Chapter Fifty-Eight: A World War

Chapter Fifty-Eight: A World War

Serena woke to a comforting warmth divided into two parts: the first being the golden-haired Amelia nestled in her arms, snuggling against her chest; the second was the radiant glow of Amelia’s magic enveloping Serena, soothing her muscle soreness and dispelling any lingering sleepiness.

She’d experienced the sensation of going from asleep to fully awake in a split second before. Serena had been shelled awake on more than one occasion, and Anathor had done his fair share of acting as an alarm while she’d been asleep in her hammock. What she would never get used to was the magic-induced wakefulness that was on par with adrenaline.

“I presume you’re awake?” Serena intoned, bending down and ruffling Amelia’s hair.

Seven hells, Amelia smelt good. Her mother once told Serena that the man she’d marry would smell alluring. She didn’t quite understand it until recently. Of course, her mother would never have thought it would be another woman who would be so welcoming to her daughter's nose.

Wait... marriage?

“The clock chimed,” Amelia mumbled. “You were sleeping like a baby. Mmm... oh, wait!” Amelia shot up, her forehead furrowing. “I didn’t just ruin your training from Katalin’s session, did I?”

“No,” Serena said, stretching her limbs before pulling Amelia back into a cuddle. “Muscles only grow for about twenty hours after being stressed, so it’s fine.”

“Twenty hours? Are you sure? I thought it was longer...” Amelia said softly.

“Maybe for you weak humans,” Serena gave Amelia a sly smile, reaching down and flicking her nose. “Demons heal faster, grow faster, get ill less often...” Serena trailed off, lightly rubbing Amelia’s shoulder. “It’s only fair,” she continued. “We don’t have any gods of healing, so at least it’s somewhat balanced by our constitution.”

“Well, I can be your god of healing, can’t I?” Amelia said with pride, gesturing towards herself with a thumb and sticking her tongue out playfully.

“You...” Serena frowned before relaxing when she saw that Amelia was joking. Thank the Empress for that! If Amelia went around proclaiming herself a god, then the world would be thrown into total chaos.

Even more than it already was.

“Coffee?” Amelia asked, cheerfully changing the subject.

“Mmm,” Serena climbed out of bed and prepared them some morning coffee. They both cleaned up and dressed, only this time, Serena changed into her officer’s uniform. “Going to check in on the ship,” she explained when Amelia raised an eyebrow. “Would you mind giving it a quick clean?”

With a dash of Amelia’s cleaning magic, the uniform was free of dust and dirt. Amelia’s cleaning even removed the small smears of lubricant and grease that Serena picked up whenever she checked in on the Vengeance’s engineers. It was a great utility spell, and if she were ever away from Amelia for a long time she didn’t think she would get used to not having the feeling of total cleanliness that her magic invoked.

I’m becoming spoilt, Serena thought. Like Lani.

“You want to come?” she asked.

“Another time!” Amelia responded. “Lunaria gave me a book on the Formless. I plan to read through it and then chat with Anathor. Think he’ll mind?”

“No, but don’t get your hopes up,” Serena answered. She’d first been apprehensive regarding the grumbling Formless, but as the moons came and went and Anathor had been nothing but trustworthy, she’d found herself relying on him. The few times she’d been a little inquisitive regarding who or what he was, she hadn’t gotten very far. “Anathor’s old. I’m not sure how old he is, but his memory isn’t great. He once mentioned something about it being damaged. Although...” Serena’s mind suddenly connected some dots. If Amelia’s healing magic was strong enough to seep into the fourth deck, was there a possibility that she had somehow healed Anathor?

Amelia clearly followed the same line of thought, asking, “Do you think he’ll let me try and heal him?”

“You could ask, but don’t do it without my permission,” Serena warned. “I’m not confident that it wouldn’t have unintended consequences. Anathor isn’t a living being - not by our normal standards, anyway. He’s a... thing. He doesn’t have a physical brain to store and process memories like we do. No one knows how the Formless work.”

“Mmm!” Amelia nodded. “And what about you? Have you had any more of those weird dreams? You know, mysterious bearded captains talking about ominous temples?”

“No, but I have an odd feeling that they'll resume if you use any large-scale magic on the ship again.” Serena didn’t know if having more interactions with the ship would be a good thing or not. On one horn, it could provide some of the vital information that Chesterfield was obviously withholding, but on the other horn, she could handle only so much at once. Having weird dreams that may or may not be the memories of a splintered thing contained within the Vengeance’s hull was not exceptionally high on her list of priorities.

With a kiss goodbye, which quickly became a second and third kiss, Amelia snuck out. After waiting a few minutes, Serena left with a slightly flushed face. She left the main building, heading down the main path where early morning work crews were still installing steam pipes. She passed a yawning gate guard and entered the streets of the slowly waking Asamaywa.

