Firstborn

merchant ship by force, you know,” Kern said. “As if he were a pirate. I remember the High Emperor’s fury. He ordered a half-dozen longships to hunt your brother down. But Varion’s ruse wouldn’t have worked otherwise. Seapress—like most of the rebel factions—had spies in the upper ranks of the Fleet. They had to believe that Varion was going rogue. That was why he seized command so rashly and why he captured a merchant vessel, then towed it to Seapress as a ‘gift.’
    “Nobody on his ship resisted him. That is your brother’s most impressive attribute, Dennison. He’s not just a tactical master. He’s also an amazing leader. And an amazing liar.”
    The image of the merchant ship rocked suddenly, its engines blasting with unexpected strength. It gained momentum as the Seapress capital ships began to turn, their commanders confused, their own engines firing belatedly. The merchant vessel rammed the Seapress flagship, then both ships twisted and rammed into a second carrier vessel.
    “He’s also void-cursed lucky,” Kern noted.
    Dennison nodded as Varion’s line burst with motion, fighters streaking away from his flagship, his smaller gunboats moving to enfilade the three remaining Seapress command ships.
    Kern held up a hand, and the ships froze. He turned toward Dennison. “All right,” he said. “Your turn.”
    Dennison frowned. “You want me to take command?”
    Kern nodded, leaving the hologram and typing a few orders into the control panel. “Let’s see what you can do.”
    Dennison raised an eyebrow. “What will that prove?”
    “Humor me,” Kern said.
    The simulation began again. The massive Seapress command ship rolled weakly to the side, the hole in its side belching flames as oxygen escaped into the void. Seapress should have blown Varion from the sky the moment he entered their space. An Imperial Longship, with a commander fresh from the Academy, committing treason? They should have seen through the ploy. But they hadn’t. Somehow, Varion had convinced them.
    Dennison shot a look to where Kern watched from the shadows. What did he see? A young Varion? Dennison and his brother were said to be very similar in appearance. The biggest difference was their hair: Dennison’s was black, but Varion’s had started turning a silvery gray on his twenty-second birthday. By twenty-five, he had already acquired the nickname “Silvermane.”
    “Launch the fighters in three formations,” Dennison said, turning back to the hologram. “Order the
Darkstring
to mark 471 and tell it to hold position, firing on any ships that try to escape those wounded flagships. I want the
Fanell
to take up position to my lower port flank, then provide cover if any fighters get too close.”
    The battle began, and Dennison fought. As always, he tried. He tried hard. The insubordination and cynicism disappeared whenever he entered a battle hologram. Standing inside the fray, ships swarming around, above, and below him, he abandoned his habitual pessimism and really tried.
    And he lost horribly. The Seapress ships cut down his fighters when Dennison failed to give them proper covering fire. He lost the
Darkstring
when the mortally damaged Seapress flagship rolled too close, then self-destructed. When he tried to retreat, enemy missiles tore out the back of his command ship, and left him to suffocate as life support fizzled. The hologram switched off.
    Dennison sighed, turning back toward Kern.
    “I’ve seen worse,” Kern finally said.
    “Oh?” Dennison said. “You’ve seen recordings of my Academy fights?”
    Kern didn’t respond. He stood, tapping his chin in thought. “You asked what you are doing here,” he finally said. “Since you’re not going to be given a command.”
    Dennison nodded.
    “The High Emperor wants me to turn you into a leader,” Kern explained. “But I don’t intend to throw away any men on you. Therefore, I’ve found an instructor to train you.”
    “Who?”
    “Your brother,” Kern said. “Get used to this room, Dennison. You’re going to be spending a lot of time here. I want you to go through every one of Varion’s battles, studying his methods and his strategies. I want you to read every major profile written on him. You will become the Empire’s foremost expert on Varion Crestmar—you will memorize and you will practice until you can fight this battle, and any other, just as he would.”
    “You’re kidding,” Dennison said flatly.
    “You should get