Auxiliary's Revenge

Chapter 2 – Ceremonies-1

Chapter 2 – Ceremonies

Jerry Harper had never lived so luxuriously in his life. Upon returning to Homestead from Sherin Ch'taia, Ealdorman Philip Brewer had insisted that he move into the Brewer family mansion in Mill River County for reasons of safety. Brewer had cited the home invasion at Jerry's house, his value as a strategic asset due to his telekinesis, and the fact that security at the mansion was better than it could possibly be at Jerry's modest home.

Jerry eagerly accepted the offer.

Life in the mansion was very different. He was a little embarrassed about it, but only a little. Getting used to luxury proved easy. A few weeks after moving in, he felt right at home. He was actually starting to dread the day he'd have to leave.

There were servants to see to his needs. There were sheriff's deputies and even some Riflemen around to ensure his safety. The guest room wasn't especially large, but the walls and ceiling were paneled with fine wood, the bed's expensive mattress was like a warm cradle rocking him to sleep, the furniture was upholstered with leather as soft as velvet, and the whole place smelled like old money, like something out of a children's fable. The only thing that put a damper on the illusion was the medical stand next to the bed, the bag of fluid hanging from it, and the tube leading from the bag to the port in his arm.

Jerry gave the tube a resigned stare. He had healed a good bit—Sherin Ch'taia had left him battered and broken—but he wasn't back to his old self yet, assuming he ever would be. It seemed like half his life had been spent being treated for wounds or illnesses. His War Strain medicine, the breathing apparatus, surgery for his wounds, the various shots the doctors had given him... ever since the Claim War, there had always been something. The tube was just the latest reminder of his frailty.

He itched to be free of it, of medical devices altogether, to be able to walk around under his own power, and to generally put his past hurts behind him and get back into the war. Brave Agrarians were fighting and dying, both on other worlds and in the black, and his electrokinesis was a powerful weapon, powerful enough to save many lives. He hated thinking of how many he might have saved had he been there. While they were being killed, he lay in a fancy bed in a mansion, useless, tethered to a machine like an ox to a plow and with servants to take care of him.

“Try to relax,” Auxiliary-Captain Kajora said, apparently reading his mood. She wore one of her tan working uniforms and had also moved into the mansion at Brewer's request. There was a small scar on her forehead, a reminder of the Battle of Skybridge 2. As Jerry's semi-official doctor, she was in charge of his treatment.

“Relax,” Jerry said with a sniff. “Yeah.” His eyes kept drifting to her scar, though he tried to ignore it. Too many bad memories. And guilt, too. It was every Rifleman's duty to protect the Auxilians, and his efforts had fallen short. Kajora's scar was an accuser.

She fiddled with the machine's flow rate. “I know you don't like being stuck in bed, but your body needs time to heal. Resting is just as essential as the tube.”

“I'm sick of the tube, doc,” Jerry said, “and I'm getting stir-crazy. My legs are a little stiff and weak, but they work fine. There's no reason I can't walk around a little. I need to get up and walk around at some point, and soon, before I have some sort of breakdown.”

“Patience. You'll be going back to Stonefell County soon, and you can walk around tomorrow.”

Jerry sighed.

“The good doctor has yet to steer you wrong,” said Calael Avisherin from the overstuffed leather-upholstered chair in a dark corner of the room. His yellow eyes glowed slightly in the dim light. “You would be wise to heed her instructions.”

Jerry glanced over at him. “I am heeding her instructions. I just don't like it, so I'm complaining about it. I'm a soldier. Complaining is what we do.”

“So I've heard. Agrarians are a strange Breed.”

“Says a man with fangs and slitted pupils.”

Kajora chuckled.

“A fair point.” Calael took his stiletto from a hidden pocket and began picking at a fingernail.

The door opened, and General Vernon Gardener entered with a pair of men from the Homestead Volunteer Rifles on his heels. The Riflemen were armed with swords and plasma pistols, and they took up sentry positions on each side of the door. They gave Calael the sort of look a man might give a wolf on a leash of unknown length.

Calael ignored them.

“Don't try to get up, Harper,” Gardener said.

“Yes, sir.” Jerry saluted him.

Gardener returned the salute. He glanced at Kajora. “How is he, Captain?”

“He's healing slowly, sir,” Kajora said, “but he'll be on his feet tomorrow and back in Stonefell within the week. We'll begin rehabilitating him in earnest. Then his recovery should accelerate.”

“Good.” He turned to Calael and scowled. “I still don't like your presence here, Avisherin. You're a danger to Homestead, and you're a potentially destabilizing influence on the whole Commonwealth. Frankly, the Wheel of Fire simply isn't big enough for a man like you. But your pledge to Harper seems genuine, so if you must exist in this galaxy, then I guess I'm glad to have you around to protect him.”

Calael put his stiletto away and gave him a slight smile. “Faint praise, General Gardener, but I'll accept it.”

Gardener turned back to Jerry and planted his hands on his hips. “Harper, let me be blunt. You're a valuable asset, and we need you back in the fight. Which you already knew, of course. But what you don't know is how you'll be deployed. Or, rather, how you won't be deployed. Which is why I'm here.”

“Sir?” Jerry asked.

“I'm talking about the abject lunacy of one Norton Williams of Lightbridge.”

“The Turtle, sir?”

