Admiral's Throne

by Luke Sky Wachter

  “Sadly, I’m not sure Capria has many other options,” he said finally.

  “Unless you think the SDF can take up the slack and keep our homeworld safe without my people?” I prompted.

  Admiral Belmont bared his teeth.

  “Looks like I’ll be calling you Your Majesty sooner rather than later,” he said finally.

  “Good. Now that we’ve had that settled, how about those oaths?” I said, clapping my hands together hard enough to cause several of the people in the room to visibly start. Not the mostly silent military officers, I noted.

  Not that I really cared. The important thing was the oaths. To a lot of people, they were empty words, but not to me.

  There was a lot of shuffling and many sidelong looks before someone finally decided to bite the bullet and started toward the door.

  Of course, that was the moment Spalding decided to stick his oar in again.

  “Great. It’s time for the Coronation! He’s finally going to be King!” Spalding said as if almost surprised at this fact, despite where we were and the entire purpose of our visit here, “I thought the day would never come,” he started, tearing up.

  The PM made a rude noise as, rolling her eyes, she left the room with the rest of the gaggle.

  “This is a private oath-taking ceremony, you fool. The official coronation will take more time to set up,” she mocked.

  There was a pause.

  “I knew that,” Spalding defended and then belatedly started for the door.

  “Who thought it was a bright idea to bring a Commander to the meeting?” asked Admiral Belmont.

  Spalding shot the SDF Admiral a look from under his brows.

  “If you let them give you too much rank, you’ll wind up an Admiral onboard some kind of orbital floating station, never to see a shipboard command again,” he said, heavy rejection in his voice. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but the idea of doing nothing but pushing papers all day while everyone else gets to have fun never seemed all that appealing.”

  “I’m surprised you made Commander with that attitude,” said Admiral Belmont.

  “Oh, I left Caprian service a junior lieutenant, Admiral. Not that I’m judging anyone’s life choices of course, Sir. After all, I’m sure you’re perfectly content pushing papers,” Spalding commiserated.

  Belmont gave Spalding a sharp look.

  “You’re really something, aren’t you, Commander,” said the SDF Admiral.

  “Me?” Spalding sounded surprised, “I’m just a humble engineer looking to keep his warships in tip-top condition.”

  Chapter 21

  Touring His Assets

  “This is quite a large complex,” Akantha said, assessing as we walked up to a large porthole that coved almost the entire wall from floor to ceiling and peered outside.

  I took a moment to look at the large Fleet Annex, of which the station we were currently in was a part, and nodded. Row after row of empty construction slips large enough for everything from a destroyer to full battleships were arrayed around and nearby the station. Of course, nothing was in them and none of them was large enough for the new Lucky Clover.

  Ah well. More important was the large factory complex on the other side of the station that I couldn’t actually see at the moment, and the giant orbital smelter that I could. It was large enough to take an entire destroyer tip first into its mighty maw, or just about anything else for that matter, although I was told it was better to try and feed it one type of metal at a time. More efficient that way.

  I’d say Commodore Spalding needed to up his game; our Orbital Smelter wasn’t nearly as big as this one, except this one was ours now. So I supposed it didn’t matter.

  Honestly, this facility had just about everything else you’d need for a shipyard, repair yard, supply depot and secondary command-and-control complex all rolled up into one, meaning it had just about everything we needed.

  “It would have been nice if we’d had something like this all along,” I said begrudgingly, remembering back to the early days of the MSP and what I could have done with a tenth of this support.

  Akantha nodded and then sighed.

  “No one gives away a facility like this, Jason. You have to earn it through deeds, effort and blood,” she said simply.

  “Yeah but if they would have just actually supported us, the Patrol Fleet, from the beginning…” I grumbled.

  “If wishes were fishes, no one would starve,” Akantha said sternly, “towns and fortresses do not just grow on trees, and a fleet base such as this? I can barely imagine how much it must have cost.”

  “Oh, I think you can imagine it pretty easily alright, considering how much blood, sweat and tears have gone into setting up everything at Gambit and then moving it all a second time!” I exclaimed. Using the jump spindles to move our growing fleet starbase wasn’t just costly in trillium. Just restarting the mining operation alone…

  “Don’t look so sour, Jason. The gains of today take nothing away from your efforts before,” she said seriously.

  She was right of course. Not that I was prepared to admit it.

  Reprieve came in the form of a harried-looking Caprian Admiral.

  “Hello, Your Highness,” the Admiral said, walking up stiffly and then after what appeared a moment of considering, offered a salute.

  For my part, I returned it.

  “I hope you’ve been enjoying your tour, Sir,” said the SDF Admiral.

  I merely nodded.

  “It’s an amazing complex you have here, Admiral Star-Hammer,” Akantha said, filling the void.

  The Admiral nodded and then gave me a sharp look.

  “It has served the ‘Caprian’ people for more than fifty years, Prince Jason,” he said with an edge in his voice, something I both understood and entirely discounted.

  “And it will continue doing a fine job protecting the Caprian people, I’m sure,” I said absently, giving the walls and ceiling a glance before giving the greater fleet annex outside the station a calculating look.

