Chapter 31

The trip home felt just about as long as the trip out—that is to say: way too long. While there was none of the 'are-we-there-yet?' anticipation of the outbound journey, there was also much less to keep people busy. The whole regiment could now fit into a single assault transport, with room to spare. All of the cryo-pods—which outnumbered those present for duty by a considerable margin—were mercifully aboard a different ship. All three medical companies were also on the transport, but since Anny now rated a company commander's berth, she didn't share a compartment with Chris Tropio this time—which saddened her.

But Jer and Alby and Patric were on the same ship with her and that was wonderful. There wasn't much duty and the powers that be had made sure that there was a good supply of alcohol—for all ranks—and as many other diversions as could safely be provided. Several stops were made for shore leave and someone had made sure that each of them had some really good facilities. It was almost like some lengthy pleasure cruise. Almost. Anny made sure that Chris Tropio was included in their activities and it seemed like she and her vivandieres were bouncing back from the horrors they'd witnessed. They did have fun, but Anny noticed that there was a certain standoffishness among all the parties. Like they were afraid to get too close to anyone again. She and Jer had no such problem, although they were careful to wait for the shore leaves before they did anything more than a quick kiss or hug.

They did hold formations and a few drills just to remind everyone that they were still soldiers. Major Berg had the good sense not to overdo things or insist on iron discipline. In fact, they didn't see much of the Major. It was clear that he was well aware that he was just a temporary fill-in and for him to try and come across as The Old Man was a recipe for disaster. Anny followed the same tack as far as discipline was concerned. They'd have a morning roll-call and weekly inspections and she insisted that the men spend at least two hours a day in physical training, but other than that, she left them alone under the watchful eye of First Sergeant Nikolaidis.

There were some bad times. Men would spend too much time thinking or drinking and would break down for a few minutes or a few hours. But their 'mates, would take care of them and the moments passed. Most of the time. A few just couldn't cope with it and had to be sent away for treatment. But only a few. Anny, herself, had nightmares and she knew that Jer and some of her other friends did, too. But it was nothing she couldn't deal with—at least so far.

More often, they were celebrating the return of a comrade. There was a hospital ship accompanying the convoy with the wounded aboard and there were recovered men returning to the ranks almost every day. Each one was welcomed back enthusiastically. Ensign Milroy returned and she made him her exec. Even with the returned people, C Company was little more than a platoon in strength.

Anny wrote a few letters a day. It was hard, and the letter she wrote to Sara Fetherbay and her daughter was the hardest of all. She could only imagine what they were going through. They had their own devastating loss and yet they'd have to be strong, publically. For the other families. For the Regiment.

But there were letters coming in, too. Fast couriers had sprinted ahead of the convoy and reached Barrayar with the news and returned with replies. Anny received a letter from Lady Vorkosigan. In it, she expressed her sadness at the terrible losses that the Regiment had suffered and she assured Anny that she would be assisting the women's groups at Fort Vorolson to help the families deal with the tragedy. Sadly, a few days later another courier brought the rather shocking news that the legendary Count Aral Vorkosigan had died and Ekaterin was now a countess. Anny wasn't sure she would have time to help out at Vorolson after all. But then, in some cosmic foul-up of the message service, she received a letter from Countess Cordelia Vorkosigan and Count Aral Vorkosigan sent only a few days before the Count's death, expressing their sadness and pride in what had taken place on Novo Paveo. Anny had already sent a message of condolence to the Countess, so she did not reply to this one.

She tried for two weeks to compose some sort of story to send to Corporal Kane for the Gazette, but eventually gave up in defeat. They would all have the news by now and anything she wrote seemed totally inadequate. So she just sent a summary to Kane and trusted that he could make something coherent and appropriate out of it. He did, in fact, compose a beautiful piece and when she got a copy, it left her in tears.

The weeks turned to months and eventually the convoy passed through Sergyar, Komarr and made the last few jumps into Barrayar space. The men gathered eagerly around the viewports to get a glimpse of home. Anny wasn't nearly so eager. Oh, she was glad to be back, but the thought of what she was coming back to was bothering her more day by day. It was inevitable that she was going to be coming face to face with the widows and children of the men who had been lost. There would be memorial services and formations and there would be no avoiding it. She remembered the service for Zak Karal back at Silvy Vale and the thought of that multiplied dozens of times set her trembling. But she had to attend. She owed it to the families; she owed it to the new members of the White Battalion. Jer tried to comfort her and that helped immensely. But he was dealing with his own ghosts, too.

They finally made orbit and prepared to land. By this time Hans Bjorlin was definitely her permanent dog-robber and he was helping her pack up her kit. She was still missing a lot of stuff; her dress red-and-blues, her sword, the decorations and some of the insignia for her dress greens, and a lot of personal items. "We'll get you all fixed up once we're dirtside," promised Bjorlin. With all the back pay waiting for her, she had more money than she'd ever had in her life—not counting that embarrassing credit chit she'd gotten from Lord Mark. And for the last four months the pay had been at the grade of Captain—which was significantly more than what a lieutenant got. She needed to make sure she didn't get careless; she'd be back at a lieutenant's pay soon enough.

