Spineward Sectors 6: Admiral's Spine

by Luke Sky Wachter

  I looked at him flatly. “I hardly think a couple of corvettes and armed pirate freighters compares to battleships and an Imperial cruiser, do you?” I asked dryly.

  Laurent grinned and the tense moment of before, while we had contemplated Imperial machinations, was broken.

  “I heard they had to deal with a destroyer and corvette squadron as well,” Laurent remarked.

  “They had help,” I started to say dismissively but then realized how churlish that might seem. It’s not that I wanted to be deliberately dismissive of the other man’s accomplishments or, Space Gods forbid, was actually jealous. It’s just that I had bigger fish to fry right then with this whole ‘droid invasion’ nonsense. “Not that they knew help was coming,” I added with painful honesty, “so I guess rather than dismissing him, or at least giving the man some kind of reprimand, I’ll have to give him and his crew some kind of medal.”

  “Probably best,” Laurent agreed.

  “And on that sour note, we might as well turn some lemons into lemonade and have a ceremony for the rest of the Fleet as well,” I said and Laurent looked at me questioningly, “I mean we just fought a murdering big space battle—multiple space battles, for those of us who had to deal with keeping those Bug Harvesters away from Tracto until we were ready to strike,” I explained and Laurent nodded in agreement, his face taking on a serious cast. Which wasn’t surprising; he’d been there right along with me as we got the Heavy Cruiser from Easy Haven that we’d been using all but shot out from under us.

  “Yes, the whole fleet’s fought hard. From those of us in the warships all the way back to Gambit and Easy Haven where they got us outfitted and back out the door and ready to fight in record time,” Laurent said, pursing his lips.

  I was surprised at the mention of Easy Haven. Gambit I might have expected but Easy Haven hadn’t been on the top of my Christmas list lately after the stunt they’d pulled back in Sector Central, letting me wait to be executed until the last possible moment—and then only acting because Spalding had pulled out all the stops and forced the situation.

  “McCruise and her people have done well,” I agreed.

  “I wasn’t just thinking about the Captain,” Laurent clarified, “but also all the techs and repair workers who got the Little Gift and McCruise’s destroyer squadron ready.”

  “There’s more than enough credit to go around, that’s for sure,” I agreed mildly, fighting for all I was worth to keep my teeth from clenching and my hands from fisting. I knew I wasn’t at my most rational when it came to the Easy Haven contingent and that I needed to let bygones be bygones.

  I mean when it came right down to it, they’d never refused me anything I’d asked of them. And under LeGodat’s command they’d sent the lion’s share of their firepower out to back me up against Jean Luc and the Bug threat.”

  “I think a reward ceremony where their Admiral personally congratulates them and pins a metal or unit commendation on them will work wonders to help boost morale,” Laurent said judiciously, “a fine idea, sir.”

  I looked at the other man impassively, not all that pleased with my off handed comment about needing to give Middleton a medal being turned into the need for me to become the ring master to a great big dog and pony show but not able to find anything wrong with the suggestion either. Our men had fought and fought hard, never once failing when asked. That sort of courage and loyalty needed to be rewarded and if a few medals recognizing this fact needed to be handed out by me personally, well, it was the least I could do.

  It didn’t make me any happier about getting all tricked up, having to memorize speeches, and then stand in line for hours on end handing out medals. But such was the life of an Admiral, and as I’d rather be an Admiral than be dead, I honestly had nothing to complain about.

  “Check our schedule and set it up,” I said with a sigh, “our men deserve nothing but the best, so if our hydroponics section is up for it,” the Captain and I shared a sly look in remembrance of a time not that long ago when the ship we were on wouldn’t have been able to handle it, “let’s try and have a bit of a party—including cake and some decent food.”

  “I’ll get on it, sir,” the Flag Captain said. He looked at me seriously, “Is there anything else I ought to be aware of?”

  I shook my head, “You’re free to make your escape,” I said glumly, “I’ve spoken with the Representative, Captain Middleton, and now you. After this I get to track down my wife and find out what all’s been going on in my absence. I’m sure that after this meeting there will be more to tell, but until then we’re good." I pursed my lips and then frowned at him, “Unless there’s anything you had that I needed to know?”

