Black powder and lace
copyright 2011 Faeriemage
When the entire universe is stacked against you, all you can do is change the game.

---

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is not my usual fare, and in fact is quite a bit off the beaten path here at BC/TS, all things considered. I am one of those people who would love to write a historical fiction, but am entirely too anal to be able to take it up.

Enter Science Fiction, or a specific sub genre called 'After the Fall.' This is not in any way a post apocalyptic story. These types of stories are usually focused on what happens centuries after man loses technology, and usually are set on other worlds, ones on which man was not specifically meant to live.

Many of the greats of 'Military Sci-Fi' have written in this genre, something that I am not. I am a dabbler into military history myself.

This genre, however, allows me to get into something I'd like to do, without the need for exhaustive research, or being left with that disquieting feeling that I have missed something. I am one who takes the view that the people who were there, even the unnamed masses, have stories. This does not keep me from reading, and enjoying, historical fiction. It does, however, keep me from writing it.

I like to be able to know what all my characters have done, are doing, and will do. I like to be in control. With a completely fictional setting, this allows me that freedom to create.

In this case, I am using a science fiction back drop to create a twist on an era that is long past on our own world.

I am writing this story for me. Comments are always welcome, and will be appreciated, but I am aware that this sort of story will not be everyone's cup of tea, and it may be that I completely fail at it. It will be a learning experience either way.

If there is a huge uproar of distaste I can stop posting this, but that will of course depend on what all of you think of this humble offering.

---

The only light in the dark alley was produced by the dim glowing points of the matches as they hissed away in their clamps. As the men awaited their prey, they adjusted the length minutely every couple of minutes.

The veterans made sure that the damp of the fog wasn't affecting their powder.

The long bore muskets that they were using were heavy and almost six feet long. This created a problem for the men trying to use these weapons. Since the time between pulling the trigger and the ball being ejected from the end of the muzzle was measured in seconds, they needed to either be steadied by a second man, or rested on a fork, when you had time to set up.

The men had been standing there for almost an hour, and their forks were placed and at the ready.

Their officer felt a sneeze building in her nose.

This was something noteworthy in itself. Not the sneeze. That was normal for the officer, and something that her men though funny. She was the only person they knew who always sneezed when they fired their weapons.

No, what was amazing was the fact that she was a woman, and that her people had no clue.

"Sir, how much longer are we going to wait here in the cold for these smugglers?"

"Keep your voice down, Sergeant!" she said in the tenor tones that she affected whenever she was in uniform.

"But sir, I'm cold…"

"Sergeant Sikes, if you keep talking I'm going to kick you so hard that you'll forget how cold you are."

There was a round of chuckles at this. Not so much because the short officer would do it. No. They'd seen her carry out corporal punishment before.

More it was the fact that Sergeant Sikes was acting for their benefit, and the officer, and her men, knew it. Sikes was a master at pitching his voice so that no one he didn't want to hear him could possibly hear him.

The officer hadn't mastered that trick yet, but she was new to the platoon. New to the musketeers. Sikes though her a decent enough bloke, and a much better officer than many he'd broken in through his years of service. Sure, she was small, and skinny, but she knew where to hit a man to get him moving, and usually just had to voice a choice word or two to do the same.

The rest of the men looked at her diminutive size and saw nothing more than the dandy they took her for. Impeccable grooming and a habit of taking baths at every opportunity did nothing to lessen this image that they had.

Tension mounted when the sound of tack jingling at the open mouth of the alley alerted the men to their quarry.

The officer smiled, her teeth shining in the near darkness. At this time of the evening, she doubted that it could possibly be anyone other than her prey, but she would make sure, just in case.

"In the name of the king, stand to and prepare to be searched for contraband!"

The scrape of swords being pulled from their scabbards was unmistakable, but still the officer held her fire. The men began to charge, trying to get past the thirty feet separating them before the slow firing weapons could discharge.

As soon as they blocked the alley, the officer said in a calm, quiet voice, "Fire."

Hell was unleashed on earth. The sulfur stink permeated the alley, and the officer sneezed, twice.

One of her men yelled out, "God Bless," to general snickering, through which they lay down their muskets, some more forcefully than others, and drew their swords.

Still calm, the woman called the charge, "For the King and Fleese! For the Musketeers!"

Two rows of muskets five men across had shot ten musket balls into the packed mass of humanity charging at them. Two had curved into the sides and pancaked against the walls, leaving smears of lead behind. One had fallen short, as the powder had become partially fouled.

Seven reached their targets and tore completely through the front line, lodging into the one behind.

Blood poured into the street making the slick cobbles even more treacherous for men now forced to jump over their comrades. A number failed and went crashing into the ground. From seven shots, fourteen men were wounded.

One of the men at the rear lit the flares they'd kept for this point, and a blinding magnesium light shown from behind the king's men. The officer pushed past her men and charged into the fray. It was over the moment that they lit off the flare, but didn't end until the enemy stopped moaning.

A ragged cheer rang out, and Sikes sought out his officer.

"Well, Lieutenant Handel, it seems you've brought us through safely after all."

"Not without your help, Sergeant."

"A good officer knows how to use his NCOs, but a great one knows to let them lead. You have the makings of a great one."

"Sergeant Sikes, get your ass back in line and let's get back to the barracks."

Those who heard the interchange laughed, and Sikes called out to them in a parade ground bellow.

"Alright you momma's boys. Collect your kit and form up."

"The sergeant's cold and wants to get home to his fire and blankie!" one of the men called out.

"Bearings, if you make one more comment, I'll make you march back to your bunk naked."

When Bearings, a natural born exhibitionist if there ever was one, began to strip, Lt. Handel called out.

"Bearings, if you don't stop stripping, I'll bury you in the latrine."

The laugher was a little more raucous at this, and Bearings stopped stripping.

"But, sir."

"Bearings, what did I tell you about making another comment! Strip!"

The laughter was uncontrolled at this point, and even Lt. Handel joined in.

Sikes walked over to the officer and whispered, "Are you really going to bury him in the latrine?"

"Only up to his neck."

Sikes snickered and clapped the young officer on the back.

"Gather your gear, Bearings, or it comes out of your pay," called Lt. Handel.

Bearings grumbled at this a bit, put his boots back on for the march back home, and saluted as best as he was able.

While they stood there in their lines, Lt. Handel searched the bodies. She cut the crests from a couple of the men's tunics as evidence.

"Sergeant, take a couple of men and secure the horses. Take ones who can ride this time," she said with a smile.

Sikes called out a couple of names and they went to get the wagons to bring along.

"March!"

Lieutenant Mar Handel wondered for a moment if there was something wrong with her. She knew that the men around her could easily become aroused at even the tiniest bit of the proper scintilla of flesh showing. She felt no stirrings at all seeing the naked Bearings marching in front of her.

She found the naked male body to be a bit repulsive. Not that she found the female body any less so. She just never felt herself aroused by anyone. No quickening of the heart, like her sisters had talked about. No blood flow to the nethers like the guys.

Nothing she could pinpoint.

Mostly she saw it as something to get in the way of her goal of leading a regiment into war some day.

The boys began a marching song, one that would have made her blush a few short months ago, but only made her smile now. She let them have their fun. There'd be time for discipline tomorrow.

"Hey, Mar. You up?"

"I just got to sleep, Wil, can't it wait?"

Having people share her room with her required more care than she would otherwise have needed, but being an unmarried officer she was forced to live in the barracks with her men. She only had to share with two other junior lieutenants, but it was a hassle never the less. She had to make sure never to get undressed in their presence. They thought it a bit peculiar, but everyone has their peculiarities.

"It's after nine o'clock."

Mar let loose a profanity or two and leapt from her bed. She quickly donned the uniform jacket she'd hung at the foot of her bed and did up the buttons.

She'd have to skip the farce of shaving this morning, hoping no one would notice. Men seemed to miss little things like that regularly, a fact she didn't mind, but not something she could rely upon for the long term. Eventually someone would notice that she never needed to shave.

"Sikes already dismissed your men, and the Colonel said that they would have light duty today. He's like to see you however."

More profanities as her boots refused to go on her feet. Eventually, her sleep deprived mind realized she was attempting to put them on the wrong feet and fixed the problem.

Men were at drill. Some marching in perfect formations. Some loading, firing, and reloading to the cadence of the drums. Each motion part of a complex dance. A dance that quickened her heart like none she'd ever known before this life of sweat and honor.

She was the master of this dance, and it always…

She sneezed as the smallest whiff of powder smoke reached her.

"Good Morning, Lieutenant Handel!" the troop firing called out in a sing song upon hearing her sneeze.

Her expression hardened, but she didn't have the time at the moment to lay into them. A command appearance with the colonel was more important.

The colonel's adjutant, Captain Briant, a man even more foppish than Mar, looked up as she entered the antechamber.

"Ah, Mar. How pleasant to see you here!"

There were rumors floating around camp about Cpt. Briant's…predilections…and Mar suppressed a shudder. If he were turning his sights on the too pretty Lieutenant of muskets then Mar would have to watch herself. Even he wouldn't accept a sheep in wolf's clothing like her.

"I was called in by the colonel, Captain."

"Then go right in, Mar."

She glared at him, but he only laughed.

"Ah, Mar. Come in. Have a seat."

