Old Friends, New Allies. [Rune]

[Eitan Angevin]

"I swear upon the State," he said solemnly, his hand held up, "that Stefan Dornkirk, the ranking member of the civilian government, is an honorable man and worth following. Full disclosure: he is also my brother-in-law. He also spent time in the ZADC before his engineering acumen was noted to outstrip what he could offer as an airman. His daughter... my niece... was the first child born to Zaichaer after the cataclysm. He chose to stay and work on reclaiming, rebuilding, rather than fucking off to the Imperium or somewhere to raise his family with whatever fortune his father and mother left there. He never wanted to be a minister at all, but he is doing his duty by the people, his people. He will due his duty by you and yours. I swear it on the State and on our friendship. If you ever believed me at my word, believe this."

After a moment, he let his hand fall to his side before it became too awkward. He cracked a smile, then he pulled Reichart in for a rough hug.

"Mists, I'm glad to hear you say that, though. The others... they'll take diplomacy or politicking... threats or bribes... you, I knew I had to persuade we had the right of it. Thank you, Benno. I will sweat and bleed and toil for you and yours, and you won't have to hold the line without support anymore."

Eitan supposed Reichart couldn't stay on the Sky Islands indefinitely. He would have to hold the line here, ensure the logging industry and far-flung eastern hamlets were safe. That mistspawn had escaped the city and come this far was sobering, and he would address the feelings of guilt that they hadn't been contained. But at least Reichart would not be losing a war of attrition out here. Things could be better for all of them.

"Do you... want to check out the supplies we've brought? List the things you need we mightn't have anticipated?" A part of him just wanted to kiss the man and tell him everything was going to be all right, but he didn't know how that would play out.

[Rune]

Reichart watched Eitan, unblinking, in total seriousness while he spoke, senses on high alert for something that might alert him to, not a lie, but something, anything, being off about any of the speech. His senses, on hyper alert almost constantly for the last year, and honed even before then to keep himself and those under his command alive and well whirred and searched but found nothing amiss. The acceptance of what he was being told, and what he was being offered, hit him quite like a fist to the gut and he stood still a moment too long before realizing he should be reacting. Grinning at himself for a fool he held out his hand to shake symbolically accepting their new alliance. When he found himself thrust into a tight hug instead he didn't hesitate to return it. The scent of Eitan hit him like a second blow. There were differences, of course there were, the soap was different, and a hundred other small things, but under that, down in the crook of his neck was the essential cocktail that was Eitan and it brought back years of memories all at once.

"Yes." He said it firmly, as a commander, but then, again, as a friend, "Yes."

When they pulled back enough to see each other he didn't wholly release Eitan, kept his hands on the other man's upper arms as they continued to speak.

"We'll get them. Our people love nothing more than a command structure, and it sounds like you have the strongest claim to one. Even if you didn't to be frank, that would leave us with a dozen or more officers of equal rank and that would mean years of either stalemate or civil war. We can't afford either."

Without a hint of irony he repeated back,

"Thank you, Eitan. I will sweat and bleed and toil for you and yours, and you won't have to hold the line without support anymore." Their gaze held throughout and if his eyes dipped briefly to the pretty mouth below, it was very briefly.

"I'll get a report on the supplies quite soon, I imagine. I have lists of all the things we're in need of, which can be copied out. The most dire are food and ammunition. Some of my men are down to their bayonets."

Finally releasing his hold he moved over to the back corner of the room where it could now be seen that there was a cot set up, a small desk covered in books and more papers, and a couple of camp chairs.

"Come, sit with me. I have more things to tell you."

When they were settled Benedikt leaned forward slightly, his voice dipping down quietly.

"I was trained first in the ZDC, as you know, and then, with you, I did officer training for the ZADC. What you may not know is that I was simultaneously being trained to gather information. About our own people. I suspect, now, that the coup that took place was being planned for quite a long time and while I haven't decided how I feel about whatever part I may have played in it, I remain loyal to the State, whoever governs it." Licking his lips he bit the lower one, just once, a tick from his youth that he had conquered in public, though, it appeared, not wholly in private.