Her company boarded a shuttle—one was enough for all of them—and started down. It was spring on north continent and the greens and browns of Barrayar welcomed them back. It wasn't as lush as Novo Paveo, but it was home.

They were home.

[Scene Break]

"Miles? Are you busy, dear?"

Count Miles Vorkosigan looked up from his comconsole and smiled when he saw his wife standing in the doorway of his study. "You don't need to tip-toe around me anymore, love. It's been three months and I'm fine."

"I haven't been tip-toeing."

"Yes you have. Everyone has. From you to the kids to the armsmen, to Ma Kosti, everyone has been acting like I'm an antique vase teetering on the edge of a shelf, just ready to fall and smash to pieces. I'm fine."

"Of course you are."

"It's not like I'm the first person to ever lose a parent. It happens to everyone sooner or later—assuming they live that long."

Ekaterin walked over to him and took his hand. "Very well then, no more tip-toeing. I see that both our schedules are relatively open for the next few weeks and I want to invite Anny to come stay for a while."

A chill went through Miles and his smile faltered. "Maybe some tip-toeing is still in order."

"Miles, we have to invite her. She's just gotten back from almost two years off-planet! And I want to see her and so does Helen."

"I know, I know, I just… I'm not sure I can face her."

"And why is that?" Her tone of voice was the old 'I-know-perfectly-well-why-but-I'm-going-to-make-you-say-it-out-loud' tone that she sometimes used with the kids—and sometimes with him.

"I was the one who got her sent out there. It was my idea to send her regiment to Novo Paveo. I thought I was doing it to avoid any trouble back here. And instead… instead I sent her into that meat-grinder!"

"You couldn't have known."

"No, but that doesn't change the fact that because of me she lost her arm and two-thirds of her troops. I wouldn't blame her if she turned an invitation down flat!"

"Well, if she does, then you won't have to face her. But I doubt she will do any such thing. She's not like that, and you know it."

"No, of course not. She'd come even if she hates me now."

"I seriously doubt she does. Now, I'll send out the invitation right away. And I want to have a welcome home dinner. Do you think I should invite Gregor and Laisa?"

"Oh God… I don't know."

"What's the problem?"

"Well, I think Gregor feels worse about this whole thing than I do. Not just for Anny, but for everybody who lost someone."

"He did make a huge contribution to the 61st's regimental fund—anonymously, of course."

"Yes, doesn't surprise me. He was agonizing over this whole venture before we even sent them off. He was hoping—praying—that we could pull this off with minimal losses. None of us were expecting what happened."

"I doubt she blames him any more than she blames you."

"No, well, go ahead and invite them. They can always beg off if Gregor can't bear it."

"How likely is that? Eventually he will have to face her, won't he? I mean surely she's going to be awarded some medal or other for what she did." Yes, the story of the 61st's gallant charge was all over the news and Anny's role in it figured prominently.

"Maybe. The whole issue of medals and awards is a hot topic right now."

"What do you mean? She certainly deserves a medal!"

"Yes, she does. And so do all the rest. Every man-jack of them. Singling out certain ones for special treatment is going to look a trifle… unfair."

"I thought that unfair was the way things were done in the military."

"True. But we're trying to improve things. Just like you are with the families. But don't worry, she will be acknowledged and rewarded. There was talk of giving her the Vorbarra Cross, but I think the consensus is that all the VCs given out will be posthumous."

"Oh, well that's lovely!" huffed Ekaterin. "What good does it do a dead man?"

"More than you'd think. The VC comes with an automatic pension and educational benefits for the survivors. Could help out some of the families quite a lot."

"Oh, I see. That's different. Hopefully they'll give one to all the dead."

Miles grimaced. "Doesn't work that way. But I understand about a dozen will be awarded. It's all being reviewed now."

"Well, I shall leave that to others. In the meantime I'll get the invitations sent out. Who else do you think I should invite to the dinner? Jer and her friends Alby and Patric I was already going to invite to come and stay for a while. My aunt and uncle, Ivan, Tej, Alys and Simon, and the Koudelkas. Anyone else in particular?"

"Hmmm, let me think…"

[Scene Break]

Anny looked at the huge old pile of stone that was Vorkosigan House and sighed. There was a part of her that considered this place home more than anywhere else. She'd told herself dozens of times not to think that way, but she couldn't help it. In any case, it was very good to be here again.

They had landed at Fort Vorolson a week ago and been immediately told to go on leave for a month. This had been partly out of consideration for the troops and partly because the higher-ups were still figuring out exactly how the regiment was going to be rebuilt. So the memorial services that Anny had dreaded had all been put on hold. A month with nothing to do. Well, she and Jer had found something to do immediately. And then Alby had invited them to his house. Patric had headed back to South Continent. The situation at Alby's house had been a little awkward. He hadn't been home since his father died and he was now master of the household. His mother had been difficult and his sister had clearly been taking charge of things and wasn't inclined to defer to Alby—a brother less than half her age. After a few days she and Jer were thinking about leaving. Then the invitation from the Vorkosigans had arrived and they all, even Alby, were quick to accept. Patric, tied up with family down south, had regretfully declined.

