Admiral's Fall

by Luke Sky Wachter

  I didn’t either, but I wasn’t going to say that. Especially since despite our jammer tech the walls still probably had ears.

  What I did say was, “I sent a coded message to Admiral Manning, not knowing how he’ll jump and what they don’t know about our little surprise waiting with the Spindles. This evidence has at least given the Imperial Admiral reason to hesitate before taking action,” I said confidently. After all, the last time I’d encountered an Imperial fleet I’d wiped the floor with a vastly superior force.

  When no one came in the room immediately, all that was left was to wait.

  Chapter 60: Admiral’s Fall

  When the Grand Assembly, or New Regime as they were calling themselves, came back into the room almost an hour and a half later I was escorted to a set of seats at the side of the room, along with my body guards, and the Grand Assembly got back to the business of assembling.

  Or at least that’s what it looked like until they actually got through reopening and declared themselves back in session and called for a vote.

  What they were voting on wasn’t clear until the vote actually passed. At which time the Speaker turned to me.

  “Jason Montagne Vekna of Capria and Gambit, the Assembly hereby reaffirms its vote and sentences you to exile. You are to leave the Spine and, for the good of the people, never return!” Isaak Newton declared. “What the Empire or Old Confederation do with you after you leave this Assembly Hall no longer has anything to do with the New Regime.”

  “What a bunch of brave men and women I see here today,” I said drolly, despite the fact my request to link to the overhead speakers had been denied. This was already covered territory after all, and the fact they were going over it again could actually be a good sign. For varying levels of good any rate.

  “Tyrant! You are stripped of your citizenship and ordered not to return to the Spineward Sectors without permission on pain of death! Do you hear and acknowledge the will of this body?” Isaak asked harshly.

  I suppressed a yawn. “I’d just like to make clear we could have fought off the Empire together,” I declared, my voice rising to a shout in order to be heard without sound assist, even though we probably couldn’t in the long run. Either this fleet or the next one or the one after that would grind us down. All in all it looked like I’d done what I could.

  That said, I wasn’t a chump or a wide-eyed youngster who passionately believed in the government or the people to back up him up because it was the right thing to do.

  “As they say, no good deed goes unpunished—which is why I am here today. Exiled for no crime other than a desire to protect the people of the Spine!” I said.

  “If that was your intention then you failed miserably,” Speaker Isaak declared, “and, by your own standard, deserve to be judged.

  “I will let the people be the judge of that. I have worked tirelessly for the Spineward Sectors and shed blood on many occasions in its defense,” I paused and then straightened my shoulders. “Which is why I call upon any world who disagrees with this cowardly decision to impeach any delegates who voted in favor of exile, as well as the planetary leader or leaders who appointed them.”

  “Are you quite done?” asked Isaak as the delegates around the room laughed at me or, in a few cases, actually threw napkins, shoes, and in one case a scarf in my direction as they mocked me.

  “I have run my course. I’m done,” I said.

  “Then go back to Tracto if they’ll let you, and rot on that mud ball of a planet if it will have you,” sniffed Isaak.

  Turning on my heel, I ignored the shaking heads and unhappy looks of the Border Alliance members.

  I also ignored Assemblywoman Kern who spat in my direction before calling out ‘good riddance’ as well as the rest of the Anti-Droid Alliance which began chanting “Man not Machine’ as I walked past.

  With my back straight and my head up, I marched out of the room.

  It still remained to be seen if I’d leave this Monitor alive.

  Chapter 61: Admiral’s Fall II

  On my way back to the shuttle bay I picked up a company of Imperial Jacks for an escort.

  They weren’t stopping us exactly, but they clearly had orders to make sure I didn’t go anywhere except where they wanted me.

  Shortly after that, I was escorted into a small room where Admiral Davenport was waiting for me.

  “Should I take it that last little bit was merely a bit of grandstanding for the cameras and this is the real meeting?” I asked, unable to keep from tensing up.