  “I wanted to give you the casualty lists and go over a few field promotions I’d like to hand out to cover the holes that have opened up, but it’s nothing that can’t wait if the Lady Akantha needs you,” Laurent stated.

  I closed my eyes, reading a tally of the dead and hospitalized wasn’t exactly my idea of a great way to spend your first few hours out of sick bay but what I wanted usually didn’t tend to enter the picture.

  “No, that’s alright,” I said wearily, “we can go over the casualties now.”

  “Only if you’re sure, Sir,” Laurent said slowly, “I know I speak for all of the men when I say that you’re just out of sick bay and we want the Lady kept happy.”

  “That second part more than the first, eh?” I shook my head at the obviousness of it all.

  Laurent ducked his head, trying and failing to hide a smile. “I didn’t say that, Admiral, you did,” he chuckled.

  “I’d say ‘get out of here’ but we have those lists to go over,” I said with a smile of my own, but one that slowly faded.

  “Right then, sir,” Laurent said his face getting serious, “let’s just go over this now, so you can get some rest afterwards.”

  “Nice thought, but I’m afraid there will be no rest for the weary. What peace I can find around here is generally found in a hospital bed and there’s been precious little to be found even there lately,” I said sourly.

  Laurent winced and then shook it off. “The burdens of command, Sir. So how about those lists?” he said activating his data slate and squirting me over the file. “As you can see, they are broken down both alphabetically and by ship. But why don’t we start by ship and go from there?”

  I suppressed a sigh and tried to focus on the list of dead and wounded. The least I could do was acknowledge each and every man and woman who had given the ultimate sacrifice on my orders and those that were still in sickbay deserved consideration as well.

  Chapter 6: Taking it Easy

  After stepping outside the conference room, I stopped and cracked my back.

  “Ye Space Gods,” I sighed, knowing I could use a break. Then my face brightened as I remembered that despite what both Ambassadors and my own officer’s seemed to think, I was still in charge of this lash-up.

  My stomach growled, offering its own encouragement as the door behind me cycled closed and then open again.

  “I think I’ll just head on down to the mess hall,” I said out-loud and to no one in particular.

  “Did you say something, Sir?” Laurent asked following me out of the conference room.

  I suppressed a frown. “Nothing at all,” I assured him.

  The smirks appeared as if by magic on the faces of the quad of lancers posed in a box like formation: one on either side of the conference door and another pair standing opposite them against the blank duralloy wall facing the conference room.

  Laurent glanced at the Lancers and back at me before shaking his head. “As you say, Sir,” the ship Captain said clearly not believing a word of my denial but just as clearly with other tasks he’d rather be about than pinning down his superior officer caught in a little white lie.

  “Carry on, Cedric,” I shook my head and then before I could be dragged back into any more conference room business I turned and hurried off down the corridor.

/>   Behind me I heard the clunk-clunk-clunk of my battle-suited bodyguards. I almost gritted my teeth, disliking the idea of being followed around everywhere I went. The whole reason for getting out of that room had been so that I could be alone, but ever since I’d been almost killed—twice—by the Pirate King, my happily belated Uncle Jean Luc, they’d been almost fanatical in following me around. As I thought this I very deliberately didn’t think of that other title—one that my ‘Uncle’ most definitely didn’t deserve.

  Mother! How could you?! I seethed silently

  Blast that man; I hoped his spirit rotted in cold space for an eternity, all alone in the night. I mean he’d already been eaten alive, so I figured a few millennia of essentially solitary confinement among the stars…

  “The lift, Warlord,” the lancer just behind me to my right said.

  “Wha—” I cut myself off, realizing I’d just stepped right past the lift without even seeing it. Forcing a smile I thanked the Lancer before turning on my heel and entering the lift.

  Upon arriving in the mess hall I was once again taken in by its size. Even though it was a different mess hall on a different ship, it was strikingly similar to that of the Lucky Clover. Which of course it would be as the Armor Prince was a sister-battleship of my old ship.