The ImpSec guard at the gate started to scan them through, but stopped them when his scanner made a loud beep. "Uh, Captain?" he said, "Are you carrying any weapons? Unusual electronic devices?"

"What? You mean this?" replied Anny holding out her left arm. The man blinked, ran a hand scanner over it and then frowned.

"Artificial?"

"Yes."

"Oh. Uh, I'm going to have to call this in to headquarters. You'll have to wait a moment."

Alby snorted. "Corporal, you know who this is, don't you? And how she got that?" To Anny's horror, there were stories about her all over the place and it was highly unlikely that the ImpSec corporal didn't know.

"Sorry, sir. Regulations." He ducked back into his guard shack and activated his communicator.

"ImpSec," grumbled Alby. "I had my fill of 'em on Novo Paveo."

"I guess the security here is even tighter now that he's a count," said Jer.

They had only been waiting a few seconds when they saw the front door of Vorkosigan House open and a small figure, who Anny immediately recognized as Helen Vorkosigan, came pelting down the steps shrieking at the top of her lungs. My God, look how big she is! She was followed at a much more sedate pace by the Count and Countess and several armsmen. Helen reached the gate and glared at the ImpSec corporal. "Leo! You open this gate at once!" she commanded. "These are my friends!"

The poor man looked at the girl, back at his com panel, and then over to the approaching Count. Vorkosigan gave a small wave of his hand as he limped along, leaning on a cane. The corporal nodded and made a bow to Helen. "At once m'lady!" He opened the gate and they passed through. Helen immediately leaped into Anny's arms. She was big and heavy.

"Anny! You're home!"

"Yes, I am." Yeah, I guess I am, aren't I?

The others came up and she shook Vorkosigan's hand and got a hug from the Countess. Vorkosigan looked at the guard. "What was the problem, Corporal? I told you they were coming and should be passed through."

"Uh, well, my lord," gobbled the man. "The Captain's… uh…"

"His sensors didn't like my arm, my lord," explained Anny.

"Ah!" said Vorkosigan, his eyebrows shooting up in enlightenment. "I should have warned you about that, Corporal. My error."

"What's the matter with your arm?" asked Helen, looking at her curiously. Anny's eyes went to her parents. She didn't know? What did they want her to tell Helen? After a moment of silence, Ekaterin stepped forward.

"Anny got hurt pretty badly while she was away, Helen. She lost her arm."

"Lost it! How could you lose your arm? Which one?"

"My left one, Helen," said Anny. It was the one holding her up and she looked down at it suspiciously. "I've got an artificial one until they grow me a new one."

"Can I see?" A small nod from Ekaterin and Anny let Helen down and pulled up her sleeve a bit and showed Helen. The child looked it over. "It looks weird," she declared.

"Well, it's not the best match for me. When they grow the new one it will look exactly right."

"When will you get the new one?"

"It takes a while to grow one and they just started. So about four months."

"Why didn't Corporal Leo like this one?"

"It's got a lot of electronic parts inside. He has to be careful about the sort of things he lets inside."

"'Cause Da is a count now?"

"Partly," said Vorkosigan. "But come on, we don't need to be all standing here. Come in! Come in!" Despite their protests, the armsmen collected their luggage and carried it in ahead of them. The rest of the party, matching their pace to Vorkosigan's, followed more slowly.

"How did you lose your arm?" persisted Helen.

Anny looked to Ekaterin again. The woman didn't look happy, but she nodded again. "I was in a battle, Helen. The enemy shot it off."

"Really?" The girl's eyes were wide as saucers. "Wait 'til I tell Sasha!"

"Soldiering's a dangerous job, Dearheart," said Vorkosigan.

Helen turned to Jer and Alby. "Were you in the battle?" Jer nodded, but Alby stiffened and said nothing. "Did you lose anything?"

"Just my mind," snorted Alby.

"No," said Jer. "I was lucky."

"Your Uncle Ivan was there, too, Helen," said Ekaterin, obviously trying to turn the conversation.

"Uncle Ivan? In a battle?"

"Yes, indeed," said the Count. "You'll have to ask him to tell you all about it."

They passed through the entry doors and across the beautiful mosaic floor that Ekaterin had designed. Anny sighed in pleasure. It really was good to be back. They were shown to their rooms and then joined the Count and Countess and all four of the children in the Yellow Parlor for lunch. Anny had almost forgotten how good a Ma Kosti meal could be.

The adults steered the conversation away from the events on Novo Paveo as much as they possibly could for the children's sake, but it was hard to ask questions about all they had missed on Barrayar while they were away without straying onto what must have been the equally painful topic of the late count's death. Still, the new Count didn't seem to mind talking and they touched upon it from time to time. Finally, Anny got up the nerve to ask the one question she had been wondering about.

"My Lord, I understand that your mother is still on Sergyar. Will she be coming back here soon? I'd dearly like to see her again."