"Colonel," she said as soon as she was seated, "I haven't done anything wrong have I? My unit has completed the task given to us admirably. The wagons and horses have been added to the train. The contraband is under guard…"

"Relax, Mar. This isn't a punishment, unless you consider lace and petticoats to be a punishment."

Mar blanched a little, and allowed her confusion to peak through. Could he possibly know…

"A dance, Mar, a formal ball. What did you think I was suggesting?"

Mar began to laugh. "Sorry, sir, It was a long night. For some reason I thought you might be suggesting I parade around in one of those confections."

The colonel began to laugh, "that, Mar, is one of the funniest things I've heard all day. Imagine requiring one of my soldiers to march in that. Talk about a punishment to humble even the most crass among us."

Mar smiled politely at his comment.

"No, Mar, a dance. I was thinking to reward your action last night. Got your report by the way. Reading between the lines I can tell that you greatly underplayed your part in that. I have it from good authority that you led the charge? Well, I expected you to be a lead from your bunk type…pleasantly surprised I must say."

Mar colored and allowed a bit of her anger to peek through. The colonel had been on the edge of calling her a coward, but without a more specific statement…

The colonel glowered at her. "You know how I feel about dueling between the ranks, Lieutenant. And need I remind you that I have survived more than ten times the duels that you have."

"I'm sorry, sir."

"I should have thought a bit more carefully before making my statement. I know you are not a coward, Mar, and I saw your duel with Lieutenant Hicks. He never even knew he was dead. Letting your men charge in is not a statement of cowardice, Mar. It is just a statement. A pitched battle is not a duel, and I wish more of my men would understand that. This time it worked out for you, but I truly wish that you would use that head of yours for more than just holding up your hat next time. I meant it as a hope, not a suggestion of anything you lacked."

The shock on Mar's face was evident.

"You…want me to send my men in first?"

"Mar, your men are more easily replaced than you are. Back to more important matters. On Thursday there is a dance. My adjutant always seems to neglect his duty at these, and I thought to give you an opportunity to accompany me."

"His duty?"

"Stay sober. Dance with the ladies. And make sure I leave before I make a complete fool of myself."

"Sir…"

"Before you say that I could never be a fool, realize that I am an old campaigner and I know a feint when I see one."

Mar genuinely smiled at this.

"Just wear your best uniform and we should be fine. Who knows, you might even wheedle your way into a patronage. Heaven knows some ladies like a man who is prettier than they."

Mar marched into the hall a step to the left and a step behind the colonel.

"Colonel Leftbridge, at last!"

The man, one Lord Amherst, was wearing a parody of the colonel's regimental uniform. Not intended to mock, more intended to flatter. It was something Mar's father would have called borrowed honors. The woman standing beside him had Mar's sympathy. Mar could hear the slight creaking of her corset as she attempted to breathe.

Mar was so glad to be rid of those for what she hoped would be forever.

The ladies in the room wore confections of silk and lace, and for a moment Mar felt a longing to be back there among them. To be pretty and desired. The moment was pushed aside. She wanted more to command men. To be on the field of battle. To achieve glory by the sword, and one day, to possibly die by the sword. The prattling of the other women about flowers and woodland animals that went on at one of these social gatherings used to bore her to tears.

What sane person actually likes the sciences?

Mar brought herself back to the issue at hand as she was being introduced.

"May I present Mar Handel."

"Handel …did I know your father? Strange, I never thought he had a son …"

"My father was many things, and insane was one of them. You knew he dabbled in the sciences?"

The look of shock on Lord and Lady Amherst's faces was exactly what Mar had been looking for. She might as well have accused her father of witchcraft.

"He kept me away from the public eye, attempting to teach me to enjoy his pursuit."

"You poor dear," Lady Amherst intoned, "He didn't do anything …untoward to you, did he?"

"No, Lady Amherst. Nothing like that."

"Well, I think this is enough dwelling on the past, and as you two seem to be our last guests, let me introduce you around."

Lady Amherst took Mar by the arm and all but dragged her off to meet the ladies scattered around the dance.

Ale chuckled as he watched his wife go, "Looks like young Mar might have a patron already, eh Kei."

"Ale, I'm surprised at you! And your wife?"

"Stop right there, Kei. You know that my wife and I have … and arrangement."

Kei Leftbridge grimaced in disgust.

"I see you're still not married, Kei. You are one of my older friends, but until you get to deal with the trials of marriage, don't look down upon how I deal with them."

"How many of your children are yours, Ale."

"The first one." Ale said with a chuckle. "Hence the reason he's the only one who gets anything from me."

"Well, I need a drink after that revelation," Kei said. Ale said that his friend needed a drink after every revelation and the two old friends wandered off to find some refreshment.

Lady Amherst's innuendo was becoming more and more obvious as the night wore on. Mar was doing her best to extricate herself politely, and having no luck.

She looked around desperately for an escape route, and finally spied one. What Mar first noticed about her was her hair. Unlike most of the women around her who had hair varying from dark brown to almost black, the girl's hair was golden. It set off the pale blue of her dress almost as if it were a gem placed upon her head for that very purpose. It cascaded down her back, loose over the pale skin and silk alike.

She turned in that moment, and for the first time Mar saw her face. Her eyes, the color of amber, met Mar's for the briefest moment, and Mar disappeared into them. Then her gaze passed on, unseeing. She was looking around the room, as if searching for someone, and Mar used that as an excuse.

"Lady Amherst, I have just seen an old friend. If you'll excuse me?"

Her heart raced as she approached the unknown beauty. More than it had when she had been standing in that alleyway a couple of nights ago. Mar did not slow down as she approached, hoping that this unknown beauty would play along. Hoping the girl would … something. Mar was confused by her own emotions in that moment, and only knew that she wanted something indefinable from the other person.

She put her arm around the girl's waist and drew her into an embrace.

"If you don't mind, please don't scream out. I'm attempting to escape the attentions of our hostess and I've told her that you're a dear old friend."

"Well, it seems we'll both be useful to each other, then, as I know absolutely no one here, and I was beginning to worry I was drawing unwanted attention." There was a slight lilt to the woman's voice, an accent that Mar couldn't place.

"You would draw attention no matter who you were standing with. It is rare that a woman allows her daughters to be seen in public with loose un-dyed hair. And with that shade? Scandalous."

The girl blushed prettily, and Mar's heart skipped a beat. Mar's smile faded. She couldn't risk this. She knew that any relationship she had would have to be at a distance, but for the first time she felt drawn to another person. It was the hair. It had to be. It was just the strangeness of the hair.

For a moment, the girl seemed shocked by the revelation, but then her face smoothed and she smiled. All of Mar's fears melted in the heat of that smile.

Mar took a step back, and took the girl's hand. "Mar Handel at your service, ma'am." She brought the tips of the girl's gloved fingers to her lips in the merest suggestion of a kiss.

The girl blushed, and Mar realized that she was going to be spending a lot of time trying to get this girl to blush.

"Anhelette, Anhelette Livingston."

"Pleased to meet you, Anhelette. Would you care for a dance?"

Anhelette smiled and gave the slightest of nods. Mar offered the girl her arm, and they entered the complex form of the dance.

Black powder and lace
copyright 2011 Faeriemage
When the entire universe is stacked against you, all you can do is change the game.

---

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I find myself actually fighting with myself to keep pacing for once. I like the battle. Changing the outcome of scenes is something I've thought about in the past but usually just ignored. For now, I will try to keep everything progressing at a moderate pace.

My working on this story does not mean that I am dropping any of my other projects. I am still working on a complete revision and edit of '12-String: Opening Act,' and I will be continuing 'What was lost...' as well sometime soon. I just simply want to get this story established first.

---

Anhelette shut the door behind her and let out a huge sigh. Before trying to disrobe, she looked at herself in the full length mirror.

"Remember who you are, girl. The dashing young gentleman may be handsome, but you're not here for that."

"Wise words, corporal. And I never knew that he was your type."

Anhelette's breath caught in her throat stifling the scream that wanted to be born. She threw her glove at the figure lounging on her bed.

"It isn't done for a man to be alone in a lady's room, lounging on her bed, in the middle of the night."

"Good thing you aren't a lady, corporal."

Anhelette threw her other glove at him.

"Temper," he cautioned, "so, what news do you have?"

"None, sir. None whatsoever. These people are as tight lipped as any you'd ever care to know. Apparently Collins should have figured out that the hair color thing is dye. And it is just not done for a woman to be seen in public with her hair down." Anhelette blushed, "Or at least I should say in civilized society."

"You mean…"

Anhelette just nodded and blushed even hotter.

"Well, that would have been a good thing to know, but this wasn't Collins' fault. Two days, corporal. Two. And half that time he spent in jail for public indecency. That left you as the only choice. He was only able to figure out that all of their scientific writings are in Latin."

"It still amazes me that they were able to hold onto that knowledge when so many other things were lost."

"Well, since you are the only one on my ship who speaks Latin, and that fluently, you get the job."

"But this? I'm suffocating!" Anhelette was gesturing at the clothing she was wearing. When they'd first recruited her it had all been about scientific discovery and safeguarding the future of humanity. Not parading about like a trussed up ham on its way to the banquet.

"Get used to it. You look good in a corset, corporal."

Anhelette fell to the ground trying to get her boot off so she could throw that. There was a knock at the door and a maid came in.

"Is everything alright, Miss Livingston? I thought I heard a man's voice in here."

"No, as you can see I'm alone…although I am having trouble with my boots. I think my feet swelled with all of this nights dancing. I am not used to this."

