The sky ballet continued with warships moving in precise formation, carefully choreographed to look like an aerodynamic mating dance, leaving trails of smoke that etched a web across the sky. Finally, as a grand finale to the display, they dumped gouts of multicolored smoke from their exhaust tubes, tracing brilliant lines in the air overhead.

Jora’h applauded along with the spectators, cheering and shouting as the streamers rejoined their escorts, which then moved back toward their parent warliner. Within a few moments, a small transport pod detached itself from the lead warliner, looking like nothing more than a speck when compared to the gigantic battleship. The transport pod landed in front of the viewing stand and Jora’h’s son, Septar Zan’nh, emerged wearing a formal Solar Navy uniform. He marched up, proud and competent before his Adar and his father.

Jora’h’s heart swelled with love. “You have done extremely well, my son,” he said, though it was not part of the ceremony. Kori’nh stepped back, waiting for the Prime Designate to finish. After a brief pause, Jora’h looked self-consciously at the Adar. “That was all.”

Kori’nh moved forward, holding up a sparkling new rank insignia. “Septar Zan’nh, until today you have had command of seven ships and you have proven yourself to be a quickwitted and brilliant tactician. It is my great pleasure to promote you to the rank of Qul. Henceforth, you will be in charge of a full maniple. You will guide forty-nine ships, seven complete septas. Do you accept this new responsibility?”

“With pleasure, Adar Kori’nh.” The young man could not hide his grin; then he looked up at Jora’h. “With pleasure, Father.”

Jora’h took the badge of rank from the Adar’s hands and pinned it on his son’s collar himself. “I have always known you would serve the Ildiran Empire well. You have made me very glad.”

Jora’h’s tiny golden braids of hair crackled and moved, living threads of static electricity around his head. Even though Zan’nh’s mixed heritage prevented him from being the next Prime Designate, Jora’h knew the young man had a great future ahead of him. Beaming, he stepped away before he could embarrass Zan’nh, though he could barely control his overwhelming pride in his firstborn son.

54: JESS TAMBLYN

54JESS TAMBLYN

Already broken-hearted after the funeral, Jess knelt beside his old father, who lay gray and frail, as if his lifeline had been frayed to a single thread. He squeezed the old man’s hand, attempting to impart all of his strength.

“He’s just grief-struck,” Jess whispered to Cesca. “He’ll never admit it to himself, and he can’t forgive his own stubbornness, either. He drove his son away and never saw him again because of his pride. Now he’s punishing himself even further.”