"Good question," said Vorkosigan with a sigh. "She offered to stay on as vicereine, until Gregor decides what he wants to do about things there. I get the impression that she might want to stay even longer."

"She does seem to have fallen in love with the place," said Ekaterin.

"She and my father really poured themselves into it. I think it's important to her to see it through."

"And that is where they met each other."

"Really?" asked Anny. She hadn't heard that story.

"Oh yes," said Vorkosigan. "Back when they were on opposite sides of a not-quite shooting war. She as a Betan Survey captain and my Da as captain of a Barrayaran warship. You'll have to get her to tell you the whole story sometime."

"I hope I get the chance, My Lord."

"So do I. I've got no clue how long she might stay on. Of course, there is enormous pressure building in the Council of Counts to get her out of there."

"Really? Why?"

"Oh, it all goes back to the… acquisition of Sergyar," replied Vorkosigan. "At the time there were a lot of counts who were demanding that the place be sliced up into new districts for new counts. I guess they were all hoping to have places to give to their younger sons and such. Old Emperor Ezar held them off, claiming that the colony was still too vulnerable to invasion and used that as an excuse for years to keep it as a closely held Imperial fief. When my father became regent he continued the policy and Gregor has seen fit to do the same. But there was always an understanding—at least among the counts—that eventually new districts would be created. Now, they are looking at this as the perfect time to go ahead with that. None of them dared press for it while my father was viceroy, but now…"

"If they have any sense, they won't try to pressure your mother, either," said Ekaterin, her eyes crinkling over the rim of her teacup.

"Yes, well, some of them might need to be reminded of that, love."

"What do you think His Majesty will do?" asked Jer.

"I don't really know. But you can ask him yourself tomorrow night, if you want."

"What?" All three of the officers said the same thing simultaneously.

"We wanted to have a little welcome home dinner for you," explained Ekaterin.

"Oh my," said Anny. "Jer and I lost all our kits on Novo Paveo. We haven't had time to get new red-and-blues or…"

"Nonsense!" laughed Vorkosigan. "This is a family party, not some Imperial review! Undress greens will do fine—or civvies if you prefer."

"I don't really have anything… the greens will be fine, My Lord."

Vorkosigan cleared his throat. "I thought we agreed to drop the 'my lords', Anny."

"You weren't a count then, My Lord."

Ekaterin laughed. "Back to Square One, dear."

Anny spent most of the next day worrying about the dinner that evening. She'd met the Emperor twice before; once at the Academy and then again right after she graduated when he made her that amazing offer to join his security detail. He had seemed very nice both times, but he was still the Emperor, her liege-lord. She'd sworn an oath to die for him when she'd gotten her commission. Not someone you could engage in idle chit-chat!

But despite her trepidations, the next evening and the dinner arrived on schedule. The Vorkosigan armsmen had gotten their hands on her undress greens and they were brushed, creased, and polished to perfection, with all the appropriate ribbons and badges in place. The total guest list was around thirty and with all the Vorkosigan armsmen, Vorbarra armsmen, servants and ImpSec people bustling about, the mansion seemed crowded. The Emperor wouldn't arrive until later and Count Vorkosigan explained that for tonight, he would appear in his Count Vorbarra persona, so he was my lord rather than sire. One of the earlier arrivals was Lord Vorpatril and Lady Vorpatril. Anny had noticed during her earlier stays that whenever there was Ma Kosti food involved, Vorpatril tended to arrive early and stay late. But on this night, he headed for her rather than the hors d'oeuvres tray. "Anny," he said, smiling. "Good evening."

"Good evening, My Lord," she replied.

"No," he said firmly. "My name is Ivan. And after all we went through, I'm not going to let you 'my lord' me the way you do my cousin."

Oh dear, not again… Anny, brought up in a very traditional household, by a father who had spent twenty years in the military, and then living under military discipline for the last six years, herself, had a very strong sense of what was proper and what was not. Vor were… well, Vor, and you simply did not treat them like you would other plain folks. She'd forced herself to deal with Lady—now countess—Vorkosigan on a first name basis, but it still made her uncomfortable. The Count wanted her to call him Miles, and now Lord Vorpatril wanted her to call him by his first name. It just wasn't right. But what could she do?

"Uh, sir…"

"Ivan."

"Sir, as a serving military officer, I don't think it is appropriate for me to address you in that fashion in public. I've let the Count talk me down to sir, and I would be willing to do that with you, too. Sir."

"Anny…"

"Ivan Xav," interrupted Vorpatril's wife. "You're clearly making her uncomfortable. Don't be a twit."

"Yes, Ivan, don't be a twit," said the Count, coming up behind him. "What was he being a twit about, Tej?"

"Nothing," said Lord Vorpatril, testily. He looked back at Anny, smiling a tight smile. "A pleasure seeing you again, Captain Payne."

"And you, sir." Had she offended him? It was hard to tell.

Vorkosigan brushed past him and came up to her. "Anny? The Koudelkas are here. I'm sure you want to see Drou and Kou."

"Oh yes… I think."

