I’d never seen a Tracto-an with a prosthetic mechanical arm, leg, or anything else really. Yet here was a middle-aged warrior with a cheap, mechanical arm standing behind Akantha as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
Taking myself to task for getting distracted, I shrugged it off and focused back on the matters at hand and promptly decided to beat a hasty retreat.
“How long until point transfer, Mr. Shepherd?” I asked, clearing my throat.
“Less than a half hour now, sir,” he informed me in a clear voice.
“Thank you, Navigator,” I said formally, and then leaned back in my chair. The presence of my mother, wife, and sister all clustered around me was like an itch behind my back that I couldn’t scratch, but there was nothing to be done.
As the long minutes until the hyperspace jump counted down to zero, I could hear just at the edge of my hearing a low voiced conversation between my wife and my sister that was notable only by the overly polite tone they used. I could already feel that this was going to be a very long trip and we hadn’t even left Tracto yet.
When the Navigator informed us that we were about to jump no one was more relieved than I.
Chapter 27: No Respect
“No, Governor, and for the last time,” I said, holding onto my temper by the skin of my nearly gritted teeth, “I cannot detach one of my lighter warships.”
The Governor opened his mouth to object.
“Or more than one of my warships,” I cut in and added before he could speak, then I smiled tightly, “although if you are as concerned as you seem to be about a potential invasion, the Multi-Sector Patrol fleet can always use more ships. Perhaps the loan of one of your destroyers would help us to—”
“One of our ships?!” the Governor burst out a vein on his forehead throbbing as his face turned an interesting shade of red. “Why in the black blazes would I be asking for a picket of your ships if I felt safe enough to turn loose one of our three destroyers? I don’t know what military academy you graduated from that turns out Admirals of your age, but if you had the sense the Space Gods gave a turnip you’d—”
“Strongly encourage each and every system and planetary Governor I run across to donate ships from their SDF to the common defense,” I interrupted smoothly, and with flint in my voice.
“This is an outrage!” the Governor exclaimed, the redness of his face starting to settle as he transitioned from angry outburst to political posturing, “What do we pay our taxes for if not Fleet protection?”
I coughed politely. “Refresh my memory…but when was the last time your world did pay its taxes?” I asked mildly.
The Governor once again purpled. “That is entirely beside the point! It’s the principle of the thing,” he openly fumed, “our taxes have been set aside and are simply awaiting the arrival of a duly appointed tribute and taxation fleet. It’s not our fault if the central government is too incompetent to collect its due in a timely fashion.”
“So you haven’t actually paid anything toward the common defense in the last,” I paused as if thinking, “two years, is it?”
“We are owed defense, not cheek!” the Governor Manheim snapped. “Rim Fleet owes us a duty to protect our worlds.” “As I attempted to make the Governor aware during our very first conversation when I arrived in this system, there is no Rim Fleet any longer and hasn’t been for almost two years,” I said my voice dripping with irony.
“Don’t speak condescendingly to me, Admiral,” the Governor said, almost spitting my fleet rank out of his mouth, “talking down to a man three times your age won’t win you any friends in this region of space.”
I raised my brows at him. Once again amazed that either I was considered a callow inexperienced youth to be used as a verbal punching bag or else I was the ‘Tyrant of Cold-Space’ a space way terror to be appeased and hurried out of the system as quickly as possible, with very little middle ground left in between.
“Well played, Governor Manheim,” I said, shaking my head at the politician before me, “pretending mental incompetence, or a mental-health disorder effecting the memory, as a way to trick me into a misstep that will alienate the border worlds standing between Sectors 25 and 24 as a way to justify not paying your taxes or contributing to the common good." I gave him a look of false admiration, “Your skill and ability to do the droids work for them is amazingly good, Sir,” I said before making a savage gesture to the com-tech to cut the transmission before he could reply.
“Perhaps we should speak to the Governor’s office again in a few hours after tempers have had time to cool?” Laurent said, clearing his throat.
“No,” I said grimly, knowing that I’d just permanently alienated the man. Worse, I had lost my cool while doing so but I’d been unable to put up with the man any longer, “I think we’re done here.”
“Are you sure, sir?” the Captain prodded carefully.
“If I have to put up with one more insufferable Border Baron who feels his little fief out here is threatened by the Droids, the MSP, or both, I’m liable to do something rash,” I said, placing my hands on the cushioned arms of my chair and squeezing the padding.
“Threatening a man and calling him a traitor to humanity for refusing to provide ships to the fleet isn’t rash enough?” the Captain asked with disbelief.
I turned and stared at the Captain, thinking hot and angry words about how the penny ante politicians of the worlds here, closest to the threat of the droids, ought to pull their heads out of the sand and do the smart thing.
“While it’s not the least I could do, it’s pretty darned close,” I said instead, and then barked a laugh, “although that’s an interesting position to take. Perhaps I ought to put it before the Judge and get a legal opinion.”
“I beg your pardon?” Laurent said a hint of censure in his voice at what he probably assumed was my levity.