A city was like a living being. In the mornings, it slowly became awake, with street cleaners brushing the paths and clearing snow, followed by the countless shop owners getting ready to open for business. Steam erupted from wall vents, indicating the early morning kitchen work of many of the city's restaurants. Younglings, with their horns small and still growing, ran through the streets throwing or posting the morning broadsheets. As the foot traffic increased, the food stalls began selling morning snacks to the workers heading towards their shifts.

Hopping onto a passing tram, Serena rode to the Asamaywa Imperial Docks. Stepping off, she handed her identification to the soldiers guarding the entranceway, and after receiving a quick salute, she went inside. Almost instantly, the noise of stream grinders and welders filled her ears, along with the demanding shouts of foremen and workers. Whether it was day or night, dockwork never ended. Maintenance was always needed, or some cargo needed to be moved.

Walking to the bay that held the Vengeance, easily identified by its distinctive black hull, Serena was about to step onto the gangway when she was hailed from behind. It was Thorne, her weapons officer. He ran up to her, offered a salute and said, “Captain! Morning. Was about to send an aethergram to the Academy.”

“What news?”

“Someone from Intelligence has some orders from up above. He’s waiting back there,” Thorne indicated towards a door behind him. “Bought some fancy-looking equipment with him, as well as some engineers. Wouldn’t tell me what it’s about, but if I had to guess, we’re getting some upgrades.”

“Equipment? Be specific, Officer?”

“Aye, Captain. Looks like a new firing solution for our cannons. A mechanical calculator that links up with the range-finder.” He shook his head slightly, an expression of awe and excitement forming on his face. “I saw early prototypes of it when I was in training, but this looks far more sophisticated than anything I could have envisioned. Looks like the very latest stuff.”

It wasn’t often she saw excitement on the face of her weapons officer. The man had once told her he cared about one thing and one thing only: to accurately put down as much shellfire as possible on an enemy's location, whether in the sky or on the ground. Serena valued that kind of ruthless pragmatism the most and put significant effort into cultivating it amongst her officer staff. They fulfilled their roles with efficient professionalism, so if someone like Thorne dropped that facade, this new firing solution was the real deal.

“And this Intelligence Officer, did he give his name?”

“Introduced himself as Officer Adachi, Captain. Said you were expecting him at some point.”

Perfect.

“Take me to him,” she instructed Thorne. The man saluted and led Serena through the door he’d gestured at earlier into a small waiting room. There stood the familiar visage of Aiden Adachi in uniform and three middle-aged engineers in overalls. There was nothing special about the overalls themselves, but from the visible cuffs, boots, and necklines Serena could see all of these engineers were officers.

“I admit, I’m impressed,” Serena said, folding her arms. She might not like these changes being forced upon her by Intelligence, but she couldn’t deny the combat effectiveness they would gain from it.

“One of the greatest feats of demon engineering I’ve ever witnessed,” Lange said, stopping his operation of the firing table and standing back up. “Not even the Oshiro-class has these installed. They only entered production four months ago. These directors have been configured with years of real-world targeting data from over a hundred naval engagements. I’m surprised they’ve prioritised a light-cruiser such as the Vengeance,” the demon shrugged. “Hells, who am I to complain? I’m just happy to work with such a machine.”

“When can you start?” Serena asked.

“The installation? Today. If your Weapons Officer and Chief Engineer can give us a walkthrough of your pods, we’ll start drafting a work schedule. The Warrant Officers can show your gunnery crews to new lodgings in Asamino for training. Best they get started as soon as possible.”

Serena nodded, turning to Thorne. “Thorne, find Allston and show these men what they need. Send an aethergram to the barracks and get your gunnery crews here.” She turned towards the Sergeant Major. “I’m teaching a semester in the Asamaywa Officer Academy. If anything urgent comes up, you can find me there. Regardless, I expect I’ll come down and check up on things every few days. Dismissed.”

With her orders given, the men set about their tasks. Giving the machine one final look, Serena left the room to find Aiden standing awkwardly. When he saw her, he grinned sheepishly and nervously rubbed the back of his neck.

“Captain Halen, I don’t have long...”

“This won’t take long,” Serena said, trying to keep herself from snapping. She dragged Aiden into a nearby room. Once inside, she locked the door before turning on the man and giving him her best intimidating glare. To emphasise her displeasure, she deliberately walked slowly towards him.

“Aiden,” she said, making her voice sickly sweet. “Guess what I found out the other day?”

“What’s that?” Aiden replied, backing away until his back hit a cabinet.

