The office of the Star is not a simple one, for all its luxuries. I imagine many a person bemoans their station and feels vaguely ridiculous while doing so; I find myself no exception in that regard. My life is comfortable, my every need seen to, my opinions respected and my wishes obeyed.
There is so deprivation, yes, but it does not bother as much as most imagine. The real price of my soul, and I expect of any sufficiently-strong soul, is that I am not adequate for it. My will is not sufficient to constrain it, my mind not capable of grasping its fullness despite long years of experience.
And in the choice to use it, my deficiency is laid bare to its utmost. I may indulge its power and unleash destruction, consoling myself that it is the scalpel rather than the sword that draws blood today - or I may withhold its use and wonder forevermore if whatever outco follows might have been bettered by my action.
I take great pains to act with deliberation and care, the habit of which seems to defray so of the concern surrounding my outsize power. It is all I can do, inadequate though it may be. The idea of my care relieving others concerns has always seed odd to , however; I perpetually imagine a child with a pistol reassuring onlookers that they are being quite careful indeed.
- Leire Gabarain, Annals of the Sixteenth Star, 685.
I dont like it, Antolin grumbled, running one finger along the line of his jaw. The first engagent was a probe, the rest have fallen back well before we arrived.
He may not have the strength to engage us, one of the other officers present said, walking around to peer at the map of Daressa from a different angle. The other command staff shifted in response; Michael watched from the side, feeling very much out of his elent.
This was the secondary front against the Ardans, Antolin countered. He had strength enough for an attempt, certainly. No, hes drawing it back on purpose, forcing us to extend our supply line between his forces in Rul and the Ardans. He knows we cant secure another beachhead easily.
There were mutters of agreent from the others present. Dangerous, another officer observed. He can collect his forces far back while we stretch our neck out, then bring the Rulian troops down anywhere along the road. We can smash whatever hes got waiting, and we can protect our supply line - but if he draws us out to the central highlands before he gives us a fight, we wont be able to do both.
The first officer who had spoken made a face. The third option, then, is to open a front with the Ardans. I doubt theyll offer much resistance through to Leik, with their forces tied up in Is, but well pay for it in naval engagents and give the Safid free run of the country to boot. Without the Ardans to hold their advance, Taskin can collect his entire force to face us.
He has to know he cant win, the second protested. The bulk of his force is unsouled, and what cadres of ensouled he has wont be enough to stand against our combined arms.
Antolin nodded his head slowly. Dont fight the war like you would, he said, arching an eyebrow at the second officer. Fight it like Taskin. He paused, then looked to Michael. What do you say? he asked. Will he stand and fight, or try to bleed us as he retreats?
Michael looked up, surprised to be addressed - then back down at the map, though it served only to buy him a mont to collect his words. After a few seconds of thought, he raised his head. He wont retreat, not really. Hell want to fight you, but hell want it to be - perfect.
Perfect, Antolin mused. Explain your thought.
He and Amira both helped us - earnestly. They wanted us to be better when we next t as enemies, so that we could properly test them. He straightened up and walked over to the map, looking at the narrow strip of Safid-controlled Daressan land that ran between Ardan territory and the entrenched positions in Pashaluk Rul.
He pointed to the corridor. What you said about removing the Ardans and letting the Safid regroup rings true. Hell want there to be a single, decisive confrontation, and hell want to play the leading role in it. All of your forces against all of his, both at their best.
What of testing himself against the Ardans? the first officer asked. I agree with your read on Taskin, from what Ive seen, but that sa profile would also make him loath to let us win the Ardan front for him.
Michael frowned. Amira said that there was little at that front that interested her aside from Friedrich - and Galen, his subordinate. If hes still recovering- He paused, then winced. You know, I may have fouled that up sowhat. In her eyes, I bested Friedrich in combat. She seed very disappointed that I didnt kill him, and said that we would be tied together until I finished the job. Theyll have no interest in facing Friedrich now that hes been- He gestured futilely. Spoiled.
Deflowered? another of the officers suggested, raising a round of quiet laughter. That has the right shine to it. He wants to force us into sweeping his path clear, so that he might move on to more interesting foes.
