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This post contains scenes of female masturbation, attempted rape, and
violence... not to mention elements of plot and character. If any offend
you immensely, I advise you to stop reading.

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Preface:

From "The History of the Second Empire, Vol. 3," The Final Decade, page
237.

"Rammerg V was to be the last crowned head of the Second Empire. When he
ascended the throne, he brought with him an oddly distorted version of
R'Ternogian philosophy, due without doubt to his worship of Nelemi.
Rammerg V enacted the "Edict of Predestiny." With this one law, Rammerg V
triggered massive civil unrest. And although the Imperial Army initially
stood by Rammerg V, they, too, soon turned on him. The problems arose when
the Grand Captains say the Edict of Predestiny as the restoration of their
guaranteed positions next to the throne, while the Line Officers saw it as
a death warrant for the men who had been fighting the centuries-long
campaign against the eleven lands in K'Raugne.
 "It is possible that the split in the military that for so long had kept
the throne safe would have healed itself, but as it happened, with one
slip of a dagger, an officer ended the Imperial line with Rammerg V."

Part One: The Front

Chapter One
 Grand Captain DePolarno generally didn't like traveling to the front; he
liked confronting the Line Officers even less. They always seemed to be
caked with mud, blood, and even more horrid, inconceivable substances.
Their uniforms were always in disarray, their weapons always nonstandard
issue, and they always glared at him with cold, icy eyes, as if it was his
fault that the Great Nelemi had given the Emperor the wisdom to restore
the natural order.
 "After all," he had boldly told one particularly brazen officer who dared
question the wisdom of his orders, "if you and yours were Grand Captain
material, this campaign would have ended a century ago."
 The officer, a common Captain of the Lance, had called him names of an
unsavory enough sort that DePolarno had successfully brought treason
charges against him, and the common Captain had thrown himself upon his
own sword in the Hall of Justice at the Imperial Court. If only the
Military Judge hadn't offered him the opportunity to say some final words:
DePolarno could have done without being insulted by a man who was about to
kill himself.
 However, this trip to the front would prove somewhat more pleasant, he
was certain, for he had returned to this disgusting pit of vulgarity
bearing good news from the Grand Captains: a successor had been named to
replace the officer who had so brazenly mouthed off to DePolarno. As this
officer was the child of a fellow Grand Captain, he would be one officer
who would undoubtedly treat DePolarno with the respect he deserved, for he
would understand the privilege and honor that came with the rank of Grand
Captain.
 "Sir," said the young soldier who had escorted DePolarno from the
courtyard into which his adjunct had magically translocated him and  into
the mazelike halls of the command complex of the 234th Lance. He gestured
casually at a door. "Lieutenant DePinder is in there, sir."
 DePolarno looked at the young man, who's boots were unpolished and
spattered with mud, who's uniform jacket was partially unbuttoned,
revealing a bare, hairless chest, and who's tussled hair reflected the two
or three day's of beardgrowth on his chin. He straightened his own dark
blue coat over his ample paunch and made sure the goldbraids on his right
shoulder were hanging straight. "I would think you will have to adjust
your sloven ways when a real Captain of the Lance takes charge here," he
said coolly.
 "Yes, sir."
 "And you will also have to obey every order as it is issued, _when_ it is
issued."
 The soldier sighed. "Sir, as I tried to explain, Lieutenant DePinder
asked that I--"
 "As Grand Captain, my desire to see Captain DePinder overrides his desire
to alerted to visitors. I have important news regarding his future in the
Imperial Army, and I'm sure he would like to hear first breath of it from
me, not some useless, lazy, lackey.
 A strange expression appeared on the soldier's face, a look of doubt and
amusement all at once. "He would, sir? You really think he feels that way?
 "Yes, I do. And are you questioning my judgment?"
 Doubt vanished from the soldier's face, leaving only amusement. "No, sir.
I have learned from the example of my previous commander. I have no doubt
that you understand the mind of Lieutenant DePinder better than I. After
all, you and he are closer in the castes than he and I." Without so much
as a click of his heels, the soldier turned and started to walk away.
 "What's your name and unit, soldier?"
 "Sav Corbayne," he replied without turning back or even stopping. "234th
Lance Corps Command."
 Irritated, DePolarno turned to the door, and opened it, striding forward
like a man who was used to getting what he wanted when he wanted, and
going where he wanted when he wanted to go there.