  “Have your men wait outside,” he said.

  I eyed the Jacks standing along the wall behind him. Clearly I was to be the only one.

  “Everyone but Harpsinger can leave,” I said.

  “But, Sir,” objected Sean D’Argeant.

  I held up a hand, stifling the protest.

  “Go,” I commanded.

  The armsmen masquerading as Lancers departed.

  “The lawyer also,” said Davenport while the armsmen were still filing out of the room.

  “Really?”

  “Now,” said Davenport.

  “Harpsinger,” I said, looking over at the other man.

  Finally, we were alone.

  Well, except for the Imperial Admiral and his men. I was alone.

  “You have me at a disadvantage. What do you want?” I asked.

  “I suspect there’s more truth to events at Tracto than I would like to discover, although I doubt it’s nearly as much as you’re proposing, but your threats of force are laughable,” said Davenport.

  “Actually I think I’m right on the money on this one,” I said with a shrug. “But we can agree to disagree about both the Bugs and the power of my Fleet if it will save lives in the short term.”

  “I’m not interested in the short-term. The Empire is taking 28th Provisional as its newest Province. It's small but will be the first expansion, and frankly the first piece of good news since this interminable war with the Gorgons started,” said Magnus Davenport, “what I’m after is a long-term solution—and I will have it.”

  “I couldn't care less about the 28th, especially since they seem to have welcomed you guys with open arms anyway and,” I added with a shrug, “I’m almost always open to a reasonable compromise.”

  “I’m glad you’re happy, but I’m not here to be reasonable and I could not care less what a man like you thinks about what we’re doing, Admiral Montagne,” Davenport said bleakly.

  “Understood,” I said, feeling this wasn’t the time to be flippant.

  “These are my terms and you can take them, or leave them and we can have a nice big old space battle,” Admiral Magnus said, “first you will return to Tracto and you will stay there until no one in the Empire remembers your name. After that it matters not to me what you do so long as you stay out of Imperial territory.”

  “Considering my reception here, that’s not a problem,” I said.

  “Stop speaking,” said Admiral Magnus.

  I just looked at him silently. It sounded like I was getting out of here with my life. Now it just remained to see how much of a poisoned pill I was expected to swallow.

  “Next, Imperial pride demands the return of both our Command Carriers, in whatever condition they are in currently, along with every other Imperial warship you’ve captured in the Spine. That’s non-negotiable,” said the Admiral.

  “The Command Carriers…” I said, calculating silently. We’d already got all the tech insights we needed from them and since we weren’t planning to return them to service it's not like we were losing too much. Still, it grated.

  “I came here in the Furious Phoenix. I’ll leave on it and return every other Imperial hull we captured,” I offered, “besides, it's so covered in duralloy at this point you can hardly tell it’s a—”

  “I said my terms are non-negotiable and that’s what they are. Your continued survival is a stain upon the Empire and if it weren’t for other considerations I would gut you where yo
u stand, destroy your fleet, and the galaxy would have one less group of neo-barbs,” Magnus Davenport said seriously. “You will not retain one single mono-locsium hull or else I’ll ignore those considerations and launch a full-scale invasion of Tracto, claim its massive trillium deposits as the largest jewel of our new province, and give the people back in the Empire the red meat they’ve been waiting for.”

  I considered this in silence and then swallowed around a suddenly dry throat, realizing I might have less leverage than I’d thought.

  “I could just hide out in Gambit,” I said.

  “Are we done here?” he asked, standing up and moving around his table toward the door.

  My lip curled and I ground my teeth together. “No. Stay. The Phoenix is yours,” I said, suppressing the surge of anger and pain at losing that ship. The Phoenix meant more to me than any other except the Lucky Clover.

  Magnus Davenport hesitated before returning to his seat with a thump. “Let’s be clear. I knew where this mobile governmental center was at before it came here, and it was a lot harder to find than a stationary star system,” said the Imperial Admiral, “this is me being lenient. Make me fight for what is ours and things will go much harder. There will never again be such an offer on the table. You will die and so will all your people. I’ll see to it personally even if it costs me my command and opportunity for advancement,” the Admiral said humorlessly.