"I know things, about the other generals, things that would have ensured, or at least encouraged, their loyalty to the new government should they have chosen to fight the transfer of power. Some of the information was used, rendering it useless, some of it was used but could be used again, and some of it was not used. I have no desire to be the head that bears the burden of high office, which is probably one of the reasons I was one of those chosen to keep tabs on the brass. But if I did want it, there is a good chance I could manage it. I've been waiting to see how things shook out, or at least which way they were leaning."

[Eitan Angevin]

The embrace clinched the deal; it was a sign that they were on the same side—Zaichaer's—and that time and distance hadn't atrophied their friendship beyond repair. While Benedikt's hands were an his arms, his were on the older man's flanks.

"I'll be glad to have as many officers back as possible," he said in all seriousness. "We are having to give promotions due to a lack of command structure. I'll likely be admiral soon more because I am wearing too many hats to care whether I have a ship to my name and the other captains don't want more responsibility than their ship and crew." He sighed. "And don't even get me started on the Order. We will support you, but that doesn't mean you won't have to wear two hats as well. Nobody will take the skies from you, but we are low in ZDC troops so we can't spare you there either. And I thank you, and I will be sweating and bleeding and toiling for you and yours, as well. For ours."

Relieved that what he had hoped for had come to pass without too much time or effort, he was only too happy to perch on a camp chair to discuss things further.

One brow rose like a raven's wing at the unexpected direction Benedikt's conversation took. They had shared one class on military intelligence, but his friend hadn't spoke of any others—of course, he wouldn't. Just as Eitan hadn't spoken much on Order business.

"Well, then, I don't mind you wearing an internal affairs hat as well..." His smile was wry. "I hope you will keep me honest, and share whatever you think best. I would like to bring as many people in as possible as I did with you... a plea to your patriotism, but if people continue to hold out so they can retain more power for themselves at the expense of the State and Zaichaeri citizens, then I wouldn't mind having the right lever to move those mountains."

Eitan wasn't paying too close attention to "loyalty" when it came to those within the power structure of the Sky Islands. There just wasn't the time and resources and, so far, nobody had given him reason to doubt them. As things got settled, secured, and safer, that might change. When the white-knuckled grip on things wasn't necessary for mere survival, people would relax and they might stray. He hoped not, but it was human nature.

[Rune]

"I'm sure you'll want to talk things over with the Minister and whatever others are running the show when you get back, but, my advice would be a balanced approach. I can tell you the way to talk to each of the generals that will get them listening without offending them, but what you need to tell them is basically this; no one wants to be the last one in the door.

"No one gets to the ranks you're looking to recruit without playing the game, and all of them will know that if they are the last to jump when it is the only choice left it will look bad. More than look, they will be functionally shut out of any important decisions from then on. They might be left with their rank but as far as having a say in the orders that come down for them to obey, they won't be heard. They all know it and I'd bet what supplies I have left that, whatever else is influencing each individual, as a collective, they just don't want to choose too early and end up on the wrong side."

A muffled knocking sound came from outside, someone tapping one of the tent poles to announce their entrance. A young soldier, perhaps seventeen ducked inside with a cloth-covered tray, as soon as Reichart saw it he waved it away.

"I'm not hungry." His tone was dismissive but the action and words had a well-practiced, almost ritual feel to them. When the soldier left and he turned back to Eitan, Benedikt saw the skepticism on his face and gave him the truth.

"The two privates that are on call for me split what I don't eat. Mists, it'll be nice to stop worrying about that. But, come, I don't know how long you're planning on staying but I'd like to show you the ships. You can take all but the small scouts with you when you go if you like. Proper escort for the admiral."

The last was a teasing, as comfortable as if they'd never parted. Standing he led Eitan from the command tent and walked him through a flurry of salutes, many of the men leaping to their feet and standing until Reichart had passed. He nodded to each man who did so, but leaning in to speak quietly to Eitan alone he said,

"I couldn't get them to stop doing that. I appreciate respecting the chain but disrupting their work to do it every time I walk by feels like a waste." That he had lowered his voice so no one else could hear it said plenty as to his understanding of moral and not pushing men where it would do more harm than good. It was a good fifteen minutes of walking, during which Reichart began discussing how to approach individual generals and giving his suggestions as to which would be best to see first.