"If you're worried what they'll be feeling about your arm, don't. They've lived with Kou's injuries for most of their lives. And they know about the realities of military service, so they'll take it in stride the way you have. Now come along." He led her back into the entry hallway and there were Drou and the Commodore. Coming in behind them were two of their daughters, Delia and Martya, and their husbands. Drou smiled broadly, but she also had a tinge of worry on her face as she came forward to hug her.

"Anny! Welcome home!"

"Thank you, Drou, it's good to be back," she replied, hugging her in return. The Commodore settled for a handshake, but his smile seemed untainted by anything.

"Seems you had quite an adventure, Anny. And congratulations, Captain."

"It's just a brevet, sir. I doubt I'll keep it for long."

"Oh, don't be so sure." The Commodore's smile grew a trifle until Drou nudged him. What was that all about? The others came up to extend their greetings. Martya's husband, the Escobaran scientist, appeared a bit confused about who she was, or where she'd been, but he'd always acted rather distracted the times she had met him before. Delia's husband, Commodore Galeni, on the other hand, seemed to know everything about the events on Novo Paveo, and considering his high post in ImpSec, that was hardly surprising.

"Well done, Captain, well done," he said. "You've given the military historians enough material for a few dozen books."

"Hardly me, sir," she protested. "The 61st certainly, but not me."

"Well, history will be the judge of that, won't it? But tell me, is your comrade, Lieutenant Vorsworth, here tonight?"

"Yes, sir, in the library, last I saw him."

"Good, I want a word with him. His analysis work during the operations was most impressive." Galeni headed for the library.

More guests were arriving and Ekaterin's aunt seemed to confirm that there would be much to interest historians in the Novo Pavean campaign. "Military history is not my field, dear," she said, "but the expedition was such an unprecedented example of interstellar cooperation—no matter the myriad of ulterior motives—that it will undoubtedly keep many of my colleagues busy for years to come."

Shortly before dinner, the Emperor and Empress arrived. The Emperor wore a conservative suit in Vorbarra colors. The Empress, as was often her habit, wore Komarran style trousers and bolero in colors that complimented her husband's, without mimicking them. There was no time for anything beyond a polite greeting before they were ushered off to the dining room.

Anny was embarrassed, but somehow not surprised, to find herself seated on Vorkosigan's left, directly across from the Emperor. Ivan Vorpatril was to her own left, with his wife, opposite to him, next to the Emperor. The food was wonderful, of course, but Anny really couldn't pay attention to it, not surrounded with the highest of the high Vor.

The conversations around the table started out lightly enough, but inevitably came to deal more and more with Novo Paveo and the battle there. Anny tried to downplay her role and spoke only in general terms, playing up, instead the heroism of the Regiment as a whole. She made special mention of the heroic actions of the medical services and the vivandieres. This caught the attention of Professora Vorthys, who asked a number of questions. Anny promised to give her Chris Tropio's contact information. Anny remembered Chris' ambition to attend medical school once she left the service; perhaps the Professora could help her out.

Jer and Alby were farther down the table and she couldn't tell what they were talking about most of the time. At least Alby appeared to be limiting his wine intake and didn't become overly boisterous. Commodore Galeni was seated near him and kept him closely engaged.

Lord Vorpatril was obliged to speak of his role and he did so with a reluctance that matched Anny's. She noted that Vorpatril's mother's expression grew darker and darker as he spoke and she made several pointed comments about he and his wife getting to work on some grandchildren in the near future—before he could get involved with any additional foolishness. "Yes, mother," said Vorpatril with a long sigh. "We are planning to see the doctor next week."

"Well, congratulations, Ivan!" said Simon Illyan from further down the table. The former ImpSec chief smiled broadly.

"Yes, and it's about time, coz," added Vorkosigan. More congratulations came from all along the table and Vorpatril's mother settled back in her chair with a satisfied smile on her face. Much of the talk was directed at Lord Vorpatril's wife for a while, who didn't seem all that happy with the attention, although she smiled and gave all the right responses.

But eventually the talk turned back to Novo Paveo and its aftermath. When the dessert dishes were being removed, Anny was surprised to get a question from far down the table, from the Escobaran, Enrique Borgos: "What are your plans now, Captain Payne?"

"Sir? Well, I'll still be on leave for a few weeks, but then it will be back to Fort Vorolson. We have a lot of work to do to… put things right."

"So you will be going back? To soldiering and all?"

"Of course, sir. It's what I do."

"So I hear. But from what everyone here has said, I'd think you'd be getting every medal that Barrayar has to offer. Not much more to accomplish in that line. Why not try something new?"

Anny held back an embarrassed laugh, but just then Count Vorkosigan cleared his throat noisily and stood up. "Thank you Doctor Borgos for that convenient segue." Vorkosigan paused and muttered, barely to be heard by those at the head of the table: "As incredible at that seems." Then he went on more loudly. "The question has been raised about medals and recognition for the gallant men and women of the Barrayaran Expeditionary Force. I believe that Gregor has a word or two to say on that subject. But before that happens, I want to give a toast to Anny and Jer and Alby—and of course, Ivan and Tej—welcoming them all home." He raised his glass and the other guests did likewise. "Welcome home!" they all cried. Vorkosigan took a long sip from his glass and then sat down again, nodding to the Emperor.

