Firstborn Read Online Free PDF Page B

Dennison.”
    Dennison frowned. “I thought we had an understanding.”
    “We have too many fighters and too few officers. The time for study is over.”
    Dennison felt himself pale involuntarily. “We’ll be facing . . . him?”
    “Just a minor battle,” Kern said. “A preliminary skirmish, really. I doubt Varion will even bother directing his side of it. It will happen some distance from the bulk of his fleet.”
    Dennison knew Kern was wrong. Varion directed all of his battles personally.
    “This is a bad idea,” Dennison finally said, but Kern had already turned back to his review of the Kress incident.
    * * *
    “Yes, son. It’s true.” The emperor looked . . . weary.
    “It’s illegal to clone a member of a High Family,” Dennison said, frowning as he knelt in front of the wallscreen image.
    “I
am
the law, Dennison,” the emperor said. “Nothing I do can be illegal. In this case, the potential benefit of a cloning outweighed our reservations.”
    “And I was that benefit,” Dennison said bitterly.
    “Your tone threatens disrespect, young Crestmar.”
    “Crestmar?” Dennison snapped. “Clones have no legal house or family.”
    The High Emperor’s aged eyes flashed with anger at the outburst, and Dennison looked down guiltily. Eventually, the emperor’s voice continued, and Dennison was surprised at the softness he heard in it.
    “Ah, child,” the emperor said. “Do not think us monsters. The laws you speak of maintain order in High Family succession, but exceptions can be made. It was your father’s stipulation in agreeing to this plan. Your right of succession was ratified by a closed council of High Dukes soon after your birth. Even had your father not required this, we would have done it. We did not create a life intending only to throw it away.”
    Dennison finally looked back up. The weariness he had noted in the High Emperor’s face was evident again—during the last few years, the man had aged decades.
Worrying about Varion would do this to any man.
“Your majesty,” Dennison said carefully. “What if I had turned out as much a traitor as he?”
    “Then you would have gone to war against him,” the High Emperor said. “For Varion would never be willing to share rule, even with himself. We hoped maybe you would weaken each other enough for us to stand against you. That, however, was a contingency plan—our first and foremost goal was to see that you did
not
turn out as he. It . . . seems that we were
too
successful in that respect.”
    “Apparently,” Dennison mumbled.
    “If that is all, young Crestmar, then I must be about the Empire’s business—as must you. The time for your battle approaches quickly.”
    Dennison bowed his farewell, and the wallscreen winked off.
    * * *
    Dennison paused in the doorway, the command bridge extending before him. This would be his first time commanding a real crew since he had begun studying under Kern’s direction.
    The bridge of the
Perpetual
was compact, as one would expect from a ship of its class. Kern’s fleet had a dozen such minor command ships which traveled attached to the
Stormwind
. During a battle they were released and stationed across the battle space, allowing for a division of labor, as well as de-centralizing leadership.
    The bridge was manned by five younger officers. Dennison realized with chagrin that he didn’t know their names—he had been too engrossed in his studies to mingle with the rest of Kern’s command staff. Dennison walked down the ramp toward the battle hologram. The officers stood at attention. There was something odd about their postures. With a start, Dennison realized what it was. None of them showed even a hint of disrespect. Dennison had come to expect a certain level of repressed scorn from those under him. From these men, there was nothing. No hint that they expected him to fail, no signs that they were frustrated at being forced to serve with him. It was an odd feeling. A good feeling.
    These