“That's right. The man's a genuine psychotic. He never should have sent you out on a mission with just a squad-sized unit to watch your back. Your ability is way too important to be risked in that way. And then ordering you to storm a castle? What was he thinking? Well, he wasn't thinking, obviously. But that's the Turtle for you. And now we're all dealing with the consequences. Once the dust from Sherin Ch'taia settled a little bit, Ealdorman Brewer made a call to Lightbridge. You would have been proud of him, Harper. He really stood up for you. He had some harsh words for Ealdorman Andy Graves about how the Turtle disposed of you. Graves tried a little halfhearted defense to save face, but I suspect he knew Brewer was right. Turtle Williams is a genius, but he's also nuttier than a squirrel turd, and he's always been just as much liability as asset. And now he's been demoted once again. This is the third time he's been knocked down a peg, if I recall correctly. He went from colonel all the way down to captain this time, if you can believe that.”

Jerry gaped. “Wow.”

“Exactly.” Gardener snorted. “A fifty-three-year-old captain. What a hoot. But that's what happens when you're crazy enough to pull incredible victories out of your hat but too crazy to be trusted with anything really important. He's in charge of a tank company now. It's where he's always belonged, in my opinion. His instincts are best suited for maneuver warfare and units of that size. But I'm no Lightbridger, so I don't get a say in the matter. In any event, the Turtle paid dearly for the way he treated you, and Brewer made that happen.”

“Well, sir,” Jerry said, “I'm flattered that the Ealdorman would stick up for me like that. If you could, sir, please pass my thanks along to him.”

“No need, Harper. He's on his way here as we speak. You can tell him yourself. But I wanted to see you first. I wanted to assure you that things will be different going forward. We intend to use you, but we intend to protect you, too. No more wild risks or suicidal operations. Homestead's got your back, Rifleman.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Gardener shook his head and grimaced. “I'm still angry about the whole matter. If the Turtle was here right now, I'd kick the man in the nuts just on general principle. I'm an Academy man, Harper, and at Homestead Military Academy, we're taught to take our responsibilities as future officers seriously. We're taught to value our men as men, not just as mere tools.”

Calael gave him a curious look. “Are men from other military schools taught differently, General?”

Gardener looked annoyed at the question, but he answered anyway. “The Turtle's a product of Raven View Institute, one of the smaller military academies on Lightbridge, and it shows. The Ravens have always been a weird bunch. Some of the best and worst officers ever minted have come from that place. And in the case of Turtle Williams, we apparently got 'best' and 'worst' in the same man.”

“Interesting.” Calael gave Jerry a smirk. “A strange Breed indeed.”

Jerry rolled his eyes.

“Be grateful you're a Homesteader, Harper,” Gardener said, “and not usually subject to Lightbridge's chain of command. Imagine having to take orders from the Turtle on a regular basis. Makes my skin crawl. We're Homesteaders, and thank the Breeder for that.”

“Yes, sir,” Jerry said.

“Before I send you out again, though, I want to get you up to speed on a few things. What I'm about to tell you has already been in the news, so it's not secret, but you've been busy recovering, and Kajora tells me she's prohibited the news in here in order to help you relax.”

“That's right,” Kajora said sternly. “And I'd like things to stay that way, General. Is this change really necessary?”

“I believe it is, Captain. I wouldn't normally go against your wishes on a medical matter, but Harper is going to deploy soon, and I have to get him ready.”

She frowned for a moment, but then she nodded.

Gardener gave Jerry a grave look. “Harper, I feel like I need to impress upon you the gravity of the situation, so here it goes. There's civil unrest breaking out all over the galaxy. Rosie's Respite, for example, is a bloodbath. There's a full-blown civil war going on there.”

Jerry gave Calael a quick glance. The rumor was that a Felid assassin had killed some Paragons there. If so, was that what sparked the violence? Was a certain notorious Harowaith responsible for starting a civil war? If so, who had ordered it?

Calael met his gaze unflinchingly, revealing nothing.

“There was a small uprising on Allport,” Gardener continued, “in the city of River Junction, but the authorities quickly suppressed it. On Plowman's Stop, anti-war rebels seized control of the planetary defense system and declared their planet's withdrawal from the Commonwealth. Some of the Navy men from that world have already deserted. There was even a mutiny attempt on a destroyer, but it was suppressed by the infantry. A few other Commonwealth planets have threatened to withdraw, and they're credible threats, Harper, not just posturing. There have been protests everywhere, including here on Homestead. Some of our own protesters have been waving the old national flags and talking about fracturing our world's political unity. Some of those troublemakers are right there in your own Stonefell County. Some want to resurrect the Nomaian Empire. Others want to bring back the Kingdom of Stonefell. Crazy stuff.”

Jerry wasn't sure what to think about that. On the one hand, the timing was terrible; the planet needed to be united for the war effort. On the other hand, the idea of bringing back the kingdom was an appealing one. Jerry's family roots were solidly planted in Stonefell County, and some of his ancestors had lived in the kingdom. He was sworn to Homestead, of course, and he'd do his duty, but his heart couldn't help but beat a little faster at the notion of Stonefell's independence.

“Fortunately,” Gardener continued, “our enemies are having similar issues. The Paragon Hierarchy is having civil wars of its own, including one right there on the capital world of Skytower. The Seagaters are having a standoff with the Draelians across the ocean. There have already been a few skirmishes, and both sides are mobilizing for a major battle. And there have been assassinations in both cities, and other regions of Skytower are getting involved, and the other worlds of the Hierarchy are starting to take sides, but not in any cut-and-dried way. You know how Paragon politics are. It's a total mess. Which is good for us, of course. We'll take advantage of their chaos. But we've still got our own problems, too.”