She unbuckled her swordbelt. As part of the retirement ceremonies, officers would relinquish their sabers, but generals and flag officers would be awarded a gold-plated replacement. The saber was entirely ceremonial in the first place, but this even less practical version symbolized that the old soldier or sailor's fighting days were over. Of course, politics were no less of a battlefield, so as long as she remained planetary governor, Admiral Globus' fight would go on.

Before she could take off her jacket, she first had to remove her sash. Once she was granted peerage, her rank in the Order of the Sapphire mattered less, but she would not have minded a promotion to Knight High Commander. Perhaps she could gain admission to the Order of the Onyx now that she was retired, though there was less vertical mobility for the governor of a backwater planet than for a fleet commander in the Reclamation Project. It was too late to hope for the Order of the Diamond, not that she ever had any real hope of that. No, she had climbed as far as she was likely to go. It was just as well that she did not have any children. A fifth-class knight turned fifth-class baroness would have nothing to pass on, so any heir of hers would have felt cheated.

Her jacket was heavy with ribbons and medals. What else would you expect from a storied career of eighty years? She thought of photos she had seen of the officers in ancient tin-pot dictatorships with so many frivolous awards that there was no room left on their jackets and they had to resort to pinning medals to their pantleg. The Empire never permitted such nonsense. In the rare event your awards outstripped your jacket's real estate, the awards of lowest precedence would be omitted.

Once she had hung up her uniform, she changed into a simple gown. She wore civilian clothes so rarely that she lost all sense of what was fashionable, but perhaps she would need to hire someone to see that she was outfitted in accord with her rank and station. Many retirees still wore their uniforms for formal occasions, so perhaps she would as well, but for day-to-day wear, she was going to have to change her habits.

A bottle of her favorite wine had been left on her desk by one of the stewards. She poured herself a glass and paced about in her room. The Ignis Splendentis had been her home for so long, but now that Admiral Javad was in command, the fleet would probably not be spending so much time around Merkab. She had commissioned an orbital station to coordinate the monitoring of the planet and to act as a waypoint for both personnel and materiel being shuttled to and from the surface. Perhaps that would be her new capital. Or maybe she would find a place to settle on the surface. Security would be a bit of a concern, but she had only personally set foot on her own fief precious few times. That might need to change.

She found herself thinking of that boy. She was not the sort of person who took no for an answer. If she tried to force him, he would resist that much more fiercely, but if she were to provide the right 'encouragement'... Yes, there were many ways to get him to see things her way. She would make him beg for her benevolence and he would love her for it. With the proper molding, he would be one of her greatest assets. He was young yet. The molding would come easily.

She had said she was going to have a lot more time on her hands, but there was ever so much to do. Guiding the fate of a billion souls is a lot of work, after all. Gardening always had been a worthy pastime for retirees and she was looking forward to all the new and exciting ways to make her garden grow.