"Ah, yes," said the sovereign of three worlds. "Welcome home, indeed. We are very glad to have you back again. Sending you off has proven to be one of the harder decisions I've had to make during my reign. When making grand strategic decisions it is far too easy to delude oneself into thinking that the forces we move so blithely around the map are nothing more than unfeeling counters in some game." The Emperor's expression darkened and his sharp eyes moved over Anny and the other returnees. "But we are not moving counters; we are moving men and women, living beings who can be hurt and who can bleed. Those of you here at this table, and the thousands of others in the BEF, have indeed bled and indeed been hurt in both spirit and flesh. For that you have the sincerest thanks of both myself and the Empire.

"Of course I am speaking to but five of you here tonight. What I say is for every one of the Barrayarans who served so nobly in a cause which, well, perhaps wasn't so noble. There will be public pronouncements soon, but tonight I am, here in this circle of friends, speaking from my heart, to express to you how proud I am of you all, and how humbling it is to command such men and women."

Anny's skin was tingling. Circle of friends? Was he including her in that? Her emperor's words were… she couldn't describe it. She felt like she had when she took her oath to him on the Academy parade ground two years earlier. At this moment she wanted to kneel down and pledge him her loyalty all over again. Wherever you wish to send me, Sire, I will go gladly.

"My military advisors," continued the Emperor, "tell me that the actions of the 61st Regiment were among the most courageous of any unit in the Barrayaran military—indeed in any human military—in our long and bloody history. While not as widely read as some, I cannot help but agree. Such gallantry needs to be acknowledged and rewarded." He paused and glanced at Count Vorkosigan. "A list of decorations to be awarded has been drawn up and should be announced in a few days. I can assure each of you here that your accomplishments will not go unnoticed.

"For a starter, I can inform you that all of the brevet promotions made on Novo Paveo will be confirmed." His gaze went to Anny and he smiled. "Congratulations, Captain Payne."

Anny was utterly gobsmacked. She'd dared to dream that she would be confirmed as captain, but she never thought of it as more than a pleasing fantasy. But to receive it now from the Emperor himself! The others at the table all applauded and Alby shouted out: "Way to go, Anny!"

"Th-thank, you, si…, er, My Lord," she stuttered, barely remembering not to call him sire.

"You are most welcome, Captain. There will, of course be a campaign ribbon for all who participated in the expedition, and the 61st Regiment will be awarded the Imperial Unit Citation." He paused again and spun the stem of his wine glass between two fingers before stopping himself. "Having read the after-action reports of the battle and watching some of the video recordings, I came to the conclusion that an action so extraordinary requires an additional award that is also… extra-ordinary. So, I have consulted with the Master of Heraldry, and We have decided that a special medal, commemorating the Battle of Milagres, is to be struck. It shall be awarded to all those who served in the action. The troops fighting, the medical services, supporting them, even the local militia units. It shall be given to them, but no others shall ever wear it. I'm told that such a thing has only been done three times in Imperial history." He glanced at Vorkosigan again and then said: "Well, I think that's all. But now, let me propose a toast to all of Barrayar's heroes." He got to his feet and everyone else did as well. They raised their glasses and drank.

Quite a while later, the guests were mingling, or sitting or strolling as they pleased. It pleased Anny to be mingling, sitting or strolling with Jer. The guests sipped fine wine and nibbled on dainties provided by Ma Kosti. Anny and Jer nibbled on the dainties and occasionally on each other. They'd both had a little too much to drink and Jer kept calling her Captain, and she responded by calling him Hero. They laughed quite a lot.

Alby was still being hounded by Commodore Galeni and she wondered if the end of the evening would see Alby dragooned into ImpSec. Such things could happen, after all. She hoped it didn't. In the normal course of things, Alby wouldn't be given the option of turning it down the way she had.

The two of them were standing on one of the balconies, taking in the cool spring air, when one of the armsmen found them. "Captain? Lieutenant? The Count has asked you to join him for a moment." He led them to one of the smaller sitting rooms on the first floor. Count Vorkosigan was there. So was Count Vorbarra. Oh dear… what now?

"Relax, Anny," said Vorkosigan with a smile. "Gregor isn't going to try and talk you into joining his security detail again, if that's what you were thinking." Anny relaxed slightly. She had been thinking exactly that. Vorkosigan turned sharply toward the Emperor. "And that reminds me: you never paid me the mark I won on that bet."

The Emperor smiled, but didn't answer Vorkosigan. Instead he gestured to the chairs. "Please, let's sit down. This is just an informal chat I wanted to have with you. There are a few things I wanted to tell you, and a few questions I want to ask." They found their seats and the armsman left, closing the door behind him.

