Folklore snippet 3

Sitrep:

I've been plugging away on MV4 for a while now, past the half way point when I got to the story Wayne challenged me to write. He and several other people have been on me about writing Shiver Me Timbers as well as more Tau sector stories.
  I had 1 sentence. That was it. 1 seed of a sentence of a vague idea that grew to 10 pages, then to 22. It has now overtaken me. I've pretty much forgotten everything else in the heat of the moment to get the story out.
  Yesterday was 1 such day. I was supposed to post this snippet. Instead I wrote 38 pages and reformatted the Tau story, now renamed Kai's Story into a novella in it's own right. I broke it down into chapters, and finished the first 7 chapters. Yesterday I had to force myself to stop at 61 pages in order to cook dinner and rest. (I was button punchy) I even wrote out the idea for the cover art.
  I was shooting for 100 pages. I figured I'd be lucky if I got that far. But 30 pages were raw blocking.
This morning I just added 10 more pages in roughly an hour. Yipe? Most of it blocking too. 1 page of blocking usually translates into 1-3 pages of finished text.
  So, yeah, I've got a bit more than I bargained for.

On to the snippet!

This one is from Boarding School

Kevin Ramichov looked at the window briefly. There was a slight breeze outside. He didn't care for it; he'd grown up indoors most of his life. But he did sometimes enjoy going outside. He ran a hand through his short raven colored bangs and thought about the platoon marching outside.

Not in blustering weather like now though, he thought, noting the fat drops of rain. He'd much rather see it snow than rain, but they were a month or so out from that sort of storm. Most likely the exercise would be called off. The staff wanted their charges to learn to deal with adversity, but they knew not to push it and let one of their charges get sick or injured.

As a plebe at the Imperial Star Academy, he'd normally be expected to shovel the walk, stand fire watch, and do other menial tasks. But he had something the others lacked, a very high rank. Rank hath it's privileges, he thought with a brief self-satisfying smirk.

Technically, no one should know who he was. As the youngest prince, he should be enrolled under a false name and identity. But his mother had insisted that he have additional around the clock security protection. That had negated any attempt at keeping a low profile.

Which was fine with him. Nathan behind him helped shield him from some of the hazing and excessive demands from the seniors at the academy. Just about everyone was quaking in their boots at the sight of him and for good reason. A single word from him could end their careers or their family's careers.

It gave him a heady feeling to have such power at such a young age. It was his birthright. He intended to enjoy it to the fullest.

His eyes had recently turned to girls as puberty had begun to set in. The school was coed. He had yet to get into the pants of one of the girls at the school despite the rules, but it was only a matter of time. Hell, if he wanted he could probably bed one of the female instructors if he wanted to do so.

Of course his fiancé was at the school as well, which complicated things. Agnes Rico was a sniveling woman; he already detested her, mainly because she sought out his company so often. That usually drove the other girls away. She was also in her awkward period. She was a bit portly, had braces and wore glasses. She tended to snort and giggle a lot. She also had absolutely no sense of style. Sure, they all had to wear a uniform but at least some of the other girls had their uniforms tailored to accent their bodies. And they did nice things with their hair and makeup. Agnes didn't.

He was hoping that his mother would break off the engagement. He didn't want to be saddled with the girl because it was a political necessity. His mother had explained it to him several times, but he still didn't like it.

He'd recently heard that a lot of the navy families were on the decline. Each had taken hits due to the hated Federation. The Rico and Cartwrights had been hit. They hadn't yet been forced out of power in the Admiralty, but some were already whispering it was only a matter of time. One more major loss and either or both family would fall from grace.

Of course, some said the same about his family when he wasn't around to hear or so they thought.

He grimaced in annoyance. It seemed his family was tied to their success. Which meant Agnes would cling even further to him.

There were of course ways to rid himself of her. His mother had made it clear he had to stick to protocol. He couldn't drive her away nor could he find a way for her to suffer a “mischief.” His mother, like some of the other women in his life, could be so trying at times.

He fought a suffering sigh.

One other benefit of being a prince was that he got his own room. Normally the plebes had to share a room with a group of others. He knew some hated it. He enjoyed his room. Nor had he been inspected by the seniors. Only once had he been inspected by an instructor. That instructor had been counseled to never write him up again.

He had five official siblings all told, although two were deceased. Only little Khalia, his ten-year-old sister was a full-blooded sibling.  His eldest siblings had been by another mother. The same for the middle two siblings.

Catherine was the ranking sibling. Miles was missing and presumed dead like Adam. Joseph was a Marine and third in line for the throne. That left him and Khalia.

He knew that each of them had a mark on their back, a target from their other siblings as well as from the various families involved. Each wanted the throne and therefore wanted to prevent others from getting to it first.

He had his doubts about little Khalia. She was too sweet and innocent. He doubted her time in her current boarding school would toughen her up. She'd already made it clear she wasn't interested in a military career. Their mother had agreed.

His easy, almost pleased thoughts began to turn dark as he realized that he was still helpless. Sure he had some power over others and himself, but it was sharply limited. Catherine or Joseph could scheme against him with impunity. They could attack him, and he couldn't retaliate. The same for the ruling families not linked to his mother's.

The only thing keeping them in line was his grandmother. The red queen they called her. No one stepped out of line with her watching their every move. And she was always watching. Her spies were everywhere.

He'd heard about the savage losses against the Federation. They were losing the war no matter what the media was reporting. He could feel the unease in the air sometimes. He was pretty sure his father or grandmother was behind the replacement of the PM too. Up until the Duke and Duchess had died, the dynastic wars had been in something of a truce, or so he'd been told. Now, no one was sure about anything.

There were a lot of calls to pull together in the face of a common enemy. But there were some who were starting to look at the war as an opportunity. The loud ones he knew II had already identified. They might make an example of one or more. He wasn't certain about it though. He'd come to realize there was a difference between someone talking a big game and actually pulling something off.

It was the quiet ones that you had to watch out for. His mind turned to his little sister again.

Unlikely Kevin, he reminded himself.

No, he had three attack vectors to worry about. One, an attack from within, either from another student, an instructor, or his own security detachment. It could come in the form of a direct attack or poison. He'd already had a couple suspicions about accidents he'd endured in the past two years. Nothing serious enough to garner the interest of II, but enough to keep him on guard.

The second vector was external, the thing he had no control over nor much warning if it did come. That could be in the form of a direct assault or a bomb. That was a concern and one reason he preferred to be behind bullet-proof glass and armored walls.

In order to attack him, they'd have to get through the academy's formidable defenses. A concentrated attack had never happened, but it was still possible. More likely someone would try to attack him while he was en route to or from the academy.

The third attack vector was both external and internal but more insidious. It could be an attack on his reputation and slights against him in order to draw him into saying something he shouldn't. He'd learned twice to his chagrin to keep a lid on his temper and mouth. Such attacks could undermine his future, cutting away at his foundation and making it harder for him to grasp the reins of power if he ever had the chance to access them. He hated the backbiting gossip.

It could also mean a way for others to extort something out of him. He'd learned about political exchanges and trading favors when he'd been informed he'd been betrothed to Agnes after all.

He didn't just have to worry about enemies and family but also mock attacks too. His grandmother was notorious for sending someone to test his defenses. Or even letting someone else get close enough to wake him up.

And people think my father is paranoid, he thought with a mental shake of his head.

Paranoid he might be but paranoids had real enemies. If they were smart and paid attention, they had a better chance of living longer.

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