Free The Lotus Eaters by Tom Kratman

you've been keeping up with your studies; you're going to be commanding cohorts before the signifier half of you even have to begin shaving regularly. Senior Tribunes?"—captains and majors in other armies—"There are eagles in your future . . . that, or relief for cause."

Headquarters, Tauran Union Security Force-Balboa, Bldg 59, Fort Muddville, Balboa
    In his ornate office, behind his massive desk made of hand carved Terra Novan silverwood, Janier contemplated the series of gold-embroidered eagles on the blue material of the sleeves of his reproduction marshal's uniform.
    How sad , he thought, to be born into the wrong time. Seven centuries ago and I could have marched with the Emperor; made my name at Marengo, Austerlitz, Jena-Auerstadt. Now, all I can do is try to make my name in Balboa  . . . which is hardly the same thing. Life is so unfair.
    Still, it could be worse. I have good troops, great power. The weather is pleasant and the surroundings more civilized than in, say, Middle Uhuru. At least my mistress here is approximately white.
    The general breathed a deep sigh pregnant with frustration. I could take the rest of this country if my political masters would allow me to and support me in it. At least, now I could. It's simply a question of isolating that force out on the Isla Real by navy and air, and we have the assets to do both back in Taurus, then grabbing Parilla's government, the one that presides over the rest of Balboa. Yes, there are a hundred thousand enemy reservists, but they can be handled with their leadership stuck out on the island. And even the island must surrender when the food runs out.
    There are, of course, those distressing rumors that the Legion del Cid has nuclear weapons. But I don't see them using them on their own base country. The things aren't terribly useful, anyway; and didn't the Yithrabi terrorists prove that when they set one off by accident in their own capital?
    Capital . . . capital . . . I can see myself marching proudly through the capital after I have won the war here. I can see myself at the helm of Gaul, tugging its strings, while Gaul tugs the Tauran Union's strings, the TU runs the World League, and the World League shits on the damned Columbians of the Federated States.
    Of course, the trick will be to make sure that United Earth is not in a position to pull my strings. Well . . . half the trick, anyway. I still need to find a way to convince the TU to support me.
    I wonder if the Balboans, themselves, wouldn't assist in that. That would be a help.

Rome, Province of Italy, Old Earth
    Marguerite breathed a small sigh of relief when the SecGen agreed, "I can shave a little more off the top for maintenance of the Peace Fleet. But you have to understand; my position depends in good part on not asking too much in the way of sacrifices, and on giving the people that matter what they want. Why, after all, do you suppose I let the Azteca and the Orthodox Druids get away with their insanities?"
    The SecGen uttered a curse. "Why, oh, why can't those morons be like the Caliph of Rome, on the other side of the Vatican? He, at least, is a sensible man, an atheist."
    Wallenstein ignored that. As a member in good standing of the Reformed Druidic faith, she didn't really approve of the Caliph or his cynical manipulation of his diminishing faithful. Changing the subject back, she said, "If you can't provide what the fleet needs quickly—"
    "—I can't—"
    "—Then we'll have to bring it forward in packets." Marguerite chewed on her lower lip for a time, thinking hard. "I really need to keep the Peace Fleet on station around Terra Nova . . . hmmm . . .
    Marguerite's eyes brightened. "Well . . . the colonization fleet is still in orbit around the moon."
    "No one's looked to those ships in centuries , Marguerite," the SecGen said.
    "I know," she nodded. "But things in space, at least the things that aren't being used, don't deteriorate much. Those ships will