"I can imagine not," the maid said with a glance toward Anhelette's hair.

"It was normal for a woman to wear her hair down where I came from, Monique."

"You should have listened to me earlier, Miss. Now it is simply too late."

"What do you mean?" Anhelette paled as the blood rushed from her face.

"Because you started a complete riot, Miss. Lady Amherst said that she will have to wear her hair down for the next dance."

"She didn't."

"She did. It seems that it is public knowledge that she has set her sights on the young lieutenant, and she feels that if she were to…conform…to his preferred look that she might have a chance."

Anhelette just stared at her maid. Well, it was the house maid that had been assigned to help her when she rented the room, but Anhelette felt a bit of pride for the diminutive thirteen year old.

"It's true, Miss. I overheard Lady Amherst's maid tell Marquise Chanteux's maid all about it just before I left. It seems that they, the grand ladies mentioned, feel he spent too much time with you this evening."

Anhelette blushed crimson, and smiled. Why did she feel this way? She couldn't be close to these people. She would have to betray them in the end, wouldn't she? That was the mission after all. Mar wasn't even her type.

"The Lady thought that she had a chance as Mar has never in the past paid the slightest attention to any of the eligible girls thrust upon him."

"Why all the interest in one junior officer?"

"The Handel family is one of the oldest, and wealthiest, families in all of Flees, Miss. It is not the man, but the gold that they all seek."

"He didn't seem wealthy."

"That is because he decided to strike out on his own. Some think that it was a term of the will."

Anhelette smiled at the thought.

"I thought that is why you spent so much time with him tonight, Miss."

"Caleene, I spent so much time with him because he is flattering, and an excellent dancer."

"He doesn't look bad either."

"Just get me out of this dress, Cal."

Caleene blanched, and Anhelette turned around to face her directly instead of looking at her in the mirror as she had been.

"What's wrong? What did I say?"

"It's just not done, Miss. My name is Caleene. I am a woman and proud of it, Miss."

"I didn't…"

"I know you're foreign, Miss, but that is…it is…"

"I am so sorry, Caleene. I truly am. What can I do to make it up to you? I think of you as friend more than servant. I do not want to lose you."

"You…thank you, Miss."

"Call me Anhelette, please. I do still need help getting into and out of these…torture devices called clothing, but other than that…"

"Other than that, Anhelette? That is the bulk of the duties I perform for you. I have to say that you strip the bed even before I can get to it. You really act as though you've been cleaning up after yourself your entire life."

"Don't tell anyone, but I have."

Caleene's jaw dropped. Confusion warred with a pleased smile for a few moments before the smile won out. "You are a strange woman, Anhelette."

Anhelette thought to herself that the maid didn't even know the half of it. Caleene helped her to remove the over dress, hoop skirt, and corset before finally ensconcing Anhelette in her bed. Anhelette breathed a sigh of relief when she finally found herself alone, and free to breathe, in her bed. She was asleep before the door closed.

Anhelette grimaced as she downed the concoction called, but totally unlike, coffee. If anything it tasted a bit like burnt unsweetened chocolate with a hint of sage as an afterthought. It was hot, however, and the caffeine content fairly buzzed in her veins after the first sip.

If she knew what the local word for a sugar variant was, she'd ask for it.

"Caleene? Do people put milk in their…coffee?"

"Why no, Miss…"

"Anhelette, please. If you need to call me Miss Anhelette when other's are here, by all means. But when it is just the two of us…"

"No, Anhelette. It is felt that diluting it in any way…"

"Well, let me have it diluted. I dare say this is strong enough to clean off the cobbles outside."

Caleene snickered at this, but when to fetch some milk. Anhelette allowed the saucer to rest there on her table as she looked out the window at the rising sun. The mountain's surrounding the city state meant that even though it was only just peaking over the horizon the hands on the clock were well past the eleventh hour.

She heard a sound from behind her. "Just place it here on the table, Caleene and I'll add it myself."

"I'll do no such thing, child."

Anhelette rose and spun to see her intruder. It was one of the older ladies from the previous evening. Anhelette wasn't sure whether to bow, or curtsey, or…whatever. Feeling that something was better than nothing, and knowing by the tone of voice that she was used to command, Anhelette dropped into the lowest curtsey that she could.

"A curtsey, how quaint. I'd heard that you were not versed in our customs, and now I see that this is the case. A proper woman tilts her head to her betters, child. I assume that lack of knowledge is also the reason you neglected to visit me upon your first arrival here?"

"I…yes…I mean."

"Well, spit it out, child. I'm only the city's matron, after all."

"Matron, I'm sorry. You are right. I simply didn't know the city's custom."

"How far away are you from?"

"Roma, Matron."

"Roma? I've never heard of that city."

Anhelette smiled at this, albeit a small one. Roma was the name of a planet.

"It is a long way from here, Matron. I've been wandering so long that even I no longer know where exactly it is. My home was on the shore of the most beautiful azure sea."

"You poor dear. How did you come to be here in my city?"

Anhelette had no way to tell her the truth, and the story that they had concocted suddenly didn't ring true enough for her. She began to cry.

"There there, child. Peace. By your bearing, I take it you were noble?"

"Yes, Matron. I was the first born child of the legate."

Two things occurred to Anhelette as she spoke this last sentence. The first was that the word she'd said was not 'legate' but 'legatus'. The second was that she'd used the masculine ending for the word child.

"Child, you should not speak that tongue where men could hear."

Anhelette blushed bright red and found herself unable to reply.

"So, you were a scientist, were you my dear?"

"Yes, Matron. I didn't mean to cause offense."

"Hush, child. It has been years since I have heard more than the patois that my fellow sisters choose to assault my ears with. I must say, however, that your pronunciation is not something I am used to. You must be from far away indeed."

"Yes, Matron."

"So…natural, physical, or chemical."

It took Anhelette a moment or two to piece together what had been said to her. She should have stated chemical, but something made her change her mind at the last minute. Something about that white light from earlier in the week.

"Physical sciences, Matron."

"Physics. Well, if you'd like, I could introduce you to some girls your age who are interested in the same discipline."

Anhelette's smile glowed. Her mission was finally moving forward as it was supposed to.

"So, Lieutenant, we hear you dipped into the treasure that this town has to offer."

"Attention!" Mar said, but she was smiling all the same. "Sergeant Sikes. It seems that the men have an excess of energy today!"

"Aye, sir. A sad state of affairs if I ever saw one."

"What shall we do about it?"

"Well, you did promise to bury Bearings in the latrine…"

"Sarge!"

"An excellent idea, Sikes. And since you volunteered…oversee the men mucking out the latrine."

There were general groans, since that was one of the worst duties that they had to perform. The women always promised that they had some new invention just around the corner that would remove the necessity. However, they always seemed to put it at a lower priority because the men were the ones who did the…dirty work.

That, and the fact that they found the entire concept distasteful.

A boy ran up to the formation of men, stopping just short of Mar.

"Lieutenant Mar Handel?" he asked, out of breath.

"Relax, boy. You've reached your destination."

"My mistress requests a response."

"Sergeant, see the men through their drills. Light labor today as we are on night watch again."

There were cheers from the men when they heard their real task for the day, quickly silenced by a glare from Sikes. "All right, you layabouts. You're slower than dog snot in winter. I've seen raw recruits reload faster than you lot. We should have been able to put two shots into those ruffians the other night, but you lot just fired and went to swords. We're going to drill until your dead, or I'm satisfied, and mama Sikes boy is never satisfied!"

There were some groans at this, and Bearings mimed the last line back at Sikes, but they went off to their drills in high spirits. The best of them knew that these drills might save their lives some day, and the worst of them knew not to complain too loudly.

Mar took the letter back to his room. She tore it open eagerly only to find it wasn't from the object of her interest, but Lady Amherst.

Mar was tempted to crumple the missive into a ball and throw it into the corner, but the messenger was still waiting for a reply, so reply he must.

The Esteemed Mar Handel,

You seem to have caused quite a stir with your actions at my party last night. The ladies of society can't seem to stop talking about you, and many seek to become better acquainted with such a dashing figure as yourself. News of your actions only two days ago in safeguarding this city have reached even these lovely ears.

While it would be over stepping my bounds to invite you openly, I am in dire need of an escort to Mme. LaFleur's event this Saturday. It is sure to be the social gathering of the season, and escorting me would ensure your ability to attend.

I stand ever at your disposal,
Lady Lorentia Amherst

Immediately, Mar's mind went back to the events of the night before. She replayed all of the moments that she was captured by the force of Anhelette's presence. Never had she ever felt so drawn to anyone, and to have it be another woman…

Mar recoiled at the very thought. It was not right, no matter how she presented herself. Someday she would have to give up this life, she knew it. When that time came she would just have to resign herself to a loveless marriage and the bearing of children, should she still be able.

She could not…do that.

But even as she tried to push thoughts of the bewitching creature from her mind, she again saw that first moment when their eyes met. The twinkle of amusement that sparkled in the amber depths.

Almost of its own accord, she found her hands taking out paper and quill and beginning to pen her response to Lady Amherst. If there was even a chance of seeing Anhelette at this party, then she wanted to be there. She might never be able to do more than watch her, but Mar wanted to do just that.

To watch her, study her, commit every movement to memory so that Anhelette would be with her no matter where life took the young soldier.