“Amelia’s got a new assistant, did you know?” Not waiting for an answer, she continued, “An assistant that just so happens to be the same student you met when Amelia healed her broken arm. An assistant who claims that before we left Kenhoro, she was approached about an opportunity to become an assistant to a mysterious Speaker in Asamaywa. She said the Grandmaster put her name forward, but I have this terrible feeling that it might have been you.”

Serena raised an arm, visibly making Aiden cringe. She placed it above his shoulder, leaning into him. It felt good to be tall. “Surely I must be mistaken? Because that would mean that you lied to me when you said you were just in Kenhoro for a personality profile, wouldn’t it? It would mean you knew about that bastard Chesterfield’s plan to have Amelia and me come here, wouldn’t it? You wouldn’t know anything about that, wouldn’t you?”

“Now, Serena, look here,” Aiden began.

Serena raised her other fist, clenching it tightly. Before she could intimidate Aiden any more, he suddenly squealed out, “If you hurt me, I’ll tell Amelia!”

A long silence passed between them.

Eventually, Serena straightened up, stepping back to make space between them.

Another long silence passed.

“Seven hells, Aiden...” Serena mumbled.

“I...”

“That was...”

“I know, don’t tell her, please?”

“That was pathetic! Ha!” Serena snorted, chuckling at the now red-faced demon before her. “That might be the saddest thing I’ve ever seen you say. Look at you! An Officer running around tattling about their problems to Amelia.”

“Bah!” Aiden groaned. “Just don’t tell her, please! I panicked, okay?”

“Panicked? What did you think I was going to do to you!” Serena scoffed. In her eyes, she had every right to be angry at her so-called friend, but she wouldn’t cause him any actual harm.

Maybe a tiny bit?

“You, err,” Aiden shuffled on his feet awkwardly. “Had that look in your eye, Serena.”

“What look!?”

“You know... look, never mind!” Aiden put his hands up in a gesture of peace. “I’m not told everything! I don’t know exactly what was decided and when, but I do know this,” he curled one hand into a pointed finger, emphasising his point. “When Amelia healed you, and the Vengeance denied the Dragon access to her, someone very high up decided to prioritise bringing Amelia over to the demon side with no expense spared. Something about the ship protecting her set off alarm bells. They were going to imprison and interrogate her, and now, Amelia could probably ask for a Greatlord’s territory and they’ll give it to her if it would secure her loyalty! That’s how important she is to the people up top!

“And then... when our agents discovered that you two were, you know, a thing.” Aiden’s eyes darted to the side, and Serena felt an unavoidable blush form. “Whatever plans they had with her now encompassed you as well. At one point, I think they planned to persuade her to become a student at the Academy for the full two years, with you teaching, but then,” he raised another finger, “Then, she invoked Asclepius, and everything changed! And not in a good way!”

“How so?” Serena asked, feeling her forehead furrow.

“Well, it’s mostly rumours, but I heard that the Intelligence apparatus dedicated to infiltration and monitoring Christdom and its allies tripled overnight. These are not just passive measures but active ones as well. I’m hearing whispers of everything from sabotage campaigns to a pre-emptive strike!”

“Nonsense,” Serena said. “The Empress wouldn’t order another front. We’re currently winning in the Republican war. We have the numbers, the material, the ships. We overmatch them in everything.” The current approach Cascadia took in the conflict was a war of attrition. They had long destroyed the main combat force the Republican side possessed pre-war. Now, they mainly were chipping away at unmotivated conscripts. If the human nations wanted their military aid to be used ineffectively by the struggling Republican army, then that was a deal that worked for the demons! “They have no pathway to victory, and everyone knows it. Why would we spoil our advantage by stretching ourselves with another theatre?”

“Right, my thoughts exactly, but listen to this...” Aiden leaned in, lowering his voice. “I still have contacts from my time in logistics. You know what I’m hearing from those guys? Massive expansion of production lines. Everything from raw resource extraction to smelting. Extraction companies in the desert have been awarded huge contracts to find more red. Why else but the mass production of explosives? And it’s all kept quiet. No announcements. It's the same thing with shipbuilders; believe me, they aren’t laying down hulls for civilian ships. No one wants to admit it, but all the signs are there. We’re preparing for war at a scale never before seen by either demon or human hands!”

“A great conflict...” Serena trailed off, her thoughts wrapped in confusion.

“A conflict, judging by what I’ve been hearing, is expected to be waged against any and all enemies. Not just Christdom, but their allies and anyone else. And if Christdom and their allies go to war, the rest of the human nations would follow, either against us or each other. You’re aware of the military alliances on the human continent. It’s a powderkeg waiting to ignite.”

Serena was quiet for a long while before saying the phrase which refused to leave her mind unless it was spoken out loud.

“A World War...”