I looked at him and could see the denseness of his thinking on his face and frowned. “As you pointed out when you rightly rebuked me, it’s not my place to be the judge of any politician’s loyalty to the human race,” I sighed, “let alone act judge, jury and executioner, I mean outside of a genuine military threat like a Droid Fleet attacking this system. Otherwise what are we fighting for? Tyranny?” I asked rhetorically and shook my head. “No man—no person—should have that power.
There was a pause. “I’m glad you feel that way, Admiral,” the Flag Captain said finally.
I nodded firmly. “Yep, that’s why it’s a good thing we’ve got a Sector Judge with us,” I said and then leaned back in my chair, suppressing as smile as the Captain blanched. I had no intention of putting that fool on trial just because he was a mental midget. Even if he did seem determined to get as many of us—and his own people—killed as possible when the droid fleets crushed my forces and sailed through his system because no one wanted to beef up my fleet.
No, I’d learned by my lesson about the power of the judiciary and how it could be abused and misused back at Central and wasn’t about to subject anyone else to such a fiasco. Besides even if I was completely without a soul, sacrificing the moral high ground like that, and over a pimple of a Governor like Manheim was just plain stupid.
The next time they hooked me up to the truth drugs and interrogated me, in the name of the people, I wanted to be able to truthfully say I had never done such a thing.
On the other hand though, I wasn’t above putting the fear of Murphy into anyone who’d rather bluster and filibuster instead of actually doing something while raving about how someone else was supposed to save him because of some supposed taxes that he didn’t actually pay.
“Sir,” Laurent said sounded half choked, “I’m not sure if Representative Kong has everything he’d need for a trial.”
I blinked before casting a look over at Laurent. Seeing that he seriously thought I was about ready to kangaroo court this little PG—Planetary Governor—I rolled my eyes at him and turned to Navigation.
“Mr. Shepherd, if
you would be so good, please plot us a least time course out of this system and shoot it over to the helmsman,” I instructed.
There was a moment of disbelief on the bridge and then the tension seemed to bleed out. “Aye, Sir,” my Navigator said eagerly.
“I thought we were going to take six hours to make sure we stripped everything we need from this system and its data nets, Admiral?” Captain Laurent said in a low voice.
“I doubt we’re going to get much more out of this place, Captain Laurent,” I replied formally.
“Aye, Sir,” he muttered.
“I’ll be working on some paperwork in my ready room if you need me,” I said, my mood darkening as I contemplated the pile of reports I had to go through daily. “So whenever you and the helm are ready, relay the order to the fleet and take us out of here.”
“Will do, Admiral,” the Captain said with relief, although a frown lingered on his face.
“Buck up, Captain,” I said chucking him on the shoulder as I stood up, “I may have lost my temper but I’m not about to start replacing Governors just because they seem determined to get their populations destroyed by the droids by only looking out for themselves.”
Captain Laurent looked appalled as he looked over at me.
“I mean how will the voters ever learn about personal accountability, when it comes to selecting their leaders, if we’re constantly bailing them out from the consequences of the bad decisions their leaders make?” I asked, turning and heading off the bridge. “It’s like building your home in a flood zone or below sea level: feel free to do whatever you want, of course—that’s why we have free will instead of a neural collar and an AI mandated cost/benefit ratio. But just don’t come crying to me when the ocean flattens your house, or in this case the droids come, orbitally bombard, and then enslave you.”
“You would hold the people responsible for the actions of their leaders?” Laurent sounded shocked.
I turned and frowned at him. “The people held me accountable for the actions of my family members—most of whom died long before I was born. The leaders they selected then tried to kill me for political gain,” I said, looking at him coldly, “if I, in turn, hold those people responsible for the actions of the leaders who they’ve put in power—and refuse to recall—I don’t see a problem.”
“That’s a cold way of looking at things, if you don’t mind my saying,” Laurent said defiantly, his demeanor making it clear he didn’t care at all whether or not I minded.
I shrugged indifferently. “It’s a hard world out there and yet, here I am, still trying to do the best I can and save as many as possible—with far too little resources at my disposal. So if I’ve finally realized that it’s impossible to save those people that don’t want to be saved, and decided to husband my assets—and the lives of those men and women who rely on me—I don’t view that as cold. It’s just reality. The world likes to kick us in the teeth,” I said, speaking about the Multi-Sector Patrol Fleet in general, “it’s time we stopped grinning and bearing it—we need to start kicking back.”
Chapter 28: Akantha Hatches a Plan
Akantha entered the room and spotting the person she wanted strode over. “Doctor,” she said, speaking to the surprisingly short female doctor.
“Lady Akantha,” the other woman said in surprise, “I didn’t expect to see you down here.”
“I was told you were the one to speak with about certain matters,” she replied tentatively, and hated herself for her trepidation. A Hold-Mistress was supposed to be many things, but tentative and weak were not among of them.
“Specifically?” the other woman asked curiously, her eye sweeping over Akantha’s body then back to her face. She looked puzzled, “I don’t see any injuries. Are you here on behalf of someone else?”
“After a manner of speaking,” Akantha said and then fell embarrassingly silent, unsure exactly how to proceed.
