Firstborn

admiral suddenly asked.
    Dennison walked forward. “Yes, sir,” he said, realizing with surprise that he did. “It’s the battle of Seapress.”
    Kern nodded, face lit from below, still watching the flitting ships. “Your brother’s first battle,” he said quietly. “The beginning of the Reunification War.” He watched for a moment longer, then waved his hand, freezing ships in the air. Finally, he turned eyes on Dennison, who gave a perfunctory salute—really more a wave of the hand. Might as well establish what he was like from the beginning.
    Kern didn’t frown at the sloppy greeting. He folded his arms, regarding Dennison with a curious look. “Dennison Crestmar. I hear you have something of a smart mouth.”
    “It’s the only part of me blessed with such virtue, I’m afraid.”
    Kern actually smiled—an expression rarely seen on a High Officer’s lips. “I suspect that was why your father sent you to me.”
    “He has great respect for you, sir,” Dennison noted.
    Kern snorted. “He can’t stand me. He thinks I’m undignified.”
    Dennison raised an eyebrow. When Kern said nothing more, he continued. “I feel that I must warn you, sir, that I am poorly suited to this commission. I doubt that I will fulfill your expectations of a squadron leader.”
    “Oh, I don’t intend to put you in charge of any ships,” Kern said, laughing. “Forgive me, but I’ve seen your records. The only question is whether you’re a worse strategist or tactician.”
    Dennison sighed in relief. “Then what are you going to do with me?”
    Kern waved him forward. “Come,” he said, motioning with his other hand and restarting the hologram.
    Dennison stepped into the hologram. He’d seen the battle before—one couldn’t graduate from the Academy without taking several courses on the mighty Varion Crestmar. Varion’s ships were outlined in white. He had two command vessels—one a simple merchant ship, the other his imperial longship—and he controlled only four dozen fighters. Fewer ships, even, than Dennison had been given to waste fighting pirates.
    “Tell me about him,” Kern requested, watching Varion’s longship as it approached the battle.
    Dennison raised an eyebrow. “Varion? He’s more than twenty years older than I. I’ve never even met him.”
    “I’m not a parlor visitor, asking about your family, Dennison. I’m your commander. Tell me about Varion the warrior.”
    Dennison hesitated. Varion’s longship, the famous
Voidhawk
, slid forward. Varion’s forces were laughably small compared to those of his enemy—the rogue planet of Seapress had boasted a fleet of five massive battleships and nearly a hundred fighters. Two decades ago, at the nadir of imperial power, such a fleet had been impressive indeed.
    The Seapress ships, however, didn’t form up to attack Varion. They simply waited.
    “Varion is . . .” Dennison said quietly. “Varion is perfect.”
    Kern raised an eyebrow. “In what way?”
    “He has never lost,” Dennison said. “He was given his first command the very day he left the Academy. Within five years, he had risen to command the entire Imperial Fleet, and was charged with regaining control of the Distant Sectors. He’s fought that war his whole life, and he’s never suffered a single failure. Hundreds of battles, and he’s never lost once.”
    “Perfect?” Kern asked.
    “Perfect.” Dennison said.
    Kern nodded, then turned back to the battlefield. The blockish merchant ship had pulled ahead of Varion’s flagship, and was ponderously making its way toward the Seapress array.
    “It all started here,” Kern said.
    As the first in his class in the Academy, Varion had been offered positions aboard all of the grandest fleet flagships. He had turned them all down, accepting a lesser post aboard a ship commanded by a regular officer—one who wasn’t noble. Article 117 of the Fleet Code allowed a High Officer to use his rank as a nobleman—rather than his military rank—to take command of any ships where a low officer was in charge.
    It was an article rarely invoked, for if the nobleman fared badly, the emperor was permitted—even expected—to have the man executed.
    Varion had used Article 117, taking command of the
Voidhawk
and its small fleet, the common captain becoming his XO. Varion’s first action had been to ignore their standing orders, striking out instead toward the rebellious colonies on the Western Reaches.
    “He actually took the