 Beyond the door was a large room that was part office and part
bedchamber. Near a set of large bay widows stood a broad desk in which
hundreds of documents were arranged neatly in stacks. A comfortable chair
was pushed back from it, and a muddy uniform coat, white shirt, and belt
with a sheathed sword had been tossed in the seat. Near the chair,
DePolarno saw were an equally muddy pair of black uniform pants, and a
pair of mud-caked, knee-high boots with the spurs still on them. His eyes
followed this trail to the large canopy bed where curtains obscured the
matress and bedding from prying eyes. For the first time, he noticed a
faint rustling of cloth from within and an even fainter creaking of wood.
 "Must be sleeping," DePolarno thought, and was about to raise his voice
in a firm, very military-like command to arise that he was certain a Line
Officer could appreciate. But then he heard a new sound, louder sound... a
breathless moan.
 "Uuuuh," the voice came from behind the curtains. "Uhhh...."
 DePolarno's words stuck in his mouth, even as he felt a stirring in his
crotch. The young Lieutenant was fucking some harlot, and doing a decent
job at it from the sound of it. DePolarno knew that moan she'd uttered,
even if the Lieutenant himself was being awfully quiet and gentle about
it; no sounds of flesh slapping together, of lips sliding off each other,
and the whisper of the sheets was barely audible. A gentle lad,
apparently, which might mean he was poor officer stock.
 The woman moaned softly again, and sheets brushed against one another.
 This would have to be investigated. His penis hardening, straining
against the confines of his red-piped uniform trousers, DePolarno went to
the foot of the bed and parted the curtain ever-so-slightly.
 There was only one person in the bed, a slight, almost boyishly built
woman, but there was no doubt she was a woman, for her thighs were spread
wide and DePolarno started directly into her slit as two of her fingers
twisted and probed deeply within her, past the lips that were covered with
red hairs. Her hand and inner thighs were moist with her juices.
 "Oh gods," she said sharply.
 DePolarno's gaze shot to her face, but found that her eyes were closed
tightly, as her other hand pressed against one of her small breasts and
she arched her back to shove her hips up to meet her rigid fingers. She
hadn't noticed him at all.
 "I need you," she said loudly. "I want you."
 DePolarno looked around the room, and, finding that he was, indeed the
only other one here, returned this eyes to the woman in the bed. Her
delicately built, finely muscled body was covered with a sheen of sweat,
the short-cropped red hair on her head was damp and plastered to her
scalp. Her face, shoulders and breasts were covered with freckles. She
gyrated her hips, her fingers twisting inside her, as she moaned again.
The hand that had been working her breast moved to her slit. Even as three
fingers plunged into her, her other hand slid up her body, leaving a wet
trail across her stomach, chest and neck, until she started to lick the
her own juices from her fingers with a glistening tongue. Her eyes were
still tightly shut.
 DePolarno rubbed his penis through his pants. It was harder than a
mace-handle. He breathed deeply through the nose, enjoying the smell of
the woman's passion as it flowed across her fingers. Lieutenant DePinder
was a fool, he decided, for not being here with his harlot. Maybe he's not
a gentle lover, but he certainly takes his duties much to seriously if he
allowed something to pull him away from this horny piece of meat.
 The woman groaned and thrust both hands against her wet slit, crossing
her wrists. DePolarno saw the wetness stream past the four fingers she
drove deep insider her, as she gyrated her hips and thrust them toward
him.
 He was about to cum in his pants and saw no reason to waste it. His
swordbelt was off in a second, and his trousers were undone almost as
quickly and shoved down the tops of his boots. He lowered his knees onto
the bed and crawled forward, between the woman's widespread thighs. She
was undulating, up and down, up and down, and didn't even notice the added
weight on the bed.
 Her scent struck him again, and he thought briefly about shoving his face
into her sopping slit, just shoving his tongue in between her fingers and
drinking her sweet nectar, but then he was once again struck by her narrow
frame, her slender hips...
 There was a saying among the Imperial Officers and Soldiers: "A man knows
he's a man when he's killed a woman with his dick." DePolarno knew his
penis was large--it had brought many a compliment from the harlots of the
Golden City, but he had never thought it was big enough to finally prove
him a man--but he had never tried to fuck any woman as small as this one.
