Honor and Glory

There was more fear in Cyrus’s heart now than he had felt his entire last tour, now that he found himself standing outside Lieutenant-General Bixford’s temporary office. Thackery was standing next to him, slightly less upright and significantly more hung-over, more out of moral support than out of obligation. Ever since the capture of their prize Skyship, his squad had been riding high on the promise of good times in the future. Unfortunately for Cyrus, the unease in his gut had led to fear, and if the shouting from within was any indication, he had a right to be afraid.

The heavy accent of the spanish diplomat battered through the door, each word dripping with venom. “This is an act of war! Terrorism! I demand satisfaction! Your thugs murdered and hijacked a trading envoy bound for New Orleans! I demand the immediate return of the ship, all goods aboard her, and each and every member of the military responsible for this to be turned over to my government! There will be justice!”

The seconds burned into Cyrus’s stomach as the Lieutenant-General weighed his careful response. “My dear ambassador, we have the confessions of each and every crewman on that ship that they were under strict orders to fly a very well defined path, taking them along the border of the Kingdom of New England. One of them even alleged that there may have been a gust of wind that pushed them into our sovereign territory, which might be considered an invasion by someone with a less generous nature.”

After a brief pause, the ambassador unleashed a flurry of thick spanish, unintelligible to Cyrus but obviously full of displeasure and disparaging terms. “This will not stand, Bixford, and you know it. Your threats are baseless – there were no confessions, and our ship was not on your side of the border. I will see those soldiers answer for what they have done!”

Cyrus felt his stomach drop out from under him – he had been so sure about the border, but the bayou didn’t provide convenient landmarks. Sure, they had captured a Spanish Skyship, but was it worth the lives of his friends? For once, Thackery seemed much calmer than Cyrus, and this only served to feed Cyrus’s paranoia, to the point where he wanted to throttle his friend – surely that would drive home the seriousness of the situation.

Lieutenant-General Brixton coughed, politely, clearing his throat before delivering his response. “Unfortunately, Ambassador, it is no longer possible to discipline the officers and soldiers involved – they have served the fullness of their careers in the military and have now entered civilian life. Sorry old chap, but there’s nothing we can do in the matter.”

An animal cry burst forth from the room shortly followed by the Spanish ambassador, face hot with anger. Pausing in front of Cyrus, the man jabbed a hooked finger at his chest before letting out a horrid screech and storming off down the hallway. Almost immediately, Cyrus’s chest began to burn from the inside, sending wells of panic throughout his body. Thackery looked into his eyes before busting out in a grin, which only served to unnerve Cyrus further. With a great swing, Thackery slapped his meaty hand into Cyrus’s back, driving the stale air from his lungs and forcing him to sharply breathe in cool air.

“You’re a damn fool, Cy, I’ll tell you what. One stuffy dandy gets in your face and you forget how to breathe?” Thackery’s laugh was cut short as Lieutenant-General Brixton coughed again from inside his office, less polite than before now that the door was open.

The man’s barking voice caused Cyrus to shrink back against the wall once more. “Cyrus MacLeod, get in here. I need you to officially sign your discharge papers.”

• Rase Cidraen