Tremblay sneered in response. “He was like dealing with the height of reason compared to Jean Luc,” the former First Officer said forcefully, “try being told you have to cut off your own hand and then eliminate a rival—or face an uncomfortable death for coming perilously close to failure while running a covert intelligence op under that officer’s nose—and then we’ll talk about who has more intestinal fortitude. Until then you can regard any changes in the color of my skin, or shakiness you think you see, as a perfectly sane reaction to the odds we face. I’ve proven I can hack it beyond any kind of scorn and mockery you want to heap on me. Man up, you say?” he scoffed. “Only a self-important, self-obsessed woman would be arrogant enough to speak to me that way says I. Lady, I’ve seen things you’ve only dreamed of in nightmares.”
She must have seen something in his face because after his words, she paused and looked at him—really looked at him—as if reassessing him in every way before shrugging.
“Well, well, well,” she said a slow, calculating smile spreading across her face, “it’s not often I’m wrong in an initial assessment. Intelligence Officer, it seems you have unplumbed depths…I hope to get the chance to explore them more fully." She paused, as if in consideration, “Perhaps you aren’t quite the low level burden and abject failure I had been expecting.”
“I’ve helped bring down two Montagne’s—one of them quite literally insane—and survived the first’s return to power. So if that’s your definition of failure, I think I can handle anything you or these droids throw my way,” he said angrily.
“You sure talk a lot, don’t you?” Bethany said with a cold, vicious smile. “And for all you claim to have done and experienced, you are forgetting one thing: you don’t know me as well as you think you do. And you certainly have no idea of what I’ve done to get where I am today.”
“I know exactly what you’ve done to get yourself here,” Tremblay said gesturing with his whole arm to encompass the escape pod.
“You may know the circumstances that landed me on this suicide mission: crossing Flat Nose and upsetting his delicate sensibilities,” she said mockingly. “But you know nothing else about me or how I, a mere Princess-cadet from a cadet branch of the Royalty on a Parliament-controlled world, got to where I am within the Sector Government. So, congratulations; you’ve convinced me you’re not the worm I thought you were. But you’re still nothing more than a bug I can grind under my heels with two words back at Central. Because make no mistake: you’re in the same boat as me, and that means you’re outside the comforting umbrella cast by Jason’s long shadow.”
The scathing retort that was on Tremblay’s lips withered as died as the escape pod was pulled into the droid ship with a clang that shook the little ship, threatening to spill the two humans onboard out of their seats. Several shudders followed as the ship was secured to the deck.
Half a minute later, Raphael Tremblay was just gathering his wits and courage to speak when there was a knock on the pod door.
The droids, it seemed, had arrived.
Chapter 43: Shifting Blame
“Admiral Montagne, I really must protest being sent off the bridge at a time like this,” Kong Pao said as soon as he was escorted into my ready room.
“We’re in the middle of a system-wide battle for control of this star and her planets,” I said calmly. “So I apologize for not having the time to consult before now, but I would neither change what has already happened nor my future actions.”
“I do not attempt to claim more experience in space combat than a sitting Fleet Officer, nor do I imagine I have anything significant to add when the shooting takes place,” Kong Pao said dryly, while giving me a skeptical assessing look. “However, perhaps my definitions of ‘active combat’ and ‘enough time’ are different than yours…” he paused dramatically, “especially when it comes to establishing diplomatic relations with the ruling body of a Star System like Aqua Nova?”
I stiffened as I realized there was a leak somewhere in the informational chain. How did he know that? But, more importantly, what was the proper response? Because he actually did have a point; I probably should have involved him sooner and if I had my initial contact with the Senior Select could have been much smoother. Then my face hardened.
“Spilt milk, Judge,” I said with a frown. “I’m not as concerned with where we are now as I am going forward." There, that should be enough to get us moving on past this slight, potential, misstep and made me sound firm and decisive enough, I thought smugly.
“My concern is for the best possible outcome for all parties involved,” Kong Pao said smoothly, the usual mealy-mouthed diplomatic speak rolling off his tongue such as I was used to hearing in the Palace from visiting diplomats when they had occasion to encounter one another—back in the days when I was still in the Palace of course. “And as I firmly believe that this means positioning you and your forces the best way we possibly can against the droids, which is of course entirely your bailiwick,” he said as my brows lowered. He added quickly, “However, when it comes to establishing relations—military or otherwise—with the member worlds of this region and their fleets, not only the MDL but Sector-wide, I believe I can be of considerable use to you and your Fleet. I am a resource; let me help you, Admiral.”
I leaned back as I considered this surprisingly impassioned plea. “You have a definite point, Representative,” I said finally, “and I will endeavor to use you more fully going forward.”
“That’s all I ask, Admiral: utilize me. We both want the same thing,” he said with a nod.
“Very well, after this meeting I want you to get on the line with Senior Select Grierson and see what you can do,” I said, bringing a close to this matter. “Now that that’s settled, is there anything else you needed to say before we break this meeting up?”
“Other than once again expressing my desire to be on the bridge during potential or actual exchanges where a Representative of the Mutual Defense League—or a Sector Judge—may be useful I believe not,” Kong Pao said, his Asiatic features inscrutable.