"Take this to your mistress, boy. And take this for your trouble." Mar pressed a few coins into the child's hands and watched with amusement as the boy took off running again. As soon as he thought he was out of earshot, the boy let out a whoop of joy.

Mar shook her head, smiling, and dug into the paperwork that seemed her lot in life any more.

Anhelette followed the Matron into the sitting room. This time her hair was properly done up and netted as it should have been previously. She wore a dove colored outer dress this time, hoping that the more muted color would help her better to fit in. The girls in the room grew quiet upon seeing the Matron.

"Girls, may I present Anhelette Livingston."

"What sort of a name is Anhelette?" one of the girls whispered.

"Mine," Anhelette replied, "and I have excellent hearing as well."

The Matron smiled at this, but said nothing about it, "Anhelette states she is of the physical discipline. Please make her feel welcome."

Anhelette sat down in the gaggle of young women, feeling completely out of her depth. As soon as the door was locked, they began to speak exclusively in Latin, and Anhelette sat there smiling.

"I think we have left our compatriot behind," said one of them after a couple of minutes.

"She seemed a bit daft yesterday at the dance. Imagine arriving with your hair down. I'd as soon arrive without a stitch of clothing."

Anhelette began to laugh, "I grew up speaking Latin in my home. It wasn't a secret language there, but the only language. That you country bumpkins think yourselves my superior because you have a passing understanding of my native tongue…" She made sure to use the proper gender of her terms this time, so when they began to stare she blushed. She didn't know what she'd done to offend, but she knew it was something…

"People speak Latin somewhere? We all thought it a long dead language."

"If there is a language that someone else doesn't understand there will always be people who use it for just that reason."

"We all know your name, Anhelette. Let me introduce us to you." Starting at the left end of the circle, the young woman went through and introduced each of the girls she was sitting with: Natallia, Brianne, Lucette, and Orellia.

"It's a pleasure to meet you all."

"The pleasure is ours."

Anhelette still felt like an outsider in this group, but their topic was something that she could understand completely. The primary concern related to making the wall around the town proof against cannon. Anhelette smiled as she began to explain to them what a glacis was.

They marched into the dark of the sleeping city. The torches had long since burnt out, and Mar smiled to herself. She only truly felt alive when she was on patrol like this. The last time they'd had a clear goal: Stop people breaking the king's laws.

Now, however, there was no clear goal. Like usual on night watch they were simply there to keep the peace.

Something about the air didn't feel right to Mar. The night wasn't quite as still as it should be, and she heard the occasional furtive scuttling sound coming from somewhere up ahead.

"Sikes," she whispered.

"Yes, sir?"

"Who is the quietest?"

"I'd say you and I, but in a pinch Bearings isn't too bad."

"Pass on to the men that they're to stay here until we call them forward. You Bearings and I will then move forward. There's something not right about the air tonight."

"Someone's out and about, besides us, that's for sure."

Mar could hear the sounds of creaking leather from the other members of the platoon long after they'd left them behind. The sounds of scraping became louder the further they went, and the slight glow of a lantern became visible.

The three of them stepped into the alley way, drawing their swords as they did so. Mar stopped in shock at the sight that met her. It wasn't the sight of the men wearing uniform of the elite guard of Genin that surprised her. It was the bag of gold that Lord Amherst was counting.

Black powder and lace
copyright 2011 Faeriemage
When the entire universe is stacked against you, all you can do is change the game.

---

AUTHOR'S NOTE: We get another glimpse into the makeup of the world, a little tiny smidgen of politics, and another moment between our two young lovers. This also begins the introduction of the primary crisis for the story.

---

Mar recovered before the group of Genin soldiers, "In the name of the king…"

That was as far as she got. The group of soldiers around Lord Amherst charged, drawing swords as they came. In a running battle, having your swords already drawn gives you a momentary advantage. Sometimes a moment is all that you need.

"Musketeers! To Me!" Mar yelled, a bit of her normal soprano creeping in, but she no longer cared. She was fighting and that's all that mattered.

The first opponent to reach her tried to parry her blow with his mailed arm, as his sword was tangled in its sheath. She ducked out of the way of his counter blow and used his own momentum to impale him on her sword. His twisting body yanked her sword from her grasp, but also freed his sword. She drew it and went onto the next foe.

A man was advancing on Sikes flank so she slashed her new sword across his hamstrings allowing Sikes the advantage.

She turned in time to barely avoid a slash to her ribs. Her leather over shirt was cut, but the mail middle shirt took most of the lethality out of the blow, but she would be feeling it tomorrow. She grinned at her opponent. There were different styles of combat used for each type of foe you would be fighting. Whether they were wearing mail or plate or nothing at all, there was a style that helped you to get through their defenses.

Her opponents lapse was her gain. A quick, but powerful, thrust and she watched the back of his tabard tent away from his body. She quickly removed her sword and then she was surrounded by the green of her company and the remaining enemy soldiers were throwing down their arms.

"Looks like you're going to need a new tabard, sir."

Mar ignored Sikes and walked over to Lord Amherst.

"I demand you release me!"

"Lord Amherst, you were accepting money…"

"All you have is your word. How will the king know that it wasn't you and your men who were accepting the bribe for getting these soldiers into the city."

"Lord Amherst. You may very well say that later, and impugn my honor. I dare say you might even get the king to listen to it. However, know this, if I ever hear about it then I will meet you on Harral's Field and I will get satisfaction."

Lord Amherst paled visibly, even in the poor light of the lantern, at the almost casual mention of one of the cities more notorious dueling pitches. It had not been a casual reference by her colonel that she was a duelist.

When she first entered service in the company there had been others, soldier and officer alike, who thought her weak and unfit for service. One had even called her a woman. She defended her position well and left every duel she'd ever been in without a scratch on her. She always chose death and not blood. For a while people had even started to call her Angel of Death.

Some of this must have come back to the Lord as he stood there. He began to tremble a bit, and even turned and vomited. Her men laughed at him.

Corporal Laramie pulled rope out of thin air, like usual, and tied their prisoners together for the walk to King's Prison on the other side of the city.

Mar grimaced when she realized that she was making a slight clinking sound when she walked. The chain middle shirt was freed a bit and rattling as she walked. Depending on the extent of the damage to the leather over the top she'd likely just have to apply a bit of resin to bind the leather over and under together and then sew up the cut. The armor was heavy, but worth the protection it afforded, especially when it tricked an opponent into a misstep like tonight.

For a moment or two after she woke up, Anhelette was disoriented. The dream been so real. She still felt the joy of Mar's arms wrapping around her, and being accepted for everything that she was. She shook her head angrily and got up to prepare for Caleene. Her maid may have helped her with all of the over garments and corsets and such, but Anhelette took care of getting properly situated in all of her under garments.

"What I wouldn't give for a nice pair of briefs at this point. Even a bra would be a welcome change…"

"What's a bra, Anhelette?"

"A wonderful invention I was introduced to since leaving my homeland. Beats a corset for support any day of the week."

"Support?"

Anhelette gestured toward her breasts and Caleene blushed.

"Well, let's get me ready for the day, Caleene, and if you could possibly consider letting me breathe a bit I'd much appreciate it."

Caleene just laughed as she began pulling the corset tight.

"Ale, we were friends. How could you do this to me…to our city?"

"When are you and the other families going to look up from your knees and see that we're already lost. Genin is not just a city but a nation. Three…In the past year they've captured three other cities."

"Through treachery and the greed of its nobles no doubt," Mar said from the other side of the room. "They would have no reason to try to bribe you if they didn't feel that there was something in it for them."

"They told me it was to ease the transition. I would be the governor, as they put it, of this city."

"You would govern your people for this foreign power? You would sell us out of a handful of gold and a promise of power?" Colonel Henries could barely contain his rage. "We are a city of over ten thousand, Ale. We field an army to rival any two other cities. Our foundry is the best of any city in the world. And you would sell us out to a third rate city with a couple of towns to its name? You are worse than a traitor, Ale, you are a fool."

"They took the first city by force, Kei. You know the rumors going about. They were firing up to ten shots per minute per cannon."

Mar snorted. There was no way that the rumors could be accurate. A well trained team to get shots off every twenty-five seconds or so. Even then, there was the very real danger of the gun just bursting on them. A smart commander shot once every couple of minutes.

But ten shots per minute? Six seconds per shot?

Impossible.

"You think I lie, Lieutenant? I saw them firing myself. They told me that it was a relaxed rate of fire, but I counted five shots from a single cannon before my watch showed a single minute had gone by."

"Get the matron in here, Mar. I think we need to talk to the women about this."

Mar ran out through the door and up six flights of stairs to where the Matron sat in her office. Mar wondered where all of his reverence for the office had gone. As a young girl, Mar had been afraid to breathe every time that the matron came to their home. She had been such an august personage.

Now, Mar realized that her only power existed in the minds of the women who put themselves under her power. She wasn't even really part of the government. More just a high level bureaucrat.

"Matron," Mar said, a bit out of breath, "We have need of some women to verify the prisoner's story."

Requests like this were uncommon, but not unheard of. The matron smiled at Mar.

"You know I realize now where I've seen you before. I saw you practicing the sword in your father's salle d'armes one day. Of course your attire was much more…traditional, shall we say?"

Mar stood there gaping.

"Close your mouth, dear. I was never one to stand by tradition for much of anything. I doubt any of the other ladies really remembers you, as you were always climbing a tree, or practicing your swordsmanship. You never enjoyed our company much, did you?"

