Admiral's Throne

by Luke Sky Wachter

“My armrest was lumpy. Please let me think,” I said shortly.

  There was nothing for it. It was get in there, blast them, and get out. Or spend a few days trying to wear down the individual boring beetles and boarding bugs with point defense fire, and probably still end up being boarded. All the while, the Mothership got closer and closer to a habitable planet.

  Was that a risk I was willing to take?

  The answer was a clear ‘no’, which left me back with unpalatable option one and unpalatable option two.

  In the end, I went with space mines followed in by the battleships with the Lucky Clover in the lead. I figured if a super-battleship with incredible point defense levels like the Clover and a full lancer complement couldn’t handle a few boarding bugs, we were in the wrong business. Better we find out now than after we’d committed to multiple engagements all over the various sectors of the Spine.

  “Remember, I want the gunboats to follow along right behind us. The rest of the fleet is to hang back and only come in if and when we need help. Otherwise, all I want them to do is circle around the outer circle of boring beetles and boarding bugs and use their lasers to thin them out,” I instructed.

  “Aye, Sir,” replied Laurent.

  “We’re ready to go in with you, Sir,” said Druid.

  “Let’s to this,” I said.

  Chapter 37

  Hot Cross V - Smash and Grab II

  Ahead of us, the majority of the mines went off early as they were sniffed out by the bugs but several got through, lighting off their proximity fuses and blowing large gaping holes in the side of the harvesters.

  Nothing reached the Mothership.

  “Alright, Mr. DuPont, lead us in,” I said.

  “Not a problem, Sir,” the Helmsman said confidently.

  At first, everything was smooth sailing and then we started detecting boarding bugs at short range and closing fast.

  “Boring beetles are igniting their sub-light engines,” reported Tactical, “engaging point defense!”

  First in ones and twos then in a steady drumbeat, plasma balls started shooting out the side of the ships as the plasma cannons slowly stepped up to a continuous rate of fire.

  “I didn’t realize there were quite so many of them,” said my First Officer looking a little pale as the first boarding bug splattered against the forward shields.

  “Steady on, man,” I instructed.

  With the Lucky Clover out front to take the majority of the brunt, the battleships following along behind us were doing better.

  Then the sensor team must have recalibrated something because the main-screen updated from one second to the next, going from around a hundred small contacts to now where it was showing over a thousand boarding bugs directly in the path between us and the Mothership.

  “Sensors!” I exclaimed.

  “Sorry, Sir,” the Sensor Officer said hastily, “we recently discovered the bugs don’t just have one kind of stealth mutation. They have two!”

  Wanting to blame all my current woes on the hapless Sensor Officer when I knew darned well if anyone was at fault it had to be me, I glared at the screen and started chewing my lower lip.

  We were going to get through this.

  Then we were within range of the Clover’s main cannon.

  “HPC is charged and ready to fire. We’re just waiting on your order, Sir!” Spalding chortled, clapping the weaponeer on the shoulder in his obvious excitement.

  I blinked, realizing the Commodore was back on the bridge only after he spoke.

  Then the chain guns started firing.

  “Danger close! Danger close! Bugs are starting to penetrate the shields,” reported Tactical as the nose of the Lucky Clover slid into the dense concentration of bugs right between us and the Mothership.

  “Fire!” I ordered.

  “Firing now,” said Spalding, interrupted halfway through with the sudden thrumming and backward motion that always accompanied the firing of the hyper-plasma cannon.

  The glowing streak of superheated materials smashed a streak through the miniature space bugs, struck the front end of the Mothership and vaporized the forward third of the largest bugship in the Swarm.

  A wild cheer went up as the Mothership started spewing atmosphere and a gush of deep green into space.

  “Do you think we got the Queen?” asked the XO.

  “I don’t know and I don’t care. Fire again as soon as she’s charged and finish that Mothership,” I said pumping a fist into the air.

  Our next aim destroyed the back end of the Mothership with a glancing hit and then the battleships accompanying the Clover turned as one and unleashed a rolling broadside.

  The broadside finished the Mothership, causing it to fall completely apart, spreading out across the battlespace as it also took a bite out of the harvesters.

  As if driven insane by the loss of their Queen, the harvesters immediately began firing on everything around them, including each other.

  “I think it’s safe to say we got the Queen,” I said with satisfaction. That went a lot easier than expected. Considering the improvements to the individual bugs and the various stealth coatings, I thought the Mothership would prove to be something special.

  “Switching targets to the largest surviving harvester,” reported Tactical.

  “Rear Admiral Druid indicates his forces will target the rest of the harvesters,” reported Coms.

  “We’ve got bugs on the hull!” reported Damage Control.

  “Deploy Lancers to clean them off,” I immediately snapped.

  Then a thought occurred to me.

  “And somebody check on my wife!” I said, looking around wildly and realizing she wasn’t on the bridge.

  Even money said she was suited up and about to launch herself on the hull to go fight bugs.

  It took less than fifteen minutes to finish off the harvesters and a good chunk of the scouts. With the last major bug asset inside this star system neutralized, I gave the order to withdraw.