When they arrived it was easy to see why they'd had to go so far, the forest was denser, the trees older, taller, and stubbornly holding onto their needles even starting on the third season of straight Frost. Three large airships were hidden therein, along with a handful of medium-sized ones and two small scouts. A glance around showed there were places set up for more of the scouts, perhaps half a dozen altogether.

In the center was the largest, and though neither of them had ever served on the ship, there was no mistaking her. It was the Searing Victory.

[Eitan Angevin]

"I never anticipated being the diplomatic corps on top of everything," he agreed ruefully, "but I suppose if i was only treating with men like you..." His dark eyes were admiring. Benedikt Reichart had been a surprise when they had met. Nary a word about his mixed heritage, though signs of that were surgically removed thanks to Dr Stechpalme and Admiral Angevin. Affable despite his ambitions. Kind as well as a killer when the State required it of him. In many ways, Eitan had looked up to him and still did. Having his approval would be a boon when he was worried his decisive actions were mistakes. He supposed no good leader was without remorse, regret, or mistake; he just had to find the right balance between taking action and taking counsel.

"Your input will be invaluable. I thought we were properly fucked when Vonnegut all but ignored me. Thank Progress Delia's a social butterfly of the first order when she wants to be. Brought a bit of gentility into the river fort. I just hope she finds a way to bring the commander in without offending..." But if Delia secured Vonnegut even half as easily as Eitan had inspired his old friend to join the cause, and if the commanders and generals heard how they were charming the Guild of Coin, and their greatest threat—the Imperium—then they might actually have the momentum to scare the rest into joining quickly.

Then Overmann would have to come back with his hat in his hands or stay in Kathiid indefinitely. Of course, as High Sentinel, Eitan would pull his Ordermen from Overmann's ranks, and make the chapterhouse in Kathiid less willing to cooperate with him. As admiral, he might sway some of Overmann's captains to return to the fleet.

Everything Reichart did reminded him why it was imperative to pull him into the new Zaichaer: he was a capable leader, but he cared about his men. Soon enough, they were walking, and it was clear his soldiers loved him, respected him, and the fact that he was uncomfortable with it when it bordered on adulation was a good thing. Eitan couldn't help but enjoy the admiration, at least when there was time to. Most of the time, there was not. But his ambitions were being put to the test. He was advancing quickly due to circumstances as well as hard work, but the more he had, the more he wanted. It would be good to have Reichart keeping him honest.

"We don't want to leave you underpowered, though. The eastern border isn't likely to see too much action, so surely there will be some reshuffling when... Oh..."

Eitan hadn't expected to see that ship again, but there it was: Brenner's ship.

The Searing Victory—it gave him hope.

[Rune]

Pointing the the three larger ships Reichart explained,

"They were blown badly off course by the mist storm. There were more but they weren't salvageable. The ill wind was blowing this direction, at least some of it was. I saved what I could of the ones that were destroyed, and some of their crews lived though, not enough to get even these three off the ground. I hope you, or someone, has trained airmen to spare. Like I said, you can take all three, if you can crew them. My sailors are kept busy full-time scouting and making the rounds of the logging camps and villages every few days."

Rubbing a hand over the back of his neck his eyes got far away again as he obviously was thinking about logistical issues.

"We've got all of them well fortified, had plenty of material for it," A quick gesture to the forest showed what he meant. "but sometimes bandits or groups of spawn will pile up around the walls and we'll have to clear them out so work can continue."

As they spoke he led them to the Flag Ship, which was guarded and seemed to be being used as a barracks, along with all the other grounded ships.
"My officers insisted on leaving the captain's cabin for me, though, as I'm sure you noticed, I end up sleeping in the command tent most of the time."

Despite being used as a place to house men the ship was being kept tidy and Eitan would be able to see where repairs had been made with what materials were available. When they reached the largest cabin and entered it was large and stately, richer than anything Reichart had ever been accustomed to, though perhaps not more so than Eitan had.

