Imperial Capital.
You're still in command of 13th Fleet, so you've chosen to use your own assets for this fact finding mission: you'd rather use ships and crews you know are loyal to you, whose measure you already have. You'll be taking a task force with you to the Egon System - the official story is that your task force is going on a training cruise. You've been debating with yourself how large you want your task force to be: the smaller your task force, the easier it is to slip past people's notice, but a larger task force would have a greater intimidation factor at the cost of being less subtle. Still, you've made your bed, and now it's time to sleep in it. You put the finishing touches on your memo and send it off, and collect your kitbag.
Let's be about it.
What is the size of the Task Force you're taking to Egon? (IRG intel team is included in all options)
[ ] Small Task Force
[ ] Medium Task Force
[ ] Heavy Task Force
- 女王之天命 –