  The Clover wasn’t the only warship with a bug problem, and now that their head had been cut off and the guts of the Swarm ripped out, the small fry could be swept up at our leisure.

  Engines flaring, the battleships followed the Lucky Clover out of the middle of the Swarm, while at the same time our destroyers and cruisers continued to circle around the savaged and devastated Swarm in an ever-tightening circle, lasers firing.

  A few hours later, it was all over but the crying.

  As many as several hundred stealth beetles and boarding bugs may have escaped the net but everything down to the size of a scout-ship had been destroyed.

  Having completed our main mission, I ordered the Fleet back into Hot Cross Prime’s orbit.

  Chapter 38

  Hot Cross VI – Clean Up and Reward

  “I’ve got half a dozen worlds all over the Spine requesting relief. Half of them have already received a copy of our terms and already signed the contract,” reported Steiner.

  “Looks like we’re going to be busy for a bit,” I said with relish.

  It was not as though the thought of six worlds being attacked by bugs filled me with joy. But being back in battle just seemed to make everything more alive and nothing beat a post-battle win.

  Well… one where I didn’t have to stare at a massive casualty list, at least, the thought of which caused me to grimace.

  “Good work. Please sort the list for me and prepare options. While you’re at it, could you please get me an updated casualty list,” I said.

  Her mood dampened and then she rallied.

  “Of course, Sir,” she said simply.

  “In the meantime, I have that call with the Prime-Lord ready whenever you are,” she said.

  “Put him through,” I said.

  “King Jason, please let me be the first to congratulate you on your astounding victory and offer you the gratitude of a grateful star nation. You will go down in Hot
Cross history books as the man who saved our world. A legend in your own time,” said Prime-Lord Harkor Fentin of House Mudd with a pleased expression as he verbally lathered me up, and why shouldn’t he?

  I mean, I had just saved his homeworld from certain doom. Even if we pulled out right now, while the body count might rise and they could have a hairy moment or two, the odds were they could handle a few dozen scattered boarding bugs and boring beetles. It might be costly but they could do it.

  “I’m so glad to hear that, Prime-Lord,” I said with a grin, “you don’t know how worried I was that you weren’t calling to give your congratulations but to give your apologies instead.”

  “Apologies?” the Prime-Lord looked taken aback. Realization seemed to dawn.

  “Er. I didn’t realize Caprians were so business-minded that they couldn’t take a moment to enjoy the festivities. Our whole world is celebrating our deliverance from a genocidal event,” he chided.

  “I always say no time like the present to get the irritating parts of any transaction out of the way,” I said with a grin, “and let me tell you. As soon as your world tenders full payment for services rendered, my spacers are more than ready for me to negotiate a little R&R time so they can go down and take part in those festivities of yours.”

  The Prime-Lord’s expression immediately stiffened.

  “Er…” he repeated.

  “And as a thank you for prompt payment, I am also prepared to detach the same heavy cruiser and two destroyer squadrons that were protecting your homeworld, while the rest of the fleet was away dealing with the Swarm, for a two-week complimentary patrol to help you get your SDF back off the ground and deal with any residual bug sign that might crop up in your star system,” I said, projecting pure happiness at his supposed cooperation.

  “And let me assure you that my men are prepared to drop a lot of credits on your planet. You know how spacers are after a battle, they’re ready eager and willing to help kickstart your planetary economy with a good celebration just like the one you already seem to have going,” I finished.

  “Yes, with credits we’d have already paid you,” groused the Prime-Lord.

  “Don’t be like that. Think of all the children saved and just how many of those credits you oh so wisely spent on defense will be immediately flowing back into your economy,” I scolded mildly.

  The Prime-Lord gave me a flat look.

  “I was rather expecting, considering your already formidable fee, that a large flotilla or even your entire fleet would take at least a couple weeks to patrol our system in case of a bug resurgence. Not just a cruiser and a couple squadrons of destroyers totaling fewer than ten ships,” said the Prime-Lord.

  “Alas, we would, but your world is merely the first in a long list of star systems that desperately need our aid. Every day extra we spend in a star system is another world slashed and burned by the bugs,” I said regretfully, “don’t worry, the system patrol force we leave behind will be more than up to the task.”

  The Prime-Lord looked like he’d just tasted something bitter.

  “It’s not that we don’t appreciate your effort,” he admitted, “and we certainly want whatever size patrol you can spare. The bigger the better. But the problem is… I guess there’s just no easy way to say it,” he said.

  “It’s regarding the payment, isn’t it,” I said sympathetically.

  He looked at me with surprise.

  “I’m so glad you understand. We can pay part of it now but unfortunately, we just don’t keep that kind of cash on hand,” the Prime-Lord said in relief.

  “That’s a real shame,” I sighed.

  “Now I know,” he said raising a hand, “that you stipulated all payments be made in Confederation credits. If you’re willing to compromise and accept Hot Cross Bucks in lieu of credits, I think we can work something out,” he said.

  And let you monkey around with the exchange rate while you print off enough Bucks to deflate the currency and pay me off at a fraction of what you owe, I thought cynically.