Moving around the solid wooden desk Benedikt sorted through several papers and some books before coming up with a large leather-bound one and holding it out.

"My reports. For whenever someone came to read them, which is you now." A smile flashed that said that Eitan's arrival was as unexpected as it was welcomed. I'm sure someone will read all of it later but the gist of it is, you can take the ships and around five thousand men. I can patrol the border and protect the people with what remains and, in all honesty, it'll be a relief not to have to try and feed them anymore. I'd rather not set up any sort of 'trade deal'." He made quotations with his hands, "It would look like I wasn't recognizing your faction as the legitimate government. If times were normal I'd ensure the delivery of the supplies we create here and you'd send what supplies my men need to us. I'll send reports, you send orders. I want to be back in the structure as quickly as can be managed, I don't want any of my officers questioning anything until they're already in the swing of things."

[Eitan Angevin]

Eitan nodded, recovering himself quickly as Benedikt continued with his report. He grimaced.

"Banditry is to be expected," he said, "sadly. The crucible of emergency either brings out the best or the worst in men. But the mutant attacks are on me. We have been so focused on the city itself, we haven't paid enough attention to mutant emigration. Our exterior safe spaces haven't dealt with them to any great degree. Your wards will be tasked against them before I return to Command."

That was the Sky Islands now - Command.

A part of him wanted to find the Brenner's old quarters, but he knew the air wouldn't smell like his old friend. Instead, he nodded, approving Benedikt's quarters. If he was doing the work, he deserved the perk. Something about the way Eitan treated the folder of reports denoted the respect with which he accepted them. They would be here long enough for him to go through them while also doing everything he promised for Benedikt and his people.

He was already considering how best to allocate airmen and airships. If at least one of these could be manned and added to Reichart's rotations, then the soldiers on the eastern border wouldn't be overworked. He wanted their commitment to the Dornkirk regime to make their lives easier. The Searing Victory really ought not to be grounded both because it was so powerful and because it was a powerful symbol; it might remain largely a barracks while moored to the Windworks, or hover protectively over Fort Cathevelle, which would house the bulk of the five thousand troops Reichart would transfer over.

Eitan told himself he didn't want the Searing Victory to be his ship, but he knew that would never be entirely true.

"No, of course not. You are now a part of Zaichaer again. A cog in the machine." He smiled. "You will be responsible for lumber supplies being safe, as well as your patrols. We will provide rations, munitions, and other logistical needs." He grasped Benedikt's shoulder. "I'll take care of you, Benno."

[Rune]

From behind the desk, as Eitan spoke, Reichart looked his old friend over. He had done so several times since Angevin had walked into his command tent. The first had been confusion, disbelief, the second had been appraisal to determine if his arrival heralded good fortune or ill, the third had been sizing up his offer. This fourth examination was something else. They were in private now, and, as with many officers, what connection they kept in public was not always he same as the one they held in private and whether the change was one of affection or dislike, good officers never let it effect their public faces.

Ben hoped, and believed that he was a good officer, in this regard as much as any other. Even with the untypical amount of touch they had indulged in (a forgivable amount, considering the circumstances, and no more than he'd seen others do upon meeting one they'd thought lost), he hadn't let himself feel anything outside what belonged in the public realm. So, his eyes wandered, casually but thoroughly. Eitan was married, and older, and however much affection remained, significant and mutual, sometimes men outgrew the games they had played as children. It wasn't something he would push, particularly with so little information, but he did say,

"I hope your wife is well."

It was a true hope, and also a question. So many people had died, there was no telling what holes now existed in each person's life. If she lived he would see how Eitan felt about her in his response, and the same if she had died. It wasn't a trick but it was done with intention, and maybe he would feel bad about it later.

Stepping out from behind the desk so there was nothing between them he stood close and did no shrug off the hand when it reached out to him again. Eitan had initiated all the touch so far, and he wanted to show that it was something he appreciated but it would be some time, he suspected, before the rigidity he had fostered in himself to survive thawed enough that he would be easy in his manner again.