He licked his lips, one hand closing around his swollen, rockhard shaft,
as he reached forward with the other. Her moist lips appeared to be
tightly stretched over the fingers that she had driven into herself as she
gyrated and groaned, and she looked so small that he was convinced he
would not only tear those lips but probably displace her intestines as
well. His dick might even push into her stomach, he thought.
 As the woman began to moan again, DePolarno grabbed her wrists and shoved
them upward, pulling her fingers from her slit even as he drove his dick
into her. It slid into a tight wetness unlike any he's experienced; this
woman was tighter than tight. And she let out a scream, that was a mixture
of surprise and pain, but DePolarno knew he'd soon turn it to pleasure...
a deadly pleasure.
 "Just enjoy it, bitch," he snarled, staring into her face, which bore a
horrified expression, her eyes--mint-green in color--wide. He shoved
harder, pushing her across the sheets as his dick entered her spasming
pussy.
 She threw her head back, crying out and he pushed her hands to her side,
still holding them tightly in his steely grip. He felt her thighs closing
around his hips, her legs folding across his lower back, he felt her hips
twisting, the lips of her pussy moving delightfully as he drove into her.
"You're going to make me cum too quickly, bitch," he shouted, gleefully.
He was about to continue, when her legs tightened even further and he felt
her thigh-muscles tighten and pull his forward, As she did, her upper-body
swung upward. The twist of her body yanked her wrists free from his grasp,
but he felt his dick enter her completely.
 And then he felt her forehead crack against his the bridge of his nose.
 He jerked away, tumbling backwards out of the bed as her legs released
him. His head smacked against the floor, as he let his hands reflexively
fly to his face instead of attempting to break his fall. "You'll pay for
this, you cunt," he shouted, blood streaming past his fingers and
star-shaped bursts blurring his vision. "You don't know who I am!" He
started to get up, but then felt the cold, sharp edge of a swordblade on
his throat.
 "And you obviously don't know who _I_ am," the woman hissed. She had
grabbed the sword from the deskchair, and was pressing it against
DePolarno's throat, her glistening body standing over him, no longer
appearing so small.
 DePolarno tried to react with the attitude dictated by his station. "You
are committing treason against the Empire, twice-fold. You are touching
the sword of an Imperial Officer, and you are using it to threaten a Grand
Captain."
 "Do you know what I do with rapists, Grand Captain?" Her green eyes fixed
on his, twin blazes of fury. She kicked him, her bare heel connecting with
his still-erect penis and his balls. The sharp pain caused him to jerk
upward, and the blade nicked his throat. And, despite the pain, her kick
caused him to ejaculate, his sperm shooting so far it hit him in the face,
mixing pastely with the blood streaming from his nose. "I have them
impaled!"
 "You're the Lieutenant's woman," DePolarno said, tears of pain welling up
into his eyes Even through the haze, he could see her hateful green eyes.
"I'm a Grand Captain... that make's you mine..."
 "Corbayne," the woman shouted. "Corbayne, get your ass in here, _now_!"
` The door to the room opened, and the sloven, disrespectful soldier who
had brought him hear appeared. "Yup?"
 "What the fuck is going on here?"
 "Grand Captain DePolarno insisted on seeing you, sir. He saw no need for
me to alert you to his presence, for, as he correctly pointed out, his
orders override yours."
 The sharpened edge withdrew from DePolarno's neck, and the woman moved
away, crossing toward the desk. "Grand Captain, I apologize for the
confusion," she said, placing the sword on the surface and picking up the
white shirt. She slipped it over her narrow shoulders and started
buttoning it. Her lightly muscled legs were still alluringly naked, but
DePolarno was in too much pain to care. "It appears my adjunct has had
some fun at the expense of both of us. He doesn't take well to pompous
asses, and his judgment is clouded when confronted by them."
 DePolarno pulled himself to his feet, hunched over from the burning pain
in his crotch. "Your adjunct?"
 "I am Lieutenant DePinder." A look of distaste crossed her face. "For
Deyave's sake, cover yourself!"
 DePolarno pulled up his pants and fastened the latches gingerly. His eyes
met the woman's green ones. "How can you be, you're--"
 She held up one hand as she reached for the muddy trousers. "Don't
bother. I'm not in the mood to explain anything to you, but I'll agree
with your unspoken point: I'm a woman, so I can't be an officer of
Lancers."
 "But--"
 "What did you wish to see me about?"
 As the pain in his crotch eased, DePolarno's mind began to work again.
