Nerissa

  Nerissa quietly paced the bridge of her destroyer, The Gale. It was a good ship, rustic, sturdy. One of the older models, built before the Empire’s great constructs had ruled the skies. A reminder that the old was now the new.

  And this new order offered so many possibilities.

  If her mission was successful, she could expect a promotion, maybe even a post in the capital. Recognition. Respect.

  “Ma’am?”

  The gruff voice of her first officer made her flinch. She turned quickly, smoothing the front of her uniform as she faced him.

  “Yes, Vann?”

  The squat man frowned though to be fair, he always looked like he was frowning. “We’re nearly four hours south now,” he said. “You told me to inform you before the turn toward Humvalt.”

  “Oh. Yes. Right.” She cleared her throat. “You may proceed… however you see fit, Vann.”

  He didn’t reply immediately. Just stared for a beat too long, then gave a stiff nod and turned to issue the order.

  Nerissa winced.

  Idiot. She’d forgotten again. The crew already had enough reason to doubt her. She hadn’t fought in the war. She hadn’t quelled the early revolts. There were no scars on her hands, no medals on her chest, and too much hesitation in her voice.

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  Maybe she should leave the orders to Vann. At least until they reached Humvalt.

  Then she could take charge. Her orders were simple, she had received them a few days ago from her father. She was to head east and capture a war criminal hiding in Humvalt. It was under the protection of the church but the Admiralty didn’t think the Pontiffs would object. It was a tiny frontier town with little income.

  She frowned at the thought of the church. They had begun to strain against the terms of their partnership with the Dominion.

  Lead the marines ashore herself. Let The Gale, Harriet, and Gulong hold station above, watching.

  If the town didn’t cooperate, the three destroyers were more than enough to turn it to ash. The Admiralty wanted examples made there if opportunities arose.

  A head or two taken might do the job.

  Win back the crew.

  Prove something.

  To them.

  To herself.

  She saw movement and looked over. She couldn’t help but smile at the familiar man.

  “James,” she said warmly, suddenly looking around self consciously when he saluted her, “er I mean Captain of the marines.”

  “Still getting used to it myself Captain,” he said, the faintest hint of a smile on the corners of his mouth, “what do you make of the orders? My marines have been restless since we set off.”

  “Its going to be a mess,” she said, waving a hand out towards the horizon, “though thankfully there should’t be too much of a Church presence. Our information is outdated however, even the maps of the town are five years out of date.”

  “No Paladins?”

  “Shouldn’t be, most are around the Churches capital.”

  “Are you feeling good about it?” James inquired.

  Nerissa didn’t reply. She stared out over the horizon before simply sighing before answering.

  “Orders are orders.”

  “Permission to speak freely Ma’am,” James said quietly, when she nodded he continued, “I doubt you believe that.”

  Nerissa smiled, turning to regard the man. She felt herself relaxing as the familiar comforting presence overtook her self doubts. James was the farthest thing one would expect from a Captain of the Marines. He had soft features, calm brown eyes paired with curly brown hair. He would fit in among the ballrooms of the Dominion Nobles.

  She had only seen him in one once, her father threw a ball for his officers and their wives. Nerissa had been recently commissioned as a lieutenant, and her eyes quickly were drawn to the pretty face that seemed so disinterested in the pomp and circumstance around them.

  “Yeah,” Nerissa said quietly turning with a light blush away to look back out over the horizon, “but sometimes we do things we would rather not, to move up the ladder.”