  “No Hot Cross Bucks,” I said, silently thinking not just ‘no’ but really no blasted way.

  The Prime-Lord splayed his hands helplessly.

  “I’m afraid at this time I can only offer you pennies on the dollar then. At best, I can do maybe 15% of the bill up front,” he said.

  “This is regretful,” I said, shaking my head.

  “I’m sure we can work out some kind of payment plan that will leave all parties satisfied,” Prime-Lord Harkor said.

  “I’d hoped it wouldn’t come to this. I’d heard so many good things about your world yet this is the way House Mudd settles its accounts. Regretful. Really regretful,” I said.

  “I don’t know what else you expected. You come in here refusing to help us unless we offer you a king’s ransom, and then don’t even check to see if we can pay. If we had it, we’d pay you, I swear. But we don’t have it. We’re too heavily invested right now to have that kind of liquid assets on hand,” Prime-Lord Harkor said looking every inch a man filled with genuine regret.

  I wasn’t buying it, not for a minute.

  “Don’t worry about it,” I said.

  “You mean that?” Harkor Fentin of House Mudd looked at me skeptically.

  He was right to do so.

  “Of course. Pay me what you can now. As soon as you get me the rest of what you owe the Multi-Sector Patrol Fleet, plus transport fees, then I’ll return the assets I’ll be holding in lieu of your full and complete payment,” I said.

  “Assets?” asked the Prime-Lord, his entire affect changing from regretful to suspicious bordering on outraged in an instant.

  “But of course! As I said when I first contacted you, please read the contract carefully. As due to our unique hyperdrive, my fleet is capable of removing even the largest system build factory, shipyard or heavy industry in lieu of payment in credits,” I said with a winning smile, “those old fixed assets that would cost too much to disassemble and move to be cost effective can, with the new Montagne transportation system, be transported halfway across the galaxy at a fraction of the previous cost. No disassembly required! Only an increase in hyperfuel consumption by a few orders of magnitude.”

  “Unacceptable,” snapped the Prime-Lord, “do you realize that the reason we can’t pay you is exactly because we’ve invested so heavily in our system’s heavy industry? If you take that from us, not only will we be out the original loan amount but our star system won’t have the capability of purchasing another. Our economy, already hard hit by the bugs, will be sent into a tailspin we won’t soon recover from!”

  “It’s not like I’m looking to take everything. Just one or two factory complexes,” I said.

  “One or two! We only have three orbital factories and one of them was heavily torn up by the bugs,” said the Prime-Lord.

  “Yes, we won’t be taking that one. As you say, your star system needs something to rebuild with so you can clear what you owe us. You have my sympathies for finding yourselves in a touchy situation and I promise to do everything I can to make this as painless a transition as possible,” I said.

  “Blast your sympathies! You’re consigning millions to a state of permanent poverty with your actions,” raged the Prime-Lord.

  “Better poverty than death,” I said bluntly.

  The Prime-Lord turned red in the face.

  “Now while I realize it isn’t much, if any of your people find themselves out of work with the factories leaving Hot Cross, I will be posting a list of positions we need filled and they can always apply for a job on Tracto where the factories are moving to,” I said piously.

  “If you were standing in front of me, I’d spit in your face,” said the Prime-Lord, revealing his true colors at last.

  I, on the other hand, continued to play amicable and most importantly, dumb.

  “So, you’re saying you don’t want me to leave the in-system patrol? I just want to be clear
,” I said.

  The Prime-Lord’s cheeks puffed and he looked like he was about to burst.

  “No. We need those ships or people will die that didn’t need to,” he said.

  “Excellent. It seems there will be no spitting or wriggling out of debts today. I’ll be sure to have the commander of the task group I’m leaving behind coordinate with the head of your SDF,” I said with a nod, “and don’t worry, I’ll leave strict orders to stay the full two weeks so long as they are not maligned as I have been here today,” I added, my eyes boring into the Prime-Lord, “I assure you I am much more sensitive about how my people are treated than I am regarding myself.”

  “Hot Cross will extend your patrol every courtesy,” the Prime-Lord bit out, “and we will remember your actions here today, both good and bad.”

  “That’s what I want to hear. Make sure your people remember today and remember it well the next time they’re asked to sign a bill or treaty screwing over the men and women who fought to keep your star system free when the Empire was at the gates,” I said coldly.

  The Prime-Lord cut the channel.

  Later that day, when the Jump Spindles were done charging, we jumped out of Hot Cross star system with not one but two orbital factory complexes, the two newest and least heavily damaged complexes.

  Chapter 39

  The Bug Campaign II

  Over the next two weeks, we fell into a sort of rhythm, jumping from sector to sector using the com-stat network and our Jump Spindles for finding and transporting a rapid response force on site at need.

  None of the worlds we went to had a bug infestation as large as the one in Hot Cross; the Confederation and Sector Guards were dealing with most of those, which left us helping out those worlds too small or too politically unconnected to wrangle a boost to their defense force.

  The Confederation Flotilla and local Sector Guards could only be so many places at once while the Elder Jump Spindles allowed us to jump all over the place, saving several middle rung worlds that would have otherwise been left uncovered.