Mar just shook her head with a little grimace of disgust.

"Well…Mar was it? One word of caution. Be careful about showing your affections for the Livingston girl. While you may be able to survive…the scandal of it, I doubt she would be. She already has a mark against her as a foreigner after all. Then there's the matter of her hair," the matron said with a little sniff.

"The prisoner, Matron?"

"You know what gave you away, Mar? None of the other men add that tone of deference when saying my title."

Mar laughed and the Matron joined her.

"I'll do what I can to belittle your office…matron."

"See that you do, Mar."

The matron entered the parlor alone, as Mar had left her to go back to the dungeon under the Palace of Justice. That they would house most of the bureaucracy of the city in the same place had always been a little incongruous to the Matron, but she was not one to turn down the beautiful offices that they had assigned to her. "Anhelette and Natallia. Your presence is requested at Justice."

"But Matron, they have never requested the presence of two before…"

"Natallia, I chose two. Anhelette does not have time to be properly instructed in her duties to the city, so I've decided that observation would serve best. You are the one I have chosen, and she is there to see how you go about your duties."

"Yes, Matron."

"Both of you should probably change, since the prisoner is being kept in the dungeon. Brown woolens would be best."

Anhelette began to worry a bit. All of the clothing sent with her was…elegant. Designed to be seen and not worked. No one on the ship had ever dreamed that they would have her crawling around in a dungeon.

"You have a question, Anhelette?"

"I don't have…"

"That's alright, Matron, I have a dress that will suit her." Natallia said with a bit of a glimmer in her eye. Anhelette was relieved, but unsure as to the cost that this little offering would exact.

"Come, Anhelette, we've no time to waste."

There had been moments when Anhelette was sure she was going to show off more than she felt comfortable with, but in the end, and covered in what Anhelette was sure was out of fashion clothing, Anhelette stood looking at herself. Natallia's flash of anger was gratifying as well, if not for the reasons that another girl might have had.

Anhelette knew that her face was too angular to ever be truly beautiful, especially by this societies standards, but she had to admit that her body looked sexy even in what amounted to sackcloth.

"Tie up your hair with this, Anhelette. It will tend to prevent getting anything in it that you wouldn't like. You know how borers like untreated hair."

Anhelette blinked a couple of times, and then everything fell into place. These people didn't dye their hair for fashion. They did it for their health. Anhelette blushed as she wondered whether the girl standing next to her dyed all of her hair.

"I didn't know."

Natallia looked at her confused for a few moments, and then her jaw fell open. "You mean…we just thought you either self absorbed or insanely brave. They don't have borers where you're from?"

More than you know, Anhelette thought to herself. She just shook her head.

"Well, then, we might just have to get your hair treated before we head back there the next time. It stinks to high heaven but it protects you."

"All of my hair?"

Natallia looked shocked and blushed bright red when the import of her words finally got through. "Of course not…all of our undergarments are properly treated. As are these dresses we're wearing. I keep trying to convince the Chemists to come up with a treatment that doesn't dye everything brown, but what can you expect. They are more interested in new perfumes than in something no one will ever see…"

Natallia blushed at this.

"Except for your husband?"

"Or your Lieutenant."

It was Anhelette's turn to blush.

Natallia laughed. "I'm sorry for my previous behavior, Anhelette. It's not every day that a woman with the body of an angel comes and declares that she actually is an angel to everyone."

Anhelette opened her mouth to speak, but Natallia stopped her. "Don't worry about it, Anhelette. I know that's not your real name, and if you don't want…"

"Minerva," Anhelette said, almost without thinking. It had been her mother's name, and no matter what Natallia thought she wanted, Anhelette was sure that her real name would have caused problems. It's not every day that your name just happens to be the same as a peoples prime devil.

Hence the reason that the captain had thought it would be funny to give her the name of Anhelette.

"That…is so foreign sounding. I'll stick with Anhelette if you don't mind," Natallia looked at Anhelette expectantly. Anhelette shook her head so Natallia continued, "I can almost believe that you are from as far away as you claim. This will be something for the Naturists to consider. They believe that borers were endemic to the human condition on this world."

Natallia colored and shut her mouth. Anhelette didn't even notice the other woman's discomfort as the words passed by her without note. Anhelette already knew that mankind had not originated here after all.

Natallia helped Anhelette to pile her hair into the cloth cap, and made sure all of her hair was completely covered. After pronouncing her 'more beautiful than is fair,' the two women made their way out into the world.

"Oh good. They're here."

Mar looked up in reflex to the women entering the room, and her breath caught. Anhelette stood there, covered from head to toe in brown, and still she looked amazing. Upon seeing Mar, Anhelette smiled. Mar let a foolish grin slip out before she could return to a suitably reserved expression.

Anhelette walked over to stand next to Mar as she waited to see what would happen.

"Lord Amherst!" Natallia called out as she turned to see who the prisoner was.

"Ale has been stripped of his title and lands, and his wife will be joining him here in short order. You are here to verify his claims of the enemies capabilities," the colonel said.

"His claims?"

Mar spoke up, "he states that Genin has a cannon that is capable of a sustained rate of fire greater than two shots per minute."

"I said ten," the man in chains wailed. If any part of his story proved false, he knew what the punishment was.

"And then claimed to have only seen five," Mar replied.

Natallia was shocked, "Sir, there is no way that a cannon can keep up that rate of fire."

"Thank you, Natallia…"

"Wait!"

All eyes turned on Anhelette. She tried to shrink into the wall, but it was too late to take back her outburst.

"You have something to add, Anhelette," the Matron asked.

Anhelette tried to think fast. She knew that the sort of information she would be giving to these people would change everything. They were already progressing far faster than they should be, or was even healthy. This city had been picked as it seemed to be the furthest advanced of any of its neighbors. They were the only one with matchlocks after all.

But this…she wracked her brain, trying to remember what type of gun, of this period…

Then she smiled. She didn't need specifics. They didn't want her to build one for them. She just needed to bring up the possibility.

"Matron, if they were loading the cannon from the breech as opposed to the muzzle, then it is possible they would be able to load faster. As far as sustained fire, bronze or steel would be the best way to do that."

"Bronze?" The matron asked, but the colonel laughed.

"Of course. It's less brittle, more malleable. I'd think that it would be unsuited to cannon, though, for that reason," the colonel said as he jumped into the conversation.

"It needs to be retooled occasionally to keep the bore correct, sir, but Bronze will work as a material to make cannon."

The prisoner, however, was looking at her as if she were an apparition of some sort.

"How did you know?" he whispered.

"Know what?" Anhelette asked.

"It was a rear loading cannon. I would have taken that to my grave as my revenge, but you…you couldn't have known that."

"So you were lying to us, lord Amherst."

The prisoner's look of anger was replaced by one of horror. "Have the jailers come and take this filth away," the colonel said to Mar who immediately left.

"Miss Livingston, I believe that it is time that you and I had a long chat. Matron, if you would be so kind?"

Color drained from Anhelette's face as the Matron and colonel gestured for her to precede them through the door.

Black powder and lace
copyright 2011 Faeriemage
When the entire universe is stacked against you, all you can do is change the game.

---

AUTHOR'S NOTE: As has been said before, now for something completely different. No, I am not changing the story, per se, but I am adding in a couple of new characters. As I currently plan it, I will not be returning to Mar or Anhelette before chapter 5, so if you really can't wait for that part of the story, come back to this part later.

One thing I have decided is not to have a clear good/evil dynamic. People are people, by and large be they from America, France, or even Genin. Genin may be expansionistic, but that does not make them inherently evil. So, it's time to see their point of view.

Helmet, check. Armor, check. I'm ready, you all. Let the onslaught of angry readers commence ;)

---

"Put your backs into it, men!"

The straining soldiers in the purple of Genin struggled to get the wheel of the caisson out of the mud. The cannon was disconnected from everything else, having already been dragged through the mud hole.

"Marshal Freid," a boy said as he ran up to the man observing the muddy soldiers.

"What is it, Eron?"

"Grand Marshal Eamon sends his regard and requests the pleasure of your company."

"Would you relay to the Grand Marshal that I am overseeing the process of pulling the guns out of the muck that he so graciously guided us into and can't currently please him with my company."

"The Grand Marshal thought that would be your response, so he gave me another that he expected delivered by rote. 'Tell that good for nothing sack of river rocks that he is my subordinate, and not I his. If he doesn’t step to it and report on my time table I'll put demote him to able man, patron in the senate be damned.'"

Fried chuckled at the statement, knowing full well that the Grand Marshall loved his bluster. He also realized that if he were threatening demotion then it were something serious.

Before being inducted into Special Weapons he would never have thought something like it, but he marveled that horses faired so well on this planet when so many other species of animal brought with them didn't. He pulled himself into the saddle, and set off at a trot to the Grand Marshall's tent.

"You wanted to see me, Eamon?"

"You will show me the respect I deserve, Marshal Freid!"

"I show you the respect you deserve. The only reason you outrank me here is because the senate, may god preserve it, chose to create a new rank for you. If they'd really wanted you to be in charge, you would be a Field Marshall, or even a Marshall General. No, you are a Grand Marshall. Have you ever considered that it's because of your size?"

Eamon's round face turned a brilliant shade of red as he shook with anger.