"First," began the Emperor, "let me reiterate my gratitude to you—and all your comrades—for the job you did on Novo Paveo. My own advisors tell me that if the EnBees had been allowed to carry out their plans unhindered then the situation might well have become a disaster of major proportions. The warning provided by you, Captain, Lord Vorpatril, and Lieutenant Vorsworth were critical. Equally critical was the gallant fight put up by the 61st and their supporting forces. Finally, even with all of that, the destruction of the enemy machine; that you carried out, Lieutenant, was the decisive blow. Failure at any one of those points might have left the enemy in control of Araxa with a hundred thousand hostages and leaving us with an impossible situation."

Anny wanted to protest and she could tell that Jer did as well, but there was no way she could force herself to interrupt.

"Instead, we have managed to walk away from this and can call it a victory." He shook his head. "A victory, but at a terrible cost. A valuable lesson, too, I hope. I thank you for both."

"Sire!" said Anny, finding her voice. "You can hardly give us credit for…" The Emperor raised his hand and she cut herself off.

"Yes. You are correct. In the face of such enormous sacrifice, to single out a few people for special reward or acclaim would be inappropriate and grossly unfair. Therefore it has been decided that the highest awards shall be granted posthumously. After a close review of the records of the battle, eleven Vorbarra Crosses shall be bestowed. One to Colonel Fetherbay and the other ten to men who gave their lives for their comrades during the battle." Anny breathed a sigh of relief.

"A great many other medals will be given out, as well, of course" continued the Emperor, "to both the living and the dead. Lieutenant Vorsworth will receive a Distinguished Service Star. You, Lieutenant Naddel, along with about thirty others, will be awarded the Medal for Conspicuous Gallantry." Anny felt Jer stiffen beside her. "Yes, I know that you could not have done what you did without all the other men who made the charge. But the fact remains that you did it and that will be recognized." A warm glow grew inside Anny. Yes, this was well deserved!

"Thank you, Sire," gasped Jer.

"Captain Payne," Anny's attention was jerked back to the Emperor. "You already have an MCG and it will be adorned with oak leaves and crossed swords." Now Anny gasped, too. Those two additions elevated the medal to a position only a tiny step below a Vorbarra Cross! She could scarcely believe it.

"Thank you, Sire."

"You are both most welcome. But now I have a question for you, Captain. There has been quite a bit made in some circles of your statement to General Vordanov that you did not lead the final charge. Now the records from the battle armor suits clearly show that you did lead the charge. Colonel Fetherbay was dead and had issued no order to charge. You, on your own, took the regimental colors and called upon your comrades to attack—and then you led the way. So, I have to ask: why did you say that to Vordanov?"

Anny was silent for a moment marshaling her thoughts. She'd asked herself that question a hundred times since that day.

"Captain?"

"Sire, the Regiment made the charge. The 61st Regiment made the charge. And the 61st was Colonel Fetherbay's regiment. It was what he had made it. He trained us and molded us into the unit that could take eighty percent casualties and still not break. If he hadn't done that, then my… gesture would have led to nothing. And I was ready to run, Sire, I really was. I was more frightened than I'd ever been in my life. I wanted to run and I was ready to. But then Colonel Fetherbay reminded me of my duty; reminded me what the oath I'd taken really means. All I did was to remind everyone else of the same thing. They reacted just as I had. So yes, Colonel Fetherbay did lead that charge, in every way that matters."

Now the Emperor was silent. Count Vorkosigan was as still as if he was carved from stone. Finally, the Emperor nodded his head.

"Yes, yes, I see," he said, a tiny tremor in his voice. "Sometimes everyone needs to be reminded of their duty. Everyone." He relaxed a bit and Vorkosigan took a breath. Anny found herself quivering.

The Emperor sat back in his chair, cleared his throat, rubbed his nose and blinked. "Well. There is one more thing—two, actually. As I said, the list of medals to be awarded was drawn up by the military and reviewed and approved by me. I rarely interfere with things like that and I did not this time. However, I do have it in my power to bestow certain non-military honors without it being reviewed by anyone. The chief of these is the Emperor's Thanks. It was created by my grandfather, mostly as a reward to political cronies, but since his time has been used to recognize Imperial citizens who have made outstanding contributions in all manner of ways from the scientific and artistic, to charitable and community service. Captain Payne, you most definitely have this emperor's thanks."

Anny didn't know what to say, but Vorkosigan smiled. "That's very well done, Gregor. Should have thought of that myself."

"Oh, and there's one more thing," said the Emperor. He pulled a flimsy from his pocket, unfolded it and handed it to Anny. "I've received this request. And I fully approve."

Anny looked at it and gasped.

[Scene Break]

Jer sat on the hard seat of the bleachers and watched Anny step up to the podium on the reviewing stand. There was a considerable stir among the other spectators, but not even a twitch from the three thousand cadets assembled on the field below him. Anny had been absolutely flabbergasted by the request that she be the guest speaker at this year's graduation ceremonies at the Imperial Service Academy. Jer had been delighted, but Anny had been reduced to a quivering mess for the two weeks between the dinner at Vorkosigan House and today's events. What am I going to say? How can I possibly speak in front of all those people? And stop smiling at me you lunk! It had been an interesting couple of weeks.