“Doctor-patient confidentiality means that whatever you tell me, I won’t tell to another unless you specifically tell me to…” she paused, “unless it falls under a need to know for military duty. And obviously, if I am caring for another, I would need their permission also.” “No, it is nothing like that,” Akantha hesitated.
“Would you like to go someplace private to discuss this,” the doctor asked and Akantha nodded, “alright then; this way.”
The doctor waited until they were both sitting in her office with Persus standing just within the room, before speaking. “Do you want him here?” the doctor asked, pointing to her childhood and current guard.
Akantha looked up and then over at Persus in surprise and then back to the Doctor.
“I trust him with my life,” she said simply but then looked over at the Tracto-an man, “but there are some mysteries men are more comfortable not knowing. You can wait outside,” she told Persus with a small tight smile to let him know her regard for him hadn’t changed.
She waited until he had left before looking back at the doctor.
“Alright,” the Doctor said picking up a laser pointer and playing with it in her hands before setting it back down again, “from the tone and words you’ve used, I take it that you are having trouble with certain personal needs?”
Akantha looked at her perplexed.
“Specifically, ‘female’ needs?”’ the Doctor prompted.
“Ah,” Akantha nodded slowly, “not as such. Well…it is but it is not, if you know what I mean. It is regarding a need not exclusive to my gender, you understand, although it is certainly linked in a way that cannot be sundered,” she frowned before finally deciding, “yes, it is a personal need.”
The doctor looked confused. “Maybe it’s best if you just tell me in your own words?” she finally urged.
Akantha shifted uneasily but there really was no point in going to a healer—or what the star-born called a ‘medical professional’—if you weren’t going to say what you needed.
“I understand from my reading on your ship’s net that you are the one to go to if one is having difficulties kindling a child,” she said, crossing her legs unconsciously.
“We have all the standard contraceptives here in this facility, and I can provide them to any of our crewmembers upon request,” the Doctor replied, looking at her strangely. “This service is completely confidential, and no one in the chain of command can or will know about it—up to and including the Admiral.”
Now it was Akantha’s turn to be confused but when she realized what it was the doctor seemed to be suggesting, her face relaxed.
“Secrecy is not paramount,” she said with a smile, “although, like many, I would prefer to choose my own time and place to speak of it with my Protector.”
“Well, depending on how far you are along, time is not a critical factor,” the doctor said.
Akantha blinked. “No, you do not understand,” she said quickly, “I am not with child.”
The doctor leaned back in her chair with relief. “I can get you a standard implant that will take care of any such concerns going into the future,” she said, tapping on the console built into the desk she was sitting behind, “they’re easy to implant and are almost entirely self-regulating. You won’t have a child until, and unless, you’re ready. Control of your body is a right.”
“Yes-yes,” Akantha waved her hand irritably, “I know that your ‘technology’ is superior, but we have herbs and potions that do the same thing. Control is why I am here, but I do not need help stopping a baby from quickening in my belly.”
“Then what exactly do you need?” the Doctor asked, taking her hands away from the data console in her desk before her visage took on a hard cast. “Do you feel safe in your relationship, my Lady?”
“What?” Akantha asked leaning back in her chair as she considered it. “My position could be made safer,” she agreed after a moment’s consideration, “and that is why I am here.”
“Whatever I can do to help, I will,” the Doctor said as a steely glint entering her eye, “y
ou have options, no matter who your husband is.”
“This is good news to hear, doctor,” Akantha said relaxing in her chair with relief, “because I need an heir.”
The Doctor in front of her blinked several times rapidly. “What?” she asked incredulously.
“I have been studying your medical information and techniques with great interest, and I think may I have found an answer that will not only help secure my position, but also solidify the relationship with my Protector and it will make all of us much safer,” Akantha said, leaning forward eagerly. Then, because she felt she needed to be as truthful with the healer as she was with herself, she reluctantly said, “And it would be more convenient for me—and in the future as well.”
“Just so we’re clear: your husband is treating you well and you don’t want a contraceptive,” the Doctor said, releasing a pent-up breath and shaking her head from side to side, “you do understand that most of the women I see are interested in preventing a pregnancy, not starting one?”
“Yes, of course, all is well,” Akantha said waving a hand in the air with frustration, “if such was not true, that is the reason why I bear a sword—and it is also what men like Persus are for.”
“Alright…then, yes,” the Doctor said clearly thinking about it as she spoke, “I mean usually this would be against regulations, but since you’re not technically in the MSP there’s nothing stopping me from helping you conceive. Is that something you’ve been having trouble with?”
“I foresee no difficulties, but in truth I have not been trying,” Akantha said a flash of concern entering her at the thought that there might be difficulties. But she pushed them aside.
“Okay, then my best advice is to draw some blood work, start you on prenatal supplements, and get a good biophysical profile for you started. Also, whatever potions or herbs or whatever it is you’ve been taking, you need to stop,” the Doctor said looking Akantha straight in the eyes. “Do that and we’ll just let nature take its course; if, after a month or two, you’re still having trouble then we can step in and assist.”
Spineward Sectors 6: Admiral's Spine Page 24