  Stepping into the hall was like stepping through a barrier of sound; one moment all was relatively quiet, and the next the yammering voices of off-duty spacers filled my ears.

  Normally I took my meals in private, but after nearly dying and then being accosted by everyone who thought it was a sweet idea to shake the tree that was me, the Admiral, in hopes of shaking something loose while I was still recovering…I very deliberately didn’t think of either the Ambassador or my lovable wife, but right now I wanted to make an exception.

  I’d nearly died after all and just won the biggest battle of my life. For some reason I just wanted to take a moment away from all the pressures of high command and just surround myself with a sea of humanity.

  My stomach grumbled again.

  And fill the yawning chasm within my belly at the same time of course. Maybe it was too much to ask but I figured I was entitled.

  Just a quick meal, I told myself, stepping up to the beginning of the line of hungry men and crew women and grabbing a plate.

  Following after the crewman in front of me, I happily loaded up my plate on anything that looked half way edible. It’s not quite up to what I’m used to eating, I thought critically. Our long patrol outside the system destroying Bugs had cost us all but one of our hydroponics gardens, and that had really cut into the good-food-o-meter.

  I was about half way down the line, humming happily to myself and feeling part of the team when I realized there was a growing circle of silence around me.

  I looked up and saw more than half the eyes of the mess hall had been turned my way, with even more being jostled by their friends and comrades to turn and gander at the Admiral eating with the regular crew.

  “Carry on, men!” I said cheerfully ignoring that a good quarter to a third of the people in the hall were, in fact, women.

  Unfortunately, no one ‘carried on’ like I’d instructed. And while they quickly stood aside as I meandered my way over to an empty bench to put my food tray down, heads continued to turn and follow me.

  Uncomfortable with the scrutiny, when I’d come down here specifically to feel like part of the group, I pasted on a confident smile and sat down to eat.

  I hadn’t gotten the first bite of food past my mouth and down into the belly when a crew-woman stood up from her own seat and walked over purposefully.

  Not knowing if she was going to leap on me, or if I was about to be called upon to verbally defend myself I and hastily swallowed a mouthful of only half eaten food.

  “Yes, spacer?” I inquired, cocking an eyebrow at her politely.

  “Sir, I—” she said her jaw muscles bunching. Then she hesitated and stopped to take a breath.

  I continued to meet her gaze, trying for my best to appear confident and yet non-confrontational.

  “It’s okay, crewman,” I assured her when the pause started to grow uncomfortable and then added, “I don’t bite." Not unless I’m under attack and lacking a better weapon on hand, I silently added, in that case all bets were off. Still, I always figured that a little disinformation among the masses never hurt.

  “I just wanted to say,” she looked to either side of her for a moment, “that is, I mean…we’re glad you’re alright, Admiral. A lot of us were worried when we heard you were sent over to sickbay. It’s good—really good—to see you up and about,” she ended on a feverish note.

  “You are?” I said taken aback. “I mean, thank you, spacer." I finished, feeling almost blown away by the words, “I know we lost a lot of good people, and frankly I wouldn’t have been upset if there was more than a little unhappiness about that. But we only did what I thought was right and—”

  “Some of us wondered, Admiral, especially after losing the Clover and then fighting wave after wave of Bug Harvesters,” the young crew-woman burst in. “But we did it, sir,” she said, her eyes glowing, “and now the Pirates are dead or on the run and the Bugs are finished. Finished, Admiral! We did that, all of us, and you were the only one who believed we could do it, Sir." She stopped and colored, “Except for those of us here, of course—I mean it was rough at times and we wondered, but we knew you’d carry us through in the end. It’s all those Core Worlders, and secret pirate sympathizers, and stupid politicians, who think they’re dashing and handsome and, as if they were like a holo-vid, who didn’t think we could do it, that I’m talking about. But with you at the helm and the Border Worlds behind us, like you’ve said, even they can’t stop us any longer!”