"Think she'll pass out?" whispered Alby from beside him. He was here, too, since his girl, Abigail Vorburn, was graduating today.

"Don't think so," he whispered back. "But I think she's more frightened of this than she was to charge that MPDC." Alby grinned and looked like he would have said something more, but then someone shushed them and they had to shut up.

The Academy adjutant who had introduced Anny stepped aside and Anny took his place. She had several sheets of flimsies which she shuffled nervously. She looked out at the cadets, looked down at her notes, and then looked up again and began.

"Imperial cadets, two short years ago I stood where you stand now, on this very field, and wondered what the future held for me." Anny's voice didn't reveal any of the nervousness Jer knew she was feeling. It wasn't quite her 'command voice', but nearly so. The sound system carried it clearly to all corners of the field. "I never imagined that I would find myself here today, addressing you. I never imagined the road I would have to travel to return here. But that is the nature of the future: it gives us no warnings, no maps, telling us what to expect. We cannot predict the future; we can only prepare ourselves to meet whatever it might hold. Preparing for the future is what we are taught here at the Academy. It is the lesson I learned and it is the lesson you must learn."

Jer stared at Anny with satisfaction. She looked wonderful in her dress greens, blue captain's tabs on her collar, sword at her side. Her MCG hung on a ribbon at her throat. Jer's MCG was on his chest, but the addition of the oak leaves and swords called for Anny to wear hers that way. Of course, she had her Distinguished Service Star on her chest along with her three wound medals and the campaign medal and the new Milagres Medal they'd all received. On the opposite side of her tunic there were her Imperial Unit Citation, Infantry Combat Badge, Assault Badge, and the small glittering starburst of the Emperor's Thanks. It made quite a display. Damn he was proud of her!

Actually, Anny could have made an even more impressive display if she'd wanted to. Over the last two weeks, to her intense embarrassment, she'd started getting decorations from foreign militaries, members of the Alliance, often delivered personally by ambassadors and envoys to Vorkosigan House. Anny's fame had spread far and wide. Five medals had arrived so far and according to Count Vorkosigan more could be expected. Anny's embarrassment quotient had reached critical levels. She'd thanked the people delivering them, and then packed the decorations away.

She continued to speak, telling the cadets of the importance of the things they learned at the Academy, giving examples from her own experience that didn't quite touch on the events that everyone here had heard all about. "She's gotta get over that modesty of hers, someday," whispered Alby. "Not good for advancing careers."

"She's done alright, even with the modesty," replied Jer.

"True."

"Finally," said Anny, "let me talk about the oaths you seniors will soon swear. The words you will speak will be—should be—the most important you will ever say. With them you are committing yourselves to a life of service to our Emperor, to our worlds, and to our people. Once said, they can never be unsaid. It is an awesome responsibility. It is also the highest honor any of us can ever aspire to. So speak them proudly! And then live by them each day. Thank you, very much." Anny stepped back from the podium.

The applause that swept over the field started from the crowd of spectators in the bleachers and was the polite sort of clapping you'd expect. Jer and Alby clapped harder than most, of course. But then, from among the seated dignitaries on the reviewing stand, a tall figure got to his feet. There was a bit of a gasp among the watchers, but then the applause grew louder. The other people on the platform got to their feet and then all the people in the bleachers rose as well and the applause grew to a roar. Anny stood there in confusion and even from thirty meters away, Jer could see her blushing a bright pink. Maybe she will faint.

Alby started whistling and others did, too. It went on for a good two or three minutes and then slowly started to die down. But then suddenly there was a roll of drums and a trilling of fifes from the cadets' regimental band. This was then followed by three cheers roared out by the thousands of assembled cadets.

Jer and Alby looked at each other in surprise. Nothing like this had ever happened during their four years at the Academy! But then the guest speakers at those earlier graduations had all been by old men at the end of their careers. Men who none of the cadets had ever met. But Anny, Anny was one of them. Two of the classes here had known her, seen her, and the younger two classes had certainly heard all about her. She was one of them, and the first lesson that every cadet learned was that they took care of their own. Always.

Anny looked this way and that, cheeks glistening with tears. She finally found her chair and collapsed into it and looked down until the roar slowly died away. The rest of the ceremony went on, but Anny scarcely moved. She sat there with hands clasped. Jer's eyes remained on her and she did risk a glance in his direction from time to time.

Finally it was time for the pass in review and they all got to their feet as the cadets marched past. Abbie Vorburn was leading one of the companies in the battalion of newly commissioned officers. Alby waved to her, but she couldn't respond, of course. The companies and battalions marched by, saluting the Emperor. Jer couldn't help but think that some of them were probably saluting Anny, too.

When it was over they waited for some of the crowd to disperse so they could find Anny and Abbie. Count Vorkosigan had once again promised to treat them all to dinner.

"Well," breathed Alby, "there's something you don't see every day."

"No," agreed Jer. "And I think it might be a long time before they see anything like her again."

"That's for sure. Come on, let's find everyone and then go eat. I'm hungry."