Spineward Sectors 6: Admiral's Spine

by Luke Sky Wachter

  Pulling out her com-link and setting it on the table, Akantha took a deep breath and turned to me. I suppressed a wince; my Ice Maiden was back and in full form.

  “Akantha,” I said, trying for a winning smile—one that slowly wilted after a few seconds of her silent regard.

  “Jason,” she replied coolly.

  “So…how was your day?” I said floundering and even I winced at how lame my words sounded. In addition to being a fool when it came to the female half of the species, it appeared my ability to make small talk that didn’t relate to the work of running a ship or a fleet was also less than ideal.

  “You want to know how my day was?” Akantha repeated with disbelief. “You, who seemed quite eager to ignore me in favor of non-stop meetings and the mess hall for food, now want to rattle on like a prattling woman too long cooped up indoors?” she said with rising disbelief.

  “Hey now,” I protested, “there’s no need to be mean about it! I was just asking a simple question.”

  “Perhaps you think me too ‘simple’ for a real discussion then?” she said icily, clearly implying that by the word ‘simple’ I thought her stupid.

  I opened my mouth to verbally explode and then forcibly clenched my jaw. I’m not here to start a fight, I reminded myself. I was there to speak with my wife and, hopefully, mend a few fences along the way.

  “I don’t want to fight with you,” I said a hint of plaintiveness creeping into my voice despite my best efforts, “we’ve just gotten back together,” I added with a sigh when she didn’t immediately melt from a frozen Ice Princess into a real life flesh and blood person a man could actually relate to.

  “You have a strange way of showing it,” Akantha said coldly.

  “How so?” I demanded hotly, my dander finally starting to rise. There’s only so much badgering a man can take before he loses his cool.

  “We’ve been apart for the better part of two seasons, but instead of speaking with me about that—or the great battle we just partook in—the first thing you think to ask about,” her words turned to a hiss, “after running away from me from morning to noon,” she now looked like she wanted to throttle someone—probably me, “is an asinine question about how my day has been!" By the time she finished her icy demeanor had been replaced with red-faced, growing anger.

  “This is coming from the woman who woke me up from my bed in sickbay to give me accusations of starting a war and lying to her about it?” I shouted. “Ye-Space Gods, it’s no wonder I don’t want to speak with you about the past!” “Well if the shoe fits, wear it,” she snarled. “Or are you trying to deny that you are going to launch yourself into another deadly contest the very moment we are both returned to my war-torn home? Perhaps you are trying to leave me behind—again?!”

  “What are you raving about, woman?” I said, throwing my hands in the air, determined to stay focused on the main point at hand. “I gave very specific orders that I was not to be accosted with that Representative’s,” I gave that last word scornful emphasis, “outrageous demands, as I had no time to deal with them during the heat of battle—which battle I went from fighting, to literally waking up in bed being accused of lying to you about something which I had absolutely no knowledge!”

  Akantha glared at me.

  “If there’s a place for that proverbial shoe, then it’s atop your head because you hadn’t a leg—or foot!—to stand on,” I said, returning her glare.

  “So you aren’t going to start another war?” Akantha demanded, and like a dog with a bone she just wouldn’t let go.

  “That’s beside the point,” I growled.

  “So you are!” she exclaimed, and as that was actually now my intention after listening to the Representative’s tale of woe, I couldn’t exactly deny it now could I?

  “That’s beside the point,” I riposted defensively.

  “No, it is precisely the point." Akantha stood up and slapped a hand against the wall of our quarters, “I know you, and I knew exactly what you would do before you did it. That is why I roused you: to explain yourself!”

  “That doesn’t make any sense,” I blustered with disbelief, “are you some kind of prophet, seer, or revelator now—one so lost to the strands of time that she can’t be bothered to wait until an event actually happens before reacting to it?”

  “Are you mocking me?!” she cried clenching her fists.

  “I’m more than half serious,” I flared.

  “You-you-you,” she advanced on me with outstretched hands.

  I took an instinctive half step back, my knees catching on the bed. I had just regained my balance and focused back on my girl when her hands landed on me. I had to force myself not to fall into a defensive crouch—when angered and on the advance my beloved wife looked alarmingly similar to many of the people who had tried to kill me in the not-too-distant past.

  “Okay, maybe that last was going a bit too far,” I said hastily, all the while reminding myself that one did not pull a pocket blaster—even one hidden up his sleeve for nearly that exact situation—on his Lady wife, no matter how much she looked like she wanted to kill him.

  Her hands bunched in my uniform and then I was lifted off the floor.

  “What—” I got out, curling my fist and drawing it back.

  Then her mouth landed on my own and there was no more room for talking. At first I was too tense but then, realizing what was happening, I relaxed into it and for an endless moment I just enjoyed.

  “You are the most insufferable man,” she sighed, pulling back slightly and resting her head on my cheek.

  “Err,” I said my scrambled brain unable to process what exactly I should be saying. “Thanks?” I heroically tried anyway.

  From her little growl of frustration, I knew I’d somehow picked wrong. I’d always thought you couldn’t go wrong complimenting a woman? Live and learn, I guess.