Antolin grunted. Unfortunately, I think he can do it, he said, drawing his finger along the Rulian border. Even if the Ardans dont object, he can harass our resupply with his Rulian forces. Well lose n and morale, and the advance will beco a stalemate. We need a closer port, and the only viable candidate is Leik. He looked dourly at the map, then up at Michael. How would the Ardans react to an attack?
Id guess they wouldnt be thrilled, Michael ventured, provoking another round of mirth. I may be Ardan, but I have little experience with our military aside from briefly being branded a deserter.
Let rephrase, Antolin said. The Committee of War in the Ardan Assembly would be the body tasked with responding to a ndiko incursion into Ardan-held territory on the continent. Such a move would likely empower the interventionist faction within the Committee to act freely, and the man that faction looks to for guidance is Karl Baumgart.
Michael pressed his lips together, feeling his heart quicken. Ah, he said. Youre asking how my father would react.
We would likely sweep down through the highlands from the north, Antolin said. According to Sobriquets sources, there are no significant Ardan forces in the Daressan interior; most of those in the east are supply battalions or reserves. When we take them out and seize Leik, Baumgart will be left with two options: to salvage what forces he can from Is before their supplies fail, or to deny them rescue and spend them in a last, desperate action.
There was a grim certainty in Antolins last few words, and Michael found himself nodding along. Its as you say. The n dont an anything to him, if he can find a way to turn their death into a useful tool at ho then he will.
I had guessed as much, Antolin sighed. Ergelkeria. I imagine hell be inclined to pursue naval engagents afterward, to notch a victory for the papers at ho.
Michael scratched his chin, rembering his father seething quietly over perceived slights - anger that vanished as soon as Karl left the grounds of their estate, to simr unseen. I dont think hed risk another loss, he said. If he could strike without consequence, he would, but he wouldnt act in anger. Hell wait until he sees an opportunity.
We can work with that, one of the command staff said. A show of naval force in the area, and we can base a few anti-ship wings near Leik when we fortify the city. The man frowned. Assuming theres adequate land for an airstrip.
There is, Sobriquet buzzed, materializing just behind him; the officer made an undignified noise and jumped aside. So of his fellows grinned, while Antolin rubbed his brow wearily.
Theres a farm or two close in to the city, northeast, with good roads into the port, she said. It should be usable for aircraft, with a little bit of artifex labor.
Thank you, Antolin said. You were listening in?
The glimring avatar drew itself upright. I am Sobriquet, she answered, leaning in ominously close. I hear everything you say.
Antolin sighed, unperturbed. Of course. Since youre gracing us with your presence, would you mind collecting details of Leiks current garrison and defenses? If theres a way to urge civilian populations away from military targets in advance of our incursion that would be ideal as well.
The avatar tilted its head for a mont, holding Antolin in an eyeless glare - then she nodded, extending her hand to conjure a miniature model of Leik in midair; the officers leaned in close, their eyes alight with interest. Michael looked at it for a mont but found the words gliding past his ears without registering. After a few monts he excused himself and began to walk slowly back towards his bunk.
The talk of his father had spurred a lancholy in him that he found hard to shake, mories of his childhood surfacing with unpleasant clarity. He heard the snarl of his fathers voice, felt the whisper-quiet sharpness of his soul pressing tight.
Lost in his head, he nearly ran Luc over as the other man was erging from his own bunk; Michael startled and stepped sideways against the corridor wall.
Sorry, Luc muttered, turning away. Didnt see you.
No, it was my fault, Michael insisted, stepping closer. Ive been - distracted, today.
Luc turned to face him, his eyes briefly flitting up to Michaels face before straying back down to the floor. He flared with a confusing jumble of emotion - anger, pain and betrayal raced through him, bright notes in a surging sea of fear.
Luc, Im sorry, Michael said. Ghars ashes, I didnt want that any more than you did. It was just - necessary. There was no other good path out.
He couldnt have hurt you, Luc said, his fists clenching. Ive seen you move. You could have waited, let the soldiers catch him.