  From his tone and affect, I trusted what he was saying to be true.

  “Right now my superiors want a quick win and immediate resolution to the black eye they’ve taken in the Spine. If I am forced to fight, delay, and take losses, then nothing less than your death and the enslavement of entire Tracto-an population as indentured servants to be sold to various companies in the Empire will suffice,” said Davenport.

  “I’m glad we’re clear on just what this is,” I said. This was nothing more than a shakedown. But, as they said: to the victor goes the spoils. And right now I held the losing hand.

  The only question was if this guy was serious or if this was just another prelude. Still, the ask could have been a lot worse. Like, say, all of those captured Battleships and other hulls I’d been picking up along the way. There really weren’t that many Imperial ships in my possession, even if they were the most advanced by any reasonable measure.

  “Yes or no?” asked Magnus Davenport.

  “Done. Yes,” I said quickly, “send me the location and your ships will be returned to you.”

  Abandoned by my supposed allies and without the means or forces to fight off yet another Imperial fleet with just the MSP alone I really had no choice. Those Marines waiting in a nearby star system were really just a Hail Mary and I didn’t want to turn it into a forlorn hope.

  If it would save my spacers and the people in Tracto, I had no choice.

  Admiral Magnus Davenport smirked for the first time since I’d met him. “As a sign of good faith you can turn the Furious Phoenix over to us right now,” said the Admiral.

  I flushed with humiliation. The man knew the Phoenix was my flagship and he was just twisting the knife.

  “Please remember I’m doing you a favor here,” he said.

  “Don’t roofie me and call it romance,” I replied coldly.

  “Another Imperial Admiral at another time, and everyone you know would die. I call that doing you a great favor,” said Davenport.

  “You’re aware that’s my flagship,” I said tightly

  “Of course I am,” Davenport said with a humorless smile, “and the more I see it hurts you. The more determined I am to take it back. Consider this just a tithe of what the Empire owes you.”

  “You came to invade our space. Not the other way around. So excuse me if suddenly rolling the dice is sounding a lot more tenable,” I said through gritted teeth.

  “Have you ever danced with the devil by the pale moonlight?” asked Davenport with eyes like steel. “Our house motto,” he explained, un-belting his knife and placing it, sheath and all, on the table.

  Despite my anger, whatever this was a prelude for I wanted no part in it.

  Humiliated but with no choice, I called Commodore Laurent and informed him we needed to hand over the Phoenix and that he and his crew were to vacate the ship—after they had wiped the computers—and then turn over his ship to the Empire..

  “This has been a real pleasure,” Davenport said with smug satisfaction.

  “Think nothing of it,” I said.

  The Imperial waved his hand at the door. “Feel free to leave anytime,” he said.

  With a stiff spine, I marched out of the room.

  I hadn’t been this humiliated since the last time I was abused by my Montagne cousins on Capria.

  ******************************************************************************

  The imperial admiral watched with a faint smile on his face as the cause of so much trouble for the empire and him personally was escorted out of the room. The moment the interloper was escorted from the room his expression stilled.

  Magnus turned to his aide.

  “Make a note,” he said his voice stern and eyes like space ice.

  “Of course, Sir,” said the aide.

  “Remind me to place a call to Cousin Templeton to place an order for battleship from… what was that world again that resisted our task force?” said Magnus Davenport.

  The aide pulled out a pad and then looked up.

  “Capria, Sir. Which just so happens to be the homeworld of the rebel Admiral who Buged Cornwallis,” said the Aide.

  “Fascinating. As I recall that miserable excuse for a core-world had halfway decent warships and shipyard complex,” Davenport mused dryly.

  “Yes, Sir,” replied the aide.

  “Once we return to the empire make sure to place an order through my cousin. I believe House Davenport is going to making a rather large purchase,” the Admiral said baring his teeth.