  “I’m sorry,” I said with concern, “should I have said—”

  She tossed me on the bed, where I landed on my back with a thump.

  “Be silent,” she instructed me, “I have been imagining this moment for a long time, and even you will not be allowed to ruin it by opening your mouth.”

  “Right,” I said, my teeth closing with an audible click.

  Akantha glared down at me for a long moment and then her expression softened and she clambered into bed with me.

  For the longest time she plundered my mouth but there’s only so long a man whose been without his wife for an extended period could survive such torture. In a sudden move I rolled and reversed positions.

  Then it was my mouth—as well as my hands—that began to wander, and for the longest time we talked about nothing at all.

  Chapter 8: A Restful Repast

  “That was nice,” I said, rolling onto my back and stretching out with a contented sigh.

  “Nice?” Akantha asked mostly pleasantly but with the slightest edge to her voice.

  “I meant awesome,” I said jerking with surprise, “the word I was searching for was awesome and incredible and—”

  “Do not strain yourself, Protector,” Akantha said with amusement and placed a finger on my lips to silence me.

  “Protector?” I asked when she finally removed the finger, I struggled for a light tone but couldn’t help feeling a bit of hurt, “What happened to using first names?”

  “Jason, then,” she corrected with a snort.

  “That’s better,” I said once again settling back with a contented feeling. Everything was, for a short time, once again right in the world. Intellectually I knew that I was probably still just basking in the afterglow since the world was never right or easy, but for the moment I was just content to be at least minimally optimistic.

  Akantha repositioned herself until her leg lay over the top of mine, weighing down like an iron bar so I had little—no, strike that, I had ‘no’ chance of escaping.

  “Blast my Uncle anyway,” I muttered, glad that he was dead, “just the thought of all we
’ve suffered thanks to that bastion of evil makes me want to feed him to the Bugs all over again.”

  “He was not your Uncle,” Akantha stated in a dispassionate voice.

  “Oh, Hades yes he was—and by all the Blazes will forever remain—my uncle,” I said, jerking in bed but unable sit up with a woman that weighed almost…or possibly just as much as I did, still wrapped around me. After all she couldn’t possibly be bigger than me; she was just taller, I told myself, my mind skirting around the elephant in the room and latching onto the inane realization that I was going to have to increase my workout routine now that the reality of Akantha back in my life held me pinned to the mattress with little more than a languid leg.

  “Some women might take exception to their son killing a still powerful, former lover in their presence,” I went rigid as her voice slowly faded, “but I think your mother took it all quite well…” Akantha went on, heedless of the fact her voice had started fading away shortly after she uttered the words ‘former lover’.

  White noise filled my mind as she continued to natter on and I blinked rapidly. After a while her words started to make sense again and my brain reengaged.

  There was no way in all of creation that that man—who had shot me in my own conference room, left me for dead, tried to kill my wife and, after I survived, sent me off to be tried and executed when I wouldn’t join him in whatever insane plans for galactic domination flitted through his skull—was in any way a closer relation to me than the distant Uncle he himself agreed with me he should be! I took deep rapid breaths, the thought of him, a murderous, slaving, piratical piece of scum and my mother together in a room like me and—

  Once again white noise drowned out my senses.

  A sharp pain followed by cramping muscles in my arm where Akantha had just hit me with her fist brought me back to the present.

  “You were saying?” I said, turning to look at Akantha and reaching over to rub my arm.

  “You have not been listening to a thing I have said, have you?” Akantha demanded, posting up on her elbow and glaring down at me.

  My eyes were arrest by the movement of something much more appealing than my mother and-and-and…I gave myself a shake.

  “Men,” she huffed, seeing the direction of my gaze and pulling up the sheet to cover herself.

  Disappointed, I turned back to look at her with a sigh and seeing the look on her face knew I needed to change the subject quick or my arm wouldn’t be the only thing smarting in a couple of minutes.

  “Sorry,” I apologized, “let’s please not talk about my mom right now,” I said, delicately skirting the ‘subject which would not be mentioned.’ I mean, it was one thing to think of my mom with someone in that way—yuck!—but the idea of her, and that Pirate, and…me?! Feeling my blood pressure begin to rise once again, I desperately refocused on what was important: a wife who packed a mean punch and the willingness to use it! “I mean don’t get me wrong, I want to know how she’s been doing but…,” a flash of inspiration struck and though it felt like a good idea now I knew I was going to suffer for asking but as that was going to happen anyway. I took a breath, “Why don’t you tell me about what happened to you after we got separated at the Omicron? Besides, I’m more interested in hearing about you anyway,” I added.

  “There is not much to tell,” Akantha said dismissively, and while I silently applauded to hear it, I knew that as a supportive husband I couldn’t show that I felt this way. What was more, as a son I knew I was desperate to avoid the previous subject. A bit of heartburn now was better than…ugh! “We went to Capria to express our displeasure over their betrayal at the Omicron Station, and to exact an appropriate price. I believe James got the message,” Akantha said, her voice turning smug.

  “King James, you mean?” I asked, freezing in place. “What did you do?” I asked with a sinking sensation.