"I am in charge of this…"

"Eamon, you are in charge of nothing. You will stay out of my way. You will stop calling me to your tent like a puppy every time that you need someone to change your diapers, and finally you will stop threatening things you can't get away with. Seriously. Threatening to demote me and take away my commission in the same breath? No one can take my commission from me. Not even the senate. So, while you could try to demote me all the way to page, you can't make me an able man."

Eamon laughed at the unintended joke, and after a moment Freid joined in.

"It's just that I am so bored, Freid. I expected being on campaign to be exciting, as it is…"

"It is mostly mud and marching, Grand Marshall. You could always head back to Genin City…"

"No, Freid, I can't. While I would like to, I am banished. Don't try to deny it. They don't want me in the city, so they foisted a commission on me, thereby taking away my name, title, and lands."

Freid smiled sadly at the man. A commission cost a lot. It was a year's wages in the fields to even buy the rank of Page. Each higher rank was, as was expected, even more. To become a Marshall, Freid had to pay his entire portion of the tribute from taking Aliaster. That had left him very little to live on over the past few months, and then they'd saddled him with this…person.

Eamon had lost even more than Freid, however.

"So, Eamon, what exactly is it that you wanted to see me about."

"The men in those wagons have come up with something new." Eamon's disgust at having men behave so unseemly as the people riding in the oversized wagons did was obvious. Even Freid could barely contain his disgust most times. Unfortunately, with the army being as far from home as it was, he couldn't complain about updates to his weapons. Since women weren't permitted to go to war, that left having men decipher the texts and work on the innovations that he would so desperately need.

No, need was to strong. That he wanted. He wanted all of his men to come home alive. He wanted to take Flees bloodlessly.

"Well, what have they got for us? Have they finally figured out how to make that…interrupted screw that they've been promising me?"

"No, no. Not that. They have, however, come up with this." Eamon gestured to one of his men, who went out. The man came back with a cloth cylinder. It didn't seem solid, in fact, it sifted a bit under its own weight.

Freid took the bag in his hands, and smelt it. "Black powder? Why would…"

The significance of the bag in his hands came to him. It would fit perfectly into one of the charge mugs for his guns.

"They tell me that it’s the powder that would fit into one and a half ladles. Exactly what we have found to be the best charge base. It will still be subject to damp and rain…"

Freid was already seeing the changes that this would make to his teams. No more ladles and half measures. It would be a perfect load every time. And quick. Drop a bag, drop a ball. Now, the loading of the mugs would be almost as fast as the loading of the cannon. They would be able to leave the quenching of the embers to just before they needed to load the mug.

"While there are many wonders in that book I would prefer to this, this brightens my day," Freid said with a smile.

Eamon laughed as Freid returned to his men.

Yes, this would be wonderful. And maybe, just maybe, they would be able to beat ten shots per minute.

Black powder and lace
copyright 2011 Faeriemage
When the entire universe is stacked against you, all you can do is change the game.

---

Matron Alecia Farrell shook her head as she walked beside Colonel Kei Lorenze. They were both of an age when most assumed that the passions of life began to cool, but even at the ripe old age of twenty-eight, she still felt a stirring for the dashing colonel. She'd never let him know of course, but she did like the way his uniform made him look.

Anhelette, on the other hand, was a conundrum. The girl had been there to observe, to see protocol. See that we served the city as loyally as any of the men. Then she'd broken the edict. Not only that but Anhelette had known what she was talking about. The colonel was one of the few men, the few people that knew of the extent of the edict. Knew the reason for it.

And here was this slip of a girl who couldn't be older than fourteen or fifteen…

Sometimes she actually wished that they used standard solarian years. It added a granularity to the calculations of age missing for anyone using this planet's own orbit time.

The matron shook her head, as once again she realized she was heading into proscribed waters, but she couldn't help it. She was first, and foremost, a scientist. She quantified, catalogued, parsed and probed. She wanted to push forward the realm of human understanding, but the research was beyond the bounds of the edict. The tools to even attempt the research were beyond the bounds of the edict.

To pass the time as they went, the matron calculated the girls age in solarian years. Twenty years old, most likely.

She smiled ruefully with the thoughts of how old twenty seemed to her. A year as short as old earth used to have was like…stopping the year at September.

She snorted at the thought.

"Something humorous, Matron?"

"A lot is, Colonel. And I've told you in the past to call me Alecia."

"That would be lese majeste, Matron. I might as well ask you to call me Kei."

"Ok, Kei. If that's what it takes." The matron blushed like a girl at how forward she'd just been, and hoped that it would work out as she hoped.

"Women. There's a reason I have never married. I don't understand you at all. Give me a field of battle any day. Not only is it understandable, but it's also less dangerous."

The matron's musical laughter rang through the halls, and Anhelette's shoulders hunched. The girl must think herself truly in trouble for laughter to cause her anxiety.

"Kei, I find that the title Matron makes me feel old and grim. Nothing like the beauty I was acclaimed with in my youth."

"Alecia, you will always be a beauty."

Again, the matron blushed. She was saved from any further embarrassing revelations by the fact that they'd arrived at their destination.

"Child, please enter the room on your left," the matron said, raising her voice so that Anhelette would be able to hear her.

The room was better appointed than the cell they'd left, but the heavy lock on the outside of the door suggested that this was not a room you wanted to have to stay in very long. As soon as the three of them entered the room, Anhelette turned and asked, "did I do something wrong? It was my impression that I was there to make a scientific observation."

"Child, where have you heard of breech loading a cannon?"

Anhelette's expression betrayed the shock at not only what the question was, but what it implied.

Mar watched as Anhelette left the room with more than a twinge of regret. The woman was more than beautiful to the young lieutenant, and she likely didn't even know that the lieutenant even existed.

"They're going to kill us all, you know. All of us."

Mar looked over at the former lord and sneered. "You are the most graven coward I have ever met. It is not a question of whether or not they'll win, but of how we carry ourselves until then."

"You're a fool, Mar, a fool!"

"And you are a cuckold or a pimp, I haven't decided yet which. You aren't man enough to keep your wife in line, or you whore out your wife to gain influence and favor. Which is it lord Amherst."

His face turned a shade of purple that Mar had never thought she would see on a human being. His mouth opened and closed, but no sound escaped. Mar'd had enough 'lord baiting' for the moment, and simply left and locked the door behind her.

"Sergeant, I'd like you to make sure no one enters this room. No one. If he kills himself, he kills himself. Only the colonel or myself can change this, is that clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good."

Mar left the unknown sergeant behind her as she went in search of more familiar faces. She'd never been a big drinker in the past, but for the first time she had a feeling that it would be welcome to deaden her senses.

The matron's revelation that she already knew Mar's secret was more than enough to make her doubt everything. Wondering who else was 'in the know' threatened to bury her in despair. Was she only fooling herself that her men accepted her?

"Sikes," she called out as soon as she left the Palace of Justice. He was sitting there with a couple of the men, patiently waiting for her to appear.

"Yes, sir?"

"I want to get drunk."

Sikes and the other men laughed, thinking it was a joke, but when Mar failed to join in, he sobered his expression.

"Sir, I can help you do that, but is it really something you want to do?" There was concern in his voice that made Mar even more certain that this was something she wanted to do. He thought she was weak. He thought that she was a woman. She was sure of it. She'd have to prove to all of them that this wasn't the case.

Seeing her determined look, and knowing it from times when she'd laid into deserving wretches, he pulled her aside to talk to her out of earshot of the men.

"Sir, I don't know what crawled up your ass and died, but I sure as hell don't want to let you go out and get smashed for the hell of it. You don't drink. The men all know this and respect you for it. You've more balls than any of them to stick to your guns. Don't go throwing that away now."

"Sir…balls…" Mar laughed bitterly. "Don't you really mean, 'ma'am?'"

"Don't listen to what that lick-spittle has to say, Sir. We know you're a man. Sure, you're a bit slight, but then so if Collins."

It occurred to Mar that Sikes really had no idea what she was talking about. He thought that she was upset by something that Ale Amherst had said to her. She began laughing, and realized that she wouldn't be able to stop. There was a hysterical air to it. The other men were looking at her a bit worriedly, so Sikes waved them off and dragged her back into the building. It wouldn't do to have witnesses to what he was going to do next.

As soon as they found an empty room, he dragged her in and locked the door behind them. Then he slapped her as hard as he could.

"Sir, this is unbecoming. I don't care what stresses…"

Mar no longer cared about any of it. It was all too much, and she was tired of hiding herself. As he was beginning to berate her, Mar just stripped out of her tunic and shirt. Then she removed the bandages that kept everything out of sight.

Sikes couldn't help himself and just stared. A couple of times he began to reach up, as if to assure himself that they were real, and stopped before getting anywhere close.

"Sir, I suggest you put your shirt on before anyone else comes in." Sikes said quietly.

Mar was about to just put on the shirt, without the bandaging, but Sikes stopped her, "Sir, you need to make sure that wound is properly bound. It wouldn't do for everything to break loose, now would it?"

With a bemused smile on her face, Mar quickly redid the bandages and put her uniform back together.

"I assume that you are…the same below?" He asked.

"Yes, Sikes," Mar said in her normal soprano voice, "I am the same below."

"Damn, sir, I never would have realized. I mean, sure you were small, but you kick the ass out of the rest of us in determination. I've seen you fight."