  “If I may be so bold, Sir. Why?” the other officer asked with a frown, “while decent platforms they’re still second rate designs at best not nearly up to imperial specs in my opinion, Sir.”

  “Everyone involved in the decision to resist the empire must be punished, Lieutenant. Besides Davenport could use the ships. We'll offer to pay half upfront of course,” said the Admiral.

  “I don’t understand how funneling money into a third rate world to purchase second rate battleships hurts them and helps the empire but that’s no doubt why I’m not an Admiral. I’ll be sure to make the note, Sir,” said the Aide.

  “Your mind’s just not creative enough yet, Lieutenant. But by the time I’m done with you, you’ll be a proper credit to the imperial navy,” Davenport said.

  Chapter 62: Isaak’s Rage

  “He let him walk? What do you mean, HE LET HIM WALK?!” shouted Isaak.

  “Sorry, sir, but that’s the way it went down,” advised his Military Attaché.

  “Just what do you think I—” the swish of a door sliding open interrupted his tirade.

  The sight of the Imperial Admiral, Magnus Davenport, stepping into the room accompanied by his Imperial Marine Jacks stopped him cold

  “Admiral Davenport, what a pleasant surprise,” Isaak managed to muster up some enthusiasm to his greeting, “my aide was just telling me you let the Weapons of Mass Destruction violator walk out of this monitor scot free. But I assured him he was wrong. Completely and utterly—”

  At the sudden deathly look the Imperial Admiral sent his way, Isaak Newton snapped his mouth shut.

  “You are nothing but a provincial politician and up-jumped rebel leader. Who are you to question an Imperial Admiral in the course of his duties?” Magnus barked.

  “My apologies. My sincerest apologies, Lord Admiral!” Isaak immediately fell all over himself apologizing. “I merely sought to understand, not question. I hate that Montagne with a fiery passion and I allowed my own small-minded mindset to take me where I should not have gone!”

  Magnus Davenport loo
ked at him with slitted eyes. “That Admiral Montagne is twice the man you’ll ever be. He at least could look me in the eye!” said the Imperial Admiral.

  Isaak’s gaze snapped up to meet that of the Admiral, and what he saw left him cold.

  Still seeing the withering contempt the Imperial held him in, he had no choice but to take a risk. “Please explain your thinking. We had him in our grasp, Lord Admiral. He came willingly and delivered himself,” Isaak finally argued, realizing that if he didn’t redeem himself in some way he was cutting his own rope, so he might as well take a risk.

  Magnus Davenport sneered. “Yes, exactly, a man who has defeated two Imperial fleets and countless Droids, pirates and local warlords—a battle-tested veteran, in other words—delivered himself here just like that. Strolling into this Monitor so very easily that one might have thought he was here by invitation instead of for war crimes,” Magnus Davenport.

  “But, sir, whatever he might be, his fleet is weak; he can’t possibly stand up to the full might and power of the 5th Battle Fleet and the Empire!” Isaak said urgently.

  “Enough! Do you take me for a fool?” Magnus Davenport demanded.

  Isaak gulped and fell silent.

  “Manning and your First Fleet have acknowledged your orders in every official communication and, according to you, your government has officially surrendered and maintains no thoughts of rebellious sentiment,” said the Admiral.

  “We have!” Isaak exclaimed in agitation.

  “How I wish I could believe that,” Magnus sneered.

  “It’s the space gods honest truth,” cried Isaak.

  “Yet when your First Fleet was ordered to jump to Aegis Star System and turn over their ships to Front Admiral Featherby, suddenly your Manning has engine trouble,” Magnus said coldly.

  “You understand how these things are. Until we are released there will be inevitable tensions. Just put yourself in their shoes. It doesn’t matter how many orders I issue; I can speak until I’m blue in the face, but there’s only so much I can do from this monitor,” Isaak tried to reason with the other man. “Think about this situation clearly.”