"I'd like to come see your flying islands once everything is arranged and my men are set up so I won't feel like a deserter for leaving for a little while. Meet your Minister, assess the situation better. Offer what I can in return."

The last sentence was a direct response to Eitan's, but he made another, laying his hand on the shoulder opposite that of his own that was being held,

"We'll take care of each other."

[Eitan Angevin]

"Luca is well, thanks," he said with an easy smile, switching between Eitan and Captain Angevin with ease; or, perhaps he had simply integrated the various parts he played, the roles he filled. "We missed you at the reception. You missed a couple of splendid parties."

"I would order you to join us for the somber memorial to the fallen and the celebration of our survival on the 34th, but I leave it up to you whether your men can spare you." Based on what Reichart had told him, he was already making rough estimates and plans. He would leave the Black Swan here, take the Searing Victory back to the Sky Islands. The troops here would see its departure as a job well done, and the survivors of Zaichaer would see their flagship return unscathed. It was good optics all around. Or would it be better to let Reichart fly the Searing Victory in for the holiday? No, he didn't want the attention; he would get plenty when he returned. Angevin needed that win to help secure his position as future admiral in the minds of the people. He was young and while he was now beloved, he needed to remain that way. Reichart could fly in with less fanfare on the Black Swan.

Angevin would fill the deck and the hold of the ZADC flagship with ground troops and barrack them at the Fort. Flights between the Islands and the eastern front would gradually build up supplies and troops where they needed to be. But he would double-check the numbers and get Reichart's input before he made any firm decisions. They would be here a few days in any case, doing what they could for Reichart et alia. In any case, his hand had been on Reichart's shoulder, but now Reichart's was on his. They formed a loop. He felt the old feelings welling up in him again. Perhaps his dark eyes glistened.

"Oh, Benno... I'm so glad you're still here." He leaned in, resting his forehead against the elder man's. After a moment, he looked up. And now they were too close for mere companionable intimacy. His lips parted, an invitation.

"You're with me again." His other hand came up to the man's waist. Eitan wasn't Zaichaer, but if he was, he would have felt that his whole eastern side was safe and warm now. As a soon-to-be admiral, he knew his eastern flank was secure. As a man in trying times, he had another someone he knew he could rely on. It was good.

[Rune]

From what he remembered the wedding had been small, confined to the deck of a ship. The after parties, he was assured, had each been grand in their own way. But he had been assigned outside the city at the time and hadn't felt it right to request leave for a wedding that did not include any relation of his. Additionally, while he had attended some upper class events after he'd achieved the rank of Captain, he hadn't grown up with the sort of social education that made him feel wholly comfortable in such company. Eitan was different; while he had been raised with the upper class he'd had his own set of struggles to endure within such illustrious company.

For the first time Benedikt wondered if, after all the dust settled and life was back to something like it had been if he would ever retire with a wife of his own to raise a family in the comfortable middle class or if the merchant life of his father was now forever lost to him for a variety of reasons. Rising through the ranks had been a dream of his, but rising outside of his station hadn't been. Mansions and servants had never been something he longed for, but, of course, the highest ranking members of the military were also the highest ranking members of society and now that he was something more than a Captain he might be obliged to step forward and lead in circles not requiring artillery and tactics.

His expression probably looked worried for a moment, but when Eitan leaned forward till their eyes met and their foreheads pressed it fell away into a smile that was hopeful and perhaps a little wistful.

"I'll come to the memorial, and celebration. To be honest, there isn't really that much that I'm needed for other than optics and moral. The damned spawn don't really change their tactics very often and there aren't many of them left regardless. Letting it be known that I am going to meet with the remaining government officials will do more good for my men than knowing I'm sitting on my arse in my tent."

Laughter was in his voice and sparkled through the blue of his eyes. His tongue moved out slowly over his lips, unconsciously wetting them in response to what he couldn't help but see as an invitation.

"I'm so glad it was you who came for me, Eitan." The double meaning was unmistakable, recalling days gone by even as it expressed hope for those yet to come.