  Akantha nudged me and I flashed her a brief smile before once again turning away.

  While she sighed, the Caprian Admiral’s face flushed and he gave an audible huff.

  “My Lord Prince, I’m certain you understand your plans at all times. However,” he paused before continuing in a less strident tone, “I’m not certain you realize just how important this Fleet Annex is to the System Defense Fleet’s ability to safeguard this star system. If anything should happen to our civilian yards or the fleet’s main shipyard complex, this is what our Kingdom will have to fall back on to rebuild and restore our forces.”

  “You have my word that for as long as I am King, this Annex will always be available for the rebuilding of this star system and its defense force.” He paused and then added, “although transit times may play a factor in just how fast that rebuilding goes.”

  A red vein silently throbbed on Star-Hammer’s forehead.

  “Prince Montagne, surely you are as aware of the reality of things as much as I am. Which is why I can only implore you—” I cut him off.

  “I appreciate your position as Annex Commander, Rear Admiral,” I said raising a hand, “but while I am more than willing to squander every ha-penny and centabo aboard our Treasure Fleet in the name of goodwill and the undying gratitude of the Caprian people, my wife’s people, unfortunately, demand fair and concrete value for the hard-earned wealth they have wrested from the silent stones of cold space with the deaths of their many asteroid miners.”

  The Rear Admiral looked surprised, and hesitated.

  “I did not mean to imply your people’s wealth should simply be given away, my Lady,” he said, turning to Akantha with a guilty expression.

  “The Tractoan people have been willing to shed our blood in the defense of Capria, Sector 25 and the Spine ever since the very first day of our joining the larger galactic community among the river of stars. In no small p
art, this is why I so quickly decided to support my husband and Protector in his call to heed the pleadings of his homeworld and dispatch a fleet for your immediate protection,” she said in a clear, cool voice.

  I covered my mouth with a fist while the Rear Admiral choked.

  “How much longer do you intend to continue to tour our facilities, my Prince?” Star-Hammer finally managed to squeeze out.

  “I’ll be here until the question of monarchy is solved one way or the other. My inspection teams will stay for the duration,” I deadpanned.

  “I’ve heard of your miraculous jump engines so I get the notion that you think you can move a facility of this size in something of an economical fashion, but I still don’t understand how you intend to man a facility the size of this Annex,” said Rear Admiral Star-Hammer, “besides that, both the finished and raw materials you would need alone to keep a facility of this size running, are staggering. I simply don’t see how you intend to support a facility this size with your current manpower base.”

  “I’m sure we’ll find a way,” Akantha said, looking over at me.

  I gave the Rear Admiral a confident smile.

  “All such problems are easily solved,” I said.

  “I get your confidence, I just don’t see what it is founded on,” remarked Star-Hammer.

  I gave the Rear Admiral an assessing look.

  “The Star Kingdom’s fleet is a fraction of its previous size and every ship it has is fully manned. Despite this, more than half of our officers and sailors in the SDF are sitting on their hands, beached at half pay or mustered out of the service entirely with early retirement or a refusal to offer them a re-up,” I advised him. “Yes, I’m well aware of what’s been happening back home while you lot let James run our homeworld into the ground.”

  The Admiral bristled.

  “Well you’re a Royal and I didn’t see you out doing anything about it,” he said giving me a hard look, “except for Monday morning quarterbacking those of us who were here. And hey, King James is gone. That has to tell you something, Prince Jason.”

  “For the record, I wasn’t around to fix things because you exiled my ass. And the reason I was exiled? Because I dared to save Capria and the rest of the Sector,” I scoffed.

  I could see my dig drive home as the Rear Admiral’s lips tightened.

  “That may be true but it still doesn’t change the fact you weren’t here, Your Highness. House Montagne may think this is their time in the sun but—” he retorted.

  I cut him off.

  “You can blast me for a Vekna like our last King, or curse me for being one of those wretched Montagnes, but you don’t get to do both at the same time,” I said levelly, “either way, I cut ties with the rest of the House when they shipped me out on the Lucky Clover and then left there to die when the Withdrawal happened, and they didn’t so much as lift a finger to help.”

  “Vekna, Montagne, you’re all royal as far as the people are concerned. You can say whatever you like, but you’re all wearing the same royal red,” shot back the Admiral, “now it’s true you may have kept the Empire out of the Spine and got a sore deal because of it, so maybe the government and, yes, even the citizenry are willing to give you a shot at running things. We’re desperate, I don’t deny that. So because we’re desperate and you’re the only royal who’s so much as lifted a finger to help things around here up to this point, you’ll get your chance at the crown. But that only goes so far, Sir. You’d be wise to think carefully on how you intend to go about things now that you’re home. This isn’t the Rim,” he advised.

  I eyed the Rear Admiral silently.

  “You also don’t have the same number of warships you used to. I do. In fact, I have so many warships, I can’t crew them all,” I pointed out, “including,” I allowed a pregnant pause, “battleships.”

  I could see the Rear Admiral’s metaphorical ears perk up.