Mar was shocked. This wasn't the response that she expected. Then she got a shrewd look on her face, "what do you want, Sikes? You're not looking for…"

Sikes looked horrified. "No, sir! I'd sooner lie with the colonel, no offense, sir. Besides, I know you'd have my guts for garters if I ever suggested it." Sikes looked at her again, cocking his head to the side as if trying to see something that wasn't there, and shuddered.

"No offense, sir, but I can't really see it. I know, I saw it, but I can't see it, if you know what I mean."

Mar looked a bit confused, and Sikes continued.

"Look, I know you tend to keep to yourself in the barracks, but you are a man as far as anyone has been able to tell. You act like the rest of us, sir. You even laugh at our jokes. The last lady I made the mistake of telling one of your jokes to a girl, well, it didn't go off as well as I'd hoped. You know the one about the vicar's daughter and the highway rogue?"

Mar laughed at the reference.

"Not what I expected, but enjoyable all the same," Mar said, referencing the joke's punch line, and Sikes again began to laugh.

"See, there's no way a respectable woman would ever tell that joke."

Mar gestured at her outfit, and Sikes smirked, "point taken, but you knew what I meant."

"I did, and I thank you for the sentiment."

"That being said, we need to find you a respectable woman of your own, and from what I hear that Anhelette is mighty respectable."

The expression he was using was at odds with the accepted meaning of the words, and Mar was shocked to realize she knew exactly what he meant.

"You'd like to assault her walls with your cannon, would you?" Mar asked.

Sikes just smiled and let her realize the response she'd made to his suggestion. She smirked back at him, but brought the conversation back to her original problem of the idea, "you don't think it strange that a man like me would want to chase after a woman?"

"Only goes to prove that you are man enough, Sir. Man enough for me or any of the men."

Mar smiled and clapped his sergeant on the shoulder. "So, not that this is out of the way, what say we go out and I can watch the rest of you drink like normal."

Sikes just grinned, happy to have his unique officer back. Sure, he was ever more unique than Sikes thought a few minutes ago, but what are a couple of breasts between friends.

"Matron, I heard about it the same place that I heard that a carbon filament immersed in an inert gas and charged with an electric current produces light."

Anhelette was thinking furiously, trying to determine what was going on here. Not being trained as a field agent, she was doing her best to try to minimize the damage she'd already done. If the matron knew what in the world she was talking about…

"Colonel, leave us."

"Matron…"

"Please, Kei. I need to speak to Anhelette alone."

The colonel looked at the two women, and then turned to leave. He stopped as he reached the door. "I'll be right outside, Alecia, if you need me."

The matron began to walk around the younger woman. When she got to the girl's front again, the matron stopped. "How old are you, Anhelette."

"Sixteen, Matron."

"Still so young for so much responsibility. What was your own Matron thinking to initiate one so young?"

"Initiate into what, Matron?"

"Don't play coy with me, girl. While that is the most unique response I've heard before, you obviously know of the edict. Or are you going to try and tell me that you don't know what a 'light bulb' is?"

Anhelette swore. Her worst fears were confirmed, and they'd have to do something she would forever regret. She didn't consider herself one of those types of girls, truth be told she wasn't any type of girl, but the thought of everyone here going up in flames really got to her. She began to cry and just sank down on her knees, her dress spreading out around her.

"Child, it's not so bad. There is no problem that I know."

"Isn't there?" Anhelette asked with venom in her voice. "If you let me out of this room, I have no choice but to have this entire planet bombed back to the stone age. All of you in this city are sure to be a target, and likely every other major city on the planet."

The matron's knees failed her, and she collapsed. Her face completely white. She was focusing on nothing, looking at nothing. Then she turned the weight of her attention on the girl sobbing in the middle of the room.

"But we followed the edict. We follow the edict."

"No choice," Anhelette said to herself, as she began to cry even harder. She knew that there was no hope of Mar accepting her as she truly was, and yet…she'd had hopes. Hopes that would burn her up every time she closed her eyes.

The matron regained her composure enough to rise from the position she'd been sitting in. She walked over to the door and let herself out. Anhelette heard the sound of the lock being thrown.

She ran to the door and pounded on it, "Let me out of here! You don't understand! I must tell them what's going on. They must hear from me or it will be worse for all of you."

Although how exactly it would be worse, Anhelette didn't know. She knew, however, that as soon as she failed to report this evening, the clock would begin to tick down. In a little over eighteen hours, twelve after her next check in point, this city would cease to exist.

Black powder and lace
copyright 2011 Faeriemage
When the entire universe is stacked against you, all you can do is change the game.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: I wrote most of this with an INSANE sinus headache, that and the cracked tooth I have not taken care of in way too long is causing pain as well. Basically, I have my normal aches and pains, in addition to being ill with a nasty virus.

Yes, I am drinking tons of water.

The problem is that I am not 100% sure I am coherent. Please, do NOT bear with me ;) I need to know exactly where things break down, so for once I actually welcome bad press. PMs for this will be preferable, but if you want to let everyone know where I messed up, comments are fine too.

I realize that I am still in the early part of this book, but this is one of the important chapters for understanding things that will be coming later, and if it is unclear it might lead to misunderstandings.

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"Lorentius! There's someone here to see you!" Minerva called out to the empty house. "Lorentius!"

Lorentius was in the basement, as usual. The nature of his work was such that he could not allow others to see. There was so much prejudice about lightning. Sometimes he wondered if the ancients weren't right to revere it's power in the form of a god.

Once again, he sealed the glass ball and turned on the mercury drip. As the air left the sphere, there were momentary flashes of light, and a popping sound. When he was pulling out the air like this, he always worried that something would happen to the carbon filament that was so fragile in its clamps.

To distract himself, he looked around his laboratory. So many things he wished to try out in the open that the college of sciences refused to acknowledge. They had no vision. They thought some of what he was proposing had merit, like the pump he had invented. Such a simple concept to put a screw inside a tube. The simple rotation of the shaft drove the water up the tube. It was simple, and yet no one had ever thought to combine those two concepts. The 'pump' he was using was much the same. Combine simple concepts to come up with something no one else have ever thought of before.

It was the flying machines, and the other, less recognizable, models that they really questioned. He needed to prove that he could achieve a steady light so that they would take him seriously. Slowly the popping became quieter and quieter until the steady flow of mercury out of the drop tube slowed and finally stopped.

Taking a deep breath, he connected the wire to the anode of his battery, mentally praying to Jupiter, even though no one did that any more. Lorentius held his breath as the light began to glow brighter from the filament. It grew brighter. Always before it would grow bright and then suddenly fail. And as soon as it got to the level where he was sure that it would fail…it stabilized and held.

And it continued to hold.

He turned over the glass and watched as the light continued to hold. Just before the last sands of the glass fell the light began to fail.

"No. No no no no. No!" It faded completely. The anger spiked in him, and he was about to yank the bulb from the clamps and hurl it across the room when something occurred to him.

It had faded. There hadn't been the flash the of other experiments. He looked carefully into the bulb and realized the filament was still intact. He opened up the battery and looked at both the anode and cathode. There wasn't any corrosion on either of the leads, but the levels in the cells were low.

He carefully filled them back up, and reconnected the light to the battery.

It light up, much faster than last time, and stayed steady.

"I've done it! Mother, I've done it!"

He ran upstairs and into the group of men waiting with his mother. Minerva looked at the excitement that her son exhibited and shook her head.

"What now, Lorentius?"

"I've made light! Electric light!"

"This again, Lorentius? For how many seconds? I'm sorry gentleman, but as you see my son is not the genius that you take him for. The water screw is the only practical thing he's ever developed."

"Mother! It is still going!"

Her stunned silence set Lorentius to smiling and he ran downstairs into the lab. The light continued to shine.

"Shit, captain. It's a Sprengel pump. Archimedes screw. Ornithopter. This is well beyond a class A infraction, sir. No one ever even classified what this is. He's Leonardo Friggin DaVinci in a toga," one of the men said gesturing toward the drawings and paintings at the back of the room. Most of them containing more sketches of ideas, but one or two were vistas or still-life. There was even a portrait of a woman at the back.

The somber looks of the two man flanking the one that they'd called captain was enough to quell even Lorentius' enthusiasm.

"You're not from the college, are you. The fabric in your robes is…not quite right. Sure the color is accurate as far as I can tell, but it is so…fine."

"Lorentius, you are being given a choice," the man they called Captain said. Only now Lorentius noticed the slight delay from when the man spoke, and the words arrived. The lips didn’t match what they were saying either. "Either you come with us, and we destroy your lab and all of your notes, or we destroy you and your lab."

Minerva's look of shock and fear was crushing. "Go with them, my angel boy. I never realized…just go with them. It is better that you are gone and alive than here and dead."

"But mother?"

"You would never have amounted to anything great here, my angel. I don't understand who this Friggin-DaVinci is, but from their tone he is important. If he can teach you even more, then go. Become who you were meant to be."

Anhelette woke with a start. She hadn't thought of that moment for so long. The portrait of her mother still hung in her cabin on board the ship. That moment when she'd thought that she was truly on the pinnacle of creation. When she had created electric light.

She laughed bitterly to herself. No one remembers the person who rediscovers something. Not even the protectorate. People who they want to make disappear. People who learn too much about the world around them. People who invent.

People who threaten the very existence of mankind in the universe.

Roma had been so far down on their priority list as a possible infraction planet that it had been on a thousand year schedule. Visits once every thousand years.

Anhelette shuddered to think of what would have happened to all of their plans had they been even six months, let alone a year, later.