“Then let’s be about it,” I said clapping my hands together as I stood up.
Kong Pao nodded as I escorted him to the door. “I shall speak with the Senior Select directly,” he said.
“Then I’ll have Warrant Officer Steiner set you up with a link and a console,” I assured him, waiting until he had left before relaying said orders to Steiner.
Now, other than a little diplomatic hand holding to try and smooth over ruffled feathers, it was all down to the waiting game.
**************************************************
“We have sat here for hours in wait, and still there is no call for battle,” Akantha said from inside her power-armor.
“Waiting can be the hardest part of a warrior’s life,” Captain Atticus said grimly, “and often times it makes no sense.
“Far too true,” Akantha smiled, and then her good humor faded, “still…this whole business is taking far too long.”
Atticus shook his head his expression signaling agreement with the sentiment.
“The Phoenix has already fought one major battle, defeating four powerful enemy ships and a host of these smaller gunboats,” Captain Darius, the Lyconese warrior, observed slowly, “not all space battles will entail hand to hand combat.”
Akantha looked over at the man skeptically. “You do not sound eager for combat,” she said coolly, knowing that her opinion of his mother-polis affected her perception of him but unable to put it more politely that that right at the moment. She was too irritated and too impatient for battle for that.
“It is not that I do not welcome combat,” the foreign Captain said stiffly, “I just think that we should not get out hopes up too high. The many histories I have studied since learning how to use and access the star-born’s Distributed Intelligence computers have indicated that boarding actions are a rarity in space battles.”
Akantha stared at him appraisingly for a long
moment and then snorted. “Clearly, neither these histories nor their writers have ever met my Protector,” she laughed. “I cannot remember the last battle we had where it neither began nor ended with boarding an enemy citadel.”
Darius raised an eyebrow thoughtfully. “This is true,” he agreed neutrally.
“Those of us from Argos have no trouble believing in the fighting spirit of our Warlord,” Atticus said belligerently, “he will lead us to battle never fear.”
“I do not fear,” Darius said sharply, “I only pointed out a great battle in which this ship has already triumphed against superior numbers.”
Akantha calmly stepped between the two men before it could come to blows. “Cease this foolishness. The enemy will come to us when he is finished running away; there is no need to do his work for him,” Akantha said coolly, silently acknowledging the hypocrisy. She was little better than these two in her impatience to get to grips with the enemy, but it was a woman’s duty to prevent the base natures of men from turning them against the very things they were meant to protect.
Her Protector needed to hurry, lest she go back up to the bridge and spur him on to greater efforts. It had been too long since she had seen enemy blood—or whatever it was these droids had for vital fluids.
She intended to discover what that fluid was—and slake Bandersnatch’s thirst with it.
Chapter 44: It’s a Spalding…or is It?
“The Captain is asking if there’s any way we can increase engine speed by another ten percent,” asked the crewman handling communications with the bridge.
Tiberius turned to stare at him incredulously. “What is your name crewman?” he demanded.
“Bostwell, Sir,” the other man said with a questioning frown.
“Well…Bostwell,” the Chief Engineer said with an answering frown of his own, “as ten percent is not only impossible, but beyond the bounds of reason itself, the next time you’re asked you can just tell the bridge an emphatic, resounding, ‘no’ and not bother me with the question. No we cannot achieve a ten percent increase in engine output.”
“Lieutenant, I was speaking with the Captain,” Bostwell protested, “I can’t just tell him something like that without informing you first.”
The younger Spalding stared at the younger man with narrowed eyes before shrugging. “Relay my answer to the bridge, Crewman,” he said turning away. He didn’t make it two steps before Bostwell spoke again.
“Sir, he asks how much we can squeeze out for him,” Bostwell said, speaking quickly, “he says it’s important—”
“It’s always important,” Chief Engineer Terrance Tiberius Spalding quipped.
“But, sir, he says that if we can’t make better speed the droids will reach the Aqua Prime, the worlds most inhabited system, before we do,” Bostwell said urgently.
Tiberius clenched his fist and then stiffly walked over to a work station and started pulling up the engine stats and the fusion reactor charts. As much as he wanted to see these rebellious Royalists fall on their faces, failure was not an option when millions of innocent lives were at stake.
“Tell the Captain we’re already running at maximum military power so all I can give him an additional 3%,” Tiberius said unhappily, “we can do that for the next hour, after which we’ll need at least a half hour for the engines to cool back down before we can increase it again. If he doesn’t listen when I tell him to throttle back, the engines will overheat and we’ll have an automatic engine shutdown that I can’t override.”
Bostwell spoke into his com-link and then looked back up at him and gave the thumbs up sign.
“The Captain says he’ll take what he can get and leave the details of running the engines up to you. Just give it everything we’ve got; civilian lives are at stake,” the crewman said, looking relieved despite his words.
“Tell the Captain ‘we’ll do our best’,” Tiberius said tightly, “oh, and throw me over our time to orbit and the enemy ship’s time to orbit so I can see what we’re up against,” he said, holding up his data slate and jiggling it from side to side.
“Will do, Lieutenant,” Bostwell agreed.
Tiberius then turned and scanned