  “James of Capria,” Akantha corrected me, “that little slive is hardly a proper King. As for what I did, I sent him and that pestilent Parliament a message they’ll not soon forget!”

  I brought a hand to my forehead and started rubbing it. “You mean that in a metaphorical, long-distance sense, I hope, and settled for shooting a few things up as ‘payment’?” I said, knowing even as I said it that for my girl that particular ‘hope’ was little more than a short-lived fantasy.

  “What do you take me for?” Akantha sounded offended. “I was quite proper, and the Kingling and I sat down and hashed things out like proper women.”

  I blinked to cover my bulging eyes; it was at times like this that I was reminded that back where she came from, the planet of this system in fact, women tended to run everything except combat.

  “That sounds good,” I said cautiously.

  Akantha got a thoughtful expression on her face. “After we destroyed most of his orbital defenses, stormed his palace, and seized one of his battleships as our own for good measure, of course,” Akantha said triumphantly, and then she looked at me expectantly. From the look in her eye she clearly thought she had done good—or better than good—and was ready to hear me praise her.

  “Of course,” I wheezed, feeling a coughing attack about to overcome me, “that was very…restrained.”

  Akantha nodded, as if agreeing that she’d been the very soul of restraint and, almost despite myself, I reached out and slowly traced the scars running down her face from her eyes to her jaw almost like tear tracks.

  “Gants was quite concerned for his family,” she said, leaning into my hand, “and wanted me to promise not to orbitally bombard his home world during the attack,” Akantha finished quite seriously.

  My fist which had been tracing the scars on her face clenched.

  “Clearly he still feels some strong attachment to his former polis,” Akantha continued contemplatively. “But he has done a worthy job as my First Officer and I am more than willing to retain him, but it might be best if he rejoined you for a time.”

  “I can see that,” I said in a carefully controlled voice and then felt I had to ask, “you didn’t…?” I trailed off not certain of the best way to ask someone you love if she’d just launched a genocidal attack upon your home world from orbit.

  Akantha looked offended. “Why in the name of MEN would I have to make war upon citizens?” she asked as she gave me a hard look.

  “I know; it’s crazy, right?” I said and then sighed with relief.

  “Although I was tempted to drop a stone on the Bunker holding your Parliament, after the way their men were party to an attack by your Uncle that would have killed everyone onboard the Armor Prince during the siege of the Omicron,” for a brief moment Akantha almost seemed to sag, but then her face hardened. “Only Hansel Suffic’s sacrifice to save the rest of us warded off that attack. An anti-mutiny device, or ‘bomb,’ I believe they called it.”

  I grimaced, figuring that now probably wasn’t the best time to mention Operations Budget Balancer or Rounding Error, and the fact my Uncle had admitted to working with, and for, Parliament since before his exile from the home-word.

  “Understandable,” I agreed finally, “but your restraint does you justice.”

  Akantha frowned and shook her head dismissively. “There wasn’t time,” she said with a shrug that did strange things under the sheet, which sheet I also notice had started to slip, “the rest of Capria’s SDF Fleet was on the way and if we were to take our prize with us we needed to leave." Then she noticed where I was looking, “My eyes are up here,” she said a cool note to her voice, but when I looked back up I saw a hint of satisfaction that quickly left her face as soon as she saw me watching.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled more than a little unrepentantly, all the while fighting to keep a smirk off my own face.

  “I admit I was somewhat driven,” Akantha continued in a tone of voice that made it seem as if this was some kind of great admission from her, “but I don’t know why he…all of them seemed so concerned.”

  I made a non-committal sound.


  “It is not as though the citizenry of Capria attacked us!” Akantha laughed.

  “Uh…what do you mean by that?” I asked hesitantly. “I mean, hypothetically, suppose for some reason they did; what would you have done? They’re just average people, not warriors, after all.”

  Akantha looked contemplative, as if the thought had never occurred to her before. “I guess it would depend on what they had done…probably nothing. Being attacked by militia or a citizen with a weapon is just war,” she shrugged then something seemed to occur to her, “of course…there is always the example of Isis the Great.”

  “What did she do?” I smiled.

  “She was pulled from her riding beast by the Citizens of Denegan during the middle of a diplomatic visit,” Akantha said a hard glint entering her eye such that I was afraid to ask—but, of course, I had to.

  “What happened?” I inquired as mildly as I could, trying to keep tensions low.

  “It is one thing to be attacked and killed by your enemies, but it is another entirely to assault the dignity of a sitting Hold-Mistress and drag her through the streets. They should have simply killed her,” Akantha said baring her teeth, “but they didn’t and now there are no more Citizens of Denegan—and thus, no more Denegan.”

  I winced, hoping that nobody got the sweet idea of dragging my girl through the street. I might be forced to stave off an orbital bombardment of my own—and that’s assuming she didn’t want to take the sword to a bunch of civilians, all up front and personal style.

  “Let’s try to avoid situations like that,” I said diplomatically and wondering if some day in the future I was going to have to make a decision to jettison my wife or cover up her massacring a town, major city or entire planet because a bunch of non-military idiots took it into their heads to ‘teach her a lesson’. I suppressed a shudder.