One man had bridged centuries of innovation. Anhelette had bridged centuries of innovation. She had come so close to condemning her entire city to death.

"Well, Lorentius, it seems you've really stepped in it this time."

Anhelette put her hands to the back of her dress, grabbing onto the ties of her corset. It was too late already for her to complete her…no his mission. Pretending to be a woman had no more point.

But even as he was ready to throw it all away, the words of his mother came back to him, "Become who you were meant to be."

His mother had been dead for seven hundred years, but still her words had power over him.

"Who am I supposed to be, Mother? This? Is this what you saw for your angel? Dressed as a woman and waiting to die on a planet so far gone that we have to destroy it?" Anhelette screamed at the ceiling. She collapsed again crying. She didn't care about the planet, but Mar…she cared about him. She would do anything to be with him, and if that meant continuing with the charade, then so be it.

It also meant that she had to get out of here and report back in to the Captain before things advanced beyond the point of no return.

She got up and applied her scientists mind to getting out of this room. She saw so many useful items, all of which would have taken time…

If she had her tools, she could get out in no time. She only needed to get out to get her tools. Damn the captain and his rules. Next time she was going to strap her tool to her leg under her dress, and propriety and rules be damned.

Mar didn't really enjoy watching other people drink. Sure, she'd said that she was fine with it, but that had been before they had begun drinking. She stayed with them for a while, and then, with a wink from Sikes, she said she was off to find more interesting company.

Yes, she was thinking about Anhelette. That seemed to be about all she did these days. They were threatened with war, one of the lords had become a traitor, her entire world was about to fall apart, and all she could think about was that beautiful, strange, wonderful girl.

One evening alone that they'd spent time together and she was completely enamored with the idea of spending more time. She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she almost missed the sergeant standing at a door he had no business guarding.

"Sergeant, what's going on here?"

"Sir, I have orders."

"What exactly are your orders, Sergeant?"

"That I am to keep Miss Anhelette in here and not allow anyone to enter."

The sergeant took an involuntary step backwards from the Mar. Her prowess with a sword was almost legendary among the other musketeers, of which the sergeant was one. That Mar hadn't even laid a hand on her hilt didn't matter to the sergeant. The look in her eye suggested that she had already run him through in her mind.

"Let me in, Sergeant," Mar said in a voice cold as steel.

"But sir…"

Mar softened her tone, "I never told you to release your prisoner. You have done your duty to the best of your ability. Allow me to enter and I will take the blame for your lapse."

The sergeant sighed, and then smiled at the young officer, "begging your pardon, sir, but I never liked taking orders from a woman. That matron, though…"

Mar gave a rueful little smile, "I understand completely, Sergeant."

Mar was still smiling when Anhelette launched herself at Mar. Noticing her body language, Mar took a step to the side, tripping Anhelette and then offered her a hand.

"Anhelette," Mar said with a smile, "Even taking me hostage, should you be able to do it, isn't going to get you out of here."

Anhelette looked up at Mar, and then at her hand, and glowered. "I need to get out of here, Mar. We're all in danger the longer I stay in here."

"What are you talking about? Are you working with Genin? Is that why…"

"No, I'm working with…some people who are even more powerful. I can't explain it to you."

Mar's expression darkened. She felt her heart being ripped out, but steeled herself against the emotion. She wouldn't cry. That would be unbecoming of the role she played. "What did you say to the Matron that led to you being held here?"

"I told her that this world has to be destroyed." Anhelette wasn't under the same limitations that Mar was. She began to cry. "We can't have any radiating emissions coming from this planet. If they were to pick up on them…the entire human race would be lost."

"Radiating…you mean radio waves, television, that sort of thing? Any electromagnetic radiation really?"

Anhelette looked up at Mar as if she'd suddenly sprouted a second head.

"My mother was terrible at keeping secrets, and when the previous Matron told my mother about the edict, she shared it with me. I was supposed to follow in her footsteps after all."

"But you're a man! Men do not dabble in science."

"I'm a woman, Anhelette. I know. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lead you on…"

Anhelette rose to her feet as Mar was talking and kissed her.

"Wa…" Mar was stunned and off balance.

"I was so worried that I was falling for a man, Mar. It was just you all along. So, back to the matter at hand, what is this edict?"

Mar shook herself, but couldn't get rid of her grin. "It is all of the proscribed areas of research."

"Proscribed…"

"Yes, like electricity, steam power, pneumatics. I thought you'd know all of that."

Suddenly, the fact that they'd achieved iron, and then steel, when so many others weren't even able to rediscover iron, became clear. Somehow they knew about the threat to all sentient life in the galaxy. Somehow they knew about the Protectorate, and its role in safeguarding human life. Somehow they knew technology that was proscribed.

But iron wasn't specifically proscribed. It never had been. The Protectorate had just put the colonists down without the knowledge of it as a deterrent to future generations' progress.

The problem with iron, was it began to allow the development of other technologies. Other areas of research. It allowed for labor saving devices that then allowed for more leisure. More people working not to stay alive but to move the progress of human understanding forward.

The existence of Latin on a planet that didn't speak Latin became clear as well. They'd adopted the language as their scientific code because of all the Latin words that were already a part of science. Part of the science of Earth.

"Mar, we're in terrible danger. We have to get out of here."

"It's going to take a bit before…"

"No, we have to get out of here now. I need to talk to my captain. I have to tell him what's going on here."

"Your…captain?"

"Corporal Lorentius Arrelius, sir," Anhelette said with a strange salute, "Protectorate Space Force."

"They allow women in this…military?"

"Yes, but I only look like a woman. Sir, we really must move. They have enough power to be able to destroy this entire planet. And if I don't report in, that is the most likely outcome."

"Space…how are you able to communicate with something orbiting the planet without the use of electromagnetic radiation?"

"I'm not, but using a communications laser we minimize the escaping radiation."

"Laser?"

"Apparently your information only includes the basics of the proscriptions. Don't worry about it. That's our job, sir."

"Well, corporal, let's see if we can get you out of here." Mar turned toward the door, but stopped short.

"Is there something wrong, sir?"

"No corporal, I just wanted to give you this before we left," and Mar kissed her deeply for a moment before drawing back. "I like the way you look." Mar said.

Anhelette blushed and mar chuckled.

"Sergeant, there's something wrong with the prisoner. Sergeant!"

As soon as the door opened Mar grabbed the front of the sergeant's tunic and pulled him into the room. Anhelette contributed by smashing his head with a heavy bookend on the table, and the sergeant collapsed to the floor.

Mar reached his hand out to Anhelette and she took it. The two of them ran out of the Palace heading for her rooms and an appointment with destiny.

"Captain, we have a call coming in from Corporal Lorentius."

Captain Manheim looked up from the report he was reading. "Direct it to the chamber, Collins."

"Aye, sir."

Manheim stood and walked to the booth at the back of the room. It was dark for a moment and then he was in the corporal's room down on the planet.

"Corporal, you're early."

"Sorry, sir, it can't be helped. We have a problem."

"A serious one," Mar said speaking up.

"Damn it corporal…"

"Hear her out, Captain."

"Her?"

"Yes, captain," Mar said shifting her voice to her soprano ranges. "Apparently you are unaware that we are aware of you and the Protectorate. We are self policing."

"What?" The captain looked at the man…woman…officer in shock.

"All members of the scientific community are either completely in the dark, which is most of them, or they have been informed of the edict against electromagnetic radiation. The Matron is the person who enforces our compliance.

"My own mother was killed by the Matron to protect us when my mother insisted on continuing her development of steam power."

The captain looked shocked. Anhelette wasn't too far behind. What they'd talked about on the way to her rooms hadn't even touched any of this.

"When she discovered, too late to save my mother, that it was my father who had been pursuing the knowledge…apparently she was part of the reason I was able to secure my commission. Or at least I think she might have been."

Anhelette put a comforting hand on Mar's shoulder, and he covered her hand with his own…her hand covered his hand…this was driving the captain nuts keeping track of who was actually which gender.

"Captain, we are not breaking the proscriptions, and we will be able to keep ourselves in check."

The captain was about to speak, when Anhelette interrupted him, "there is another problem. Genin, the other nation we were considering infiltrating, has breech loading cannon."

"What!" The captain was about to lose it right there. The veins were sticking out on his forehead, and his skin began to turn red with his rage.

"Sir," began Mar, "we believe that we have a solution to this. It isn't enough that we police our own city. We need to police our own world. We didn't understand the full reason for the proscriptions, as some of the knowledge has been lost in the last few millennia since we colonized this world.

"The plan isn't working, sir. At the rate that humanity reproduces, we should have reached the numbers needed centuries ago. It was a plan created in fear, not one created in wisdom."

"It is the plan."

"There are one billion people on this planet, captain," Anhelette said, "and we were about to kill most of them. Consider that, sir."

Captain Manheim was about to speak, and then he slammed his mouth shut. How was a ship that only operated for six months every century or so supposed to come to any real understanding of these planets it was sent to observe.

And in the two millennia that he'd been captain of the vessel since the previous captain had retired he'd been responsible for destroying five planets much like this one. Five planets that were finally up to the point where they were stable and ready to really start producing the soldiers and scientists that humanity would need to survive the inevitable conflict.

As he considered that it was time for a change, he felt the death of every planet, both the ones he'd ordered destroyed while captain, as well as the ones he'd watched destroyed while serving aboard this ship of the damned.