  “Err,” the word felt strangled even as I said it. I tugged on the collar of my uniform to get some air. This was turning out to be far from the relaxing little piece of camaraderie I’d been expecting but I told myself to buck up and smile.

  “An Admiral’s work is never done,” I said smoothly—or at least as smoothly as I could. My words had an intended double meaning in this particular instance, and almost instinctively my back straightened as my training kicked in, “We’re making links with worlds all over the place,” I continued, being as deliberately vague as possible, “it is, however, an unfortunate fact of life that new threats always seem to be cropping up.” I finished with a touch more emotion in my voice than I’d intended.

  “Like I said: it’s good to see you back on your feet,” the crewwoman said awkwardly.

  I nodded and then feeling as if this somehow wasn’t quite enough, I drew myself up and snapped off a salute.

  When it seemed like half the mess hall stood up to return it, I knew I’d made the right call.

  With a smile and a wave I casually dropped my napkin over my uneaten food, palmed a bread roll and headed for the door.

  Mentally I tallied up my time in the mess hall; Increased Morale: check; Admiral’s Empty Belly: still a raging black hole in need of filling.

  Plastic media smile in place, I hurried out of the mess hall as fast as dignity would allow, consoling myself that at least I’d snagged a roll.

  With a sigh I looked down at the roll and knew without a doubt that it wouldn’t be enough.

  Chapter 7: Matrimonial Harmony

  Striding into what passed for the Admiral’s Quarters on this ship, I paused after the doors slid shut finally able to finish my roll. Savoring this short moment where I didn’t have to worry about the eyes of the crew, ambassadors, Lancer bodyguards, or pretending to be a great—or at least not incompetent—leader, I wolfed down the roll in nothing flat.

  Then I heard a sound that reminded me I wasn’t alone after all. Instantly suspicious, my mind leapt to Parliamentary assassins in the pay of my late uncle. Then I heard a word in what I used to think was my mother and my own secret language, but which it turned out the entire planet of Tracto used—and I suddenly remembered that I had a wife
.

  A wife who, naturally, would invade my private quarters. After all, where else would a husband and wife sleep and live if not in the same room and quarters?

  Pasting on a smile, I walked the rest of the way in.

  “Akantha, my dear,” I said, seeing my wife sitting at my work desk. It was clear she’d commandeered it and was now industriously tapping away on the screen, “It’s been far too long but finally we are together again.” Surreptitiously I wiped bread crumbs off my jacket.

  Akantha’s jaw bunched and I could see her shoulders tense as she held up a single finger.

  “So now you have time for me, do you?” she said shortly, her face still turned toward the screen as she continued tapping away and ignoring me, “I’ll speak with you after I’ve finished with this message from the doctor.”

  With a start, I noted she had a com-link attached to her ear and then sternly took myself to task. It wasn’t surprising that in the months that we’d been apart, my ‘Sword-Bearer’ had become more familiar with modern technology.

  “Doctor…is everything alright?” I asked mildly, not wanting to open myself up to any criticism for the way I’d high tailed it out of sick-bay earlier this morning.

  But of course Akantha just shook her head and pretended to ignore me.

  With a quickly muffled sigh I turned to my bed to sit down and wait. I’d seen this sort of attitude before, mostly from my female cousins at the royal school—and mostly when they wanted to punish me for being…well, me. I mean, I wasn’t exactly sure that’s what she was doing. After all, this was a girl who generally preferred pulling out her sword and waving it around before resorting to physical violence, but in either case the best policy was to either beat a hasty retreat or suffer through it. And since I wasn’t feeling particularly ready to run and hide inside my own battleship, I just stayed where I was and crossed my arms.

  As I sat there I wanted to say something to ask questions and find out exactly where we stood, but I remembered some advice my mother had given me. ‘Better to be silent and thought a fool, rather than to speak and remove all doubt,’ she had said, and when it came to women in general—and my beloved wife in particular—a truer saying had never been coined. Like a ship lost in cold space without a navigator, I would do better to study up and learn what I needed to know over time rather than trying to jump around randomly.