Michael shook his head, his mind racing to distill the epheral realizations from that mont into words. They would have killed him too, he said. I cant let others-
They would have only shot him, or stabbed him, Luc protested, his eyes coming up to Michaels with a sullen intensity. We healed the others who tried to fight. We could have healed him, or at least tried. The way you did it - you made sure he was dead.
I- Michael frowned, his words jumbling before they reached his tongue. The explanation of his decision rang hollow in his mind, the words not doing justice to what he had seen. That Antolin would have continued to interfere, that the Safid had built themselves irrevocably around the pillar of conflict, that sparing him would have changed nothing. The concepts lood larger in his mind, tied to truths that resisted being dragged forth in plain language.
Eventually he sighed and shook his head. I judged it necessary, Michael said. Every alternative I could see in that mont would have been worse, would have led to greater death or pain later. He saw Lucs mutinous expression and spread his arms. If I saw any way to spare him-
You could have stayed on the airship, Luc muttered.
Michael blinked. Antolin asked to co down, he said.
You cant say no to Antolin? Luc rasped. Would he punish you for refusing?
No, Michael admitted, but I trusted that he had a reason for asking down, and he did.
Luc burst with bitter incredulity. He wants to make you fight! To use your soul, yes? He wants conflict, as does Leire, and theyre using you to get it.
Not all conflict is evil, Michael retorted. Sotis its necessary! You t Saleh, the sa as I did - you t Amira! Do you think theyre better than Leire and Antolin? Do you think it would be a kinder world with them in power?
The power is the problem, Luc said. The soul is the problem. Everyone who has it wants to use it. You say souls cant be evil, but what has yours led you to? He raised his fists, then cast them down in frustration, tears welling in his eyes.
It takes and takes, and becos so terribly strong that everyone rushes to your side screaming for you to use that power. Lucs anger crested, then faltered as he sagged against the bulkhead, wiping at his eyes. I dont - youre not evil. Antolin and Leire, theyre not evil. I believe they want good and work for it as best they can.
He straightened back up, his eyes hardening. But so did the doctor, yes? He thought he was doing good work. He wanted to make life better for everyone, like many people do - but he was given Sparks soul. It made a wide, easy path to the goal he wanted, and he took it.
I dont think his soul was the only factor, Michael said. He placed no value on human life.
Luc frowned, then sighed. I never t him before he gained his soul, he said. So I couldnt say. But he was friends with your Jeorg, yes? And with Leire? He was perhaps not a good person even then, but he was at least not such a monster that others couldnt bear to live by him. Luc tapped two fingers lightly against his chest. But he listened to his soul. Used it for years.
So did Jeorg, Michael said. And Leire. They never turned into the sa sort of monster that Spark beca.
Luc laughed, sharp and sad. I would wager that out of those three, it isnt the doctor who has killed the most, he said. Its not just the killing that is evil, though, its the - imposition, the command. The knowledge that you can reach out and reshape the world to fix it - but every ti you do, the world fights back all the more. It balances conflict with conflict. The only clear path is never to feed that violence, and work to better the world in smaller ways.
The change becos violence. Jeorgs voice echoed in Michaels head, wry and certain. He shook his head. Im sorry, Luc, he said. I think youre right. I think youre right in a lot of ways, but - what is the alternative to fighting Saleh? If he has his way, the War will sweep the world. If Leire has hers, we can bring power to the world that doesnt derive from souls, balance the scales. Neither path is pleasant, but one end seems much better to than the other.
Luc pressed his lips together, looking away. I know, he said. I dont have any answers, I just- His voice broke, and he slouched against the wall. His na was Raed. He had hurt his leg, and I could fix it, and I did. All the rest, though, I cant fix.
The na shivered into Michaels consciousness, hanging prominent in his thoughts. Raed, he said, his mouth dry. Did you have a chance to talk with him much?
Only a few words, Luc said quietly. But you get a sense of a person, with a few words.
Michael nodded, then leaned against the wall beside Luc. Would you tell ? he asked.
Luc looked up, eting Michaels eyes for a mont before nodding.
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