  “We need each other if we’re going to do something about this bug threat we’re facing and fighting amongst ourselves isn’t the answer,” I said.

  “You would trust Caprian sailors on your battleships?” the Rear Admiral asked skeptically.

  I barked out a laugh.

  “In case you forgot, I’m Caprian, and if everything goes according to plan, I’m going to be your King. Even if it doesn’t, I have more than half a mind to keep this Annex regardless of how the coronation does or does not go,” I said after a moment of consideration.

  Seeing the Rear Admiral start to bristle again, I made an appeasing hand gesture and added.

  “For a reasonable price,” I said.

  The Rear Admiral snorted.

  “I still don’t see how you intend to man it if you intend to move it out of the Star System,” said the Star-Hammer.

  I cocked an eyebrow at him.

  “I did mention all of those unemployed and under-employed spacers sitting on the beach before, didn’t I?” I asked.

  “You mean?” the Rear Admiral leaned back.

  “I think if you have enough spacers staring down the barrel of a bug Swarm, enough of them would be willing to get off the beach and swear into the King’s Own if it means they have a chance to fight back. As for those that don’t, well, they don’t really matter, do they, Star-Hammer?” I asked.

  The Caprian Rear Admiral looked startled and then his eyes narrowed as he stared back at me.

  “It’s a dangerous game you’re playing, Prince Jason,” he warned.

  “One for all the marbles, Rear Admiral,” I agreed with a cutting smile.

  Those fools at the Palace could dither and question me all they liked. But I was going to secure our homeworld and save as many worlds from the bugs as I could manage. And with all those spacers on the beach, I think I could see a way to do it, whether or not they gave me the crown.

  Of course, the crown would make everything so much easier…

  So, there was that.

  Chapter 22

  Oath-Taking Ceremony

  The private oath-taking ceremony at the Palace was followed a week and a half later with a much more public swearing in. That was the amount of time it took for the lords to assemble and what was left of parliament to gather and formally renounce James Vekna as a tyrant and a despot and for the whole thing to be hyped and announced multiple times by public broadcast on all planetary media channels.

  To my surprise, the people of Capria failed to riot in the streets upon hearing word that I, Prince Jason, and one of those dreaded and much maligned Montagnes would soon be taking the throne.

  Oh, much was made of my contributions to my homeworld and the Caprian people by way of trillium and warships, my various campaigns against the Empire as a former Confederation Fleet Admiral and even more so of the much-needed defense of our Star Kingdom’s orbital spaces against the space bugs.

  For myself, the moment they put one of Palace’s spare crowns on my head, recovered from a Museum just for the occasion, King James having absconded with the more modern version, it took my breath away.

  Of course, the media frenzy that ensued both during and immediately afterward quickly brought me back to earth.

  But on the whole I was satisfied and the crown hadn’t even had time to warm up to my head when the first twenty of the warships I’d brought back to my homeworld moved into repair slips and a general recall of spacers and officers put on the beach at half pay by my predecessor went out.

  Their new King was calling them back into service in the King’s Own. That was what I was calling my new consolidated fleet, the King’s Own Multi-Sector Patrol Fleet.

  Hopefully, it lasted longer than the Confederation version but only time would tell.

  “Lord Tilday,” I said, taking the General’s hands between my own as I accepted his new oath to the crown and he swore to renounce all other lords before me, just like he had done not so long ago to the still-living James Vekna, and I in turn swore to give him justice for service a
nd protection for obedience.

  Which ironically, I was much better prepared to do than any king in modern history, thanks to my command of the MSP and her Tractoan lancers.

  “You’ve got the tiger by the tail now, Your Majesty. We’re all counting on you,” said the General, flashing me a not very nice smile.

  But that was okay because I flashed the other man a not very nice smile of my own.

  “I’m sure I’ll manage with fine men like yourself behind me, General,” I said heartily.

  The two of us, both noble scions of the Royal House, shared a mutually insincere smile before the General stepped back and another man stood forward.

  The line moved on as men and women I had only ever seen from a distance or who had looked down their noses or past me when I was younger, now stood in line to do me honor.

  I couldn’t wait until I was done here on the ground and could return to space.

  Maybe I was just too much the spacer and being back on a warship had brought back the itch to return to cold space, or—more likely—all the boot-licking Caprians who previously despised me openly and now all but certainly despised me in private no longer amused me.

  Either way, I couldn’t wait to leave.

  Chapter 23

  The Regional Authority

  “Point emergence!” reported Navigator Shepherd and then waited a beat, “as usual, gravity sump is negligible to nonexistent.”

  “Engines ready for burn on your order, Sir,” DuPont said sharply and then added, “I still can’t get used to this new drive system.”

  “Belay that, Helm,” I said leaning forward in my chair as the sun, asteroids and empty worlds of the star system began to fill the screen, “and communications send out our friend or foe recognition signals. We wouldn’t want to be shot by mistake.”

  “Like anyone’s going to mistake this ship for anyone but yours, Jason,” Akantha said from the fold-out seat I’d had installed into my throne on the flag bridge.