Whatever was happening here, these two cretins were addressing a Grand
Captain, and they were disgracing the uniforms they were wearing, whether
there was any possibility they were who they said they were or not. "I
came to see Lieutenant DePinder about a new assignment, but now I see a
mistake has happened." He bent to pick up his swordbelt, only to find the
tip of a sword at his throat for the second time in five minutes. He
straightened his back, and found it was the young soldier this time. "I
will have you both court-martialed for treason, whether you are who you
say you are or not," he shrieked.
 "Brave words for a man who's about to have his throat slit," the young
soldier hissed. "You assaulted my commander, and I'm sworn to protect
her," he glanced at the woman who was pulling on a pair of pants that
hugged her narrow hips tightly, "_him_ at the expense of even my own
life."
 The edge in the soldier's voice frightened DePolarno more than the
swordblade ever could. He knew the man was not just threatening him, he
knew the man would kill him without care for his lofty status as Grand
Captain. But then the woman spoke again:
 "Corbayne, stop it. You know you can't kill him. We have rules and
regulations to go by."
 DePolarno looked at the woman. "Harlot," he said, taking great effort in
sounding officious to hide the fear the soldier was causing him to feel,
"you may be a liar, but you do the Lieutenant justice, nonetheless
 The woman's eyes narrowed, the look of hate and fury returning. "Even
before you disgraced Captain Lorfell, I dealt with rapists one way and one
way only. Now that I am in command, I pass judgment as well. You have been
found guilty of the crime of rape, and Staff Officer Sav Corbayne is the
corroborating witness."
 "Yup," the young soldier said, taking the blade away from DePolarno's
throat.
 "Remove your coat, sir."
 Terror gripped DePolarno's heart. He saw where this was heading. "You
can't do this."
 The woman--no, as impossible as it seemed, _Luitenant DePinder_--padded
to the door, as silent as a ghost on her bare feet and called down the
hall. "I need a detachment of wardens, immediately. A soldier from the
34th Infantry just tried to force himself upon me!"
 "No!" DePolarno shouted. Suddenly, Staff Officer Corbayne's blade
flashed. It danced and slashed around DePolarno's upper-body, as the Grand
Captain took several startled steps backward. "No!"
 When the blade stopped whizzing through the air, both DePolarno's jacket
and shirt were in tatters and all evidence of his rank were strewn across
the floor.
 "Enjoy your night in the stockade," Lieutenant DePinder said, her voice
icy. "Tomorrow I'll see you on the execution field.
 Two blackclad, hulking men appeared behind her in the doorway. "Where's
the wee bastards," one of them roared.
 DePinder leaned back against the desk, as if supporting herself. She
pointed at DePolarno and the two soldiers rushed forward. Even before he
was out of the room, they had broken his arm, and he was shrieking
incoherently with pain and fear.
 "Keep him alive for the execution tomorrow," Corbayne called after them.
He then turned to DePinder with a broad smile. "The Captain would've
enjoyed that."
 DePinder returned the smile with a steely gaze. "I'm not so sure. If that
officer hadn't been such a buffoon, he might have hurt me. If you weren't
my friend as well as my--"
 "Come on!" Corbayne sheathed his sword. "He never had a chance with you
and you know it!"
 "What did he want?"
 Corbayne shrugged. "He threatened me with a new commander who would make
me dress right."
 "You should wear your insignias," DePinder said, going to pick up the
Grand Captain's swordbelt. "That might have prevented this whole
situation."
 "It was justice."
 "It was necessity," DePinder corrected. She found the hidden pouch on the
back of the swordbelt where important communiques were secreted, in case
the officer in question fell into enemy hands. Keeping the papers in those
pouches was tradition more than anything else; everyone, including eleven
civilians, DePinder suspected, knew of their existence. She pulled the
paper loose and scanned it. "Once I broke his nose, there was no turning
back for any of us. Well... this _is_ interesting."
 "What?"
 She looked at him with a smirk on her face. "Either someone in the Golden
City has made a huge mistake, or Father has been pulling strings again. I
have just been promoted to Captain of the 234th Lance."
 Corbayne's jaw dropped and he stared dumbly at DePinder.
 The lithe woman sat down on the bed, hooking her legs at her bare ankles
and studied the parchment that bore the Imperial seal. Her smirk broadened
to a smile.
"We can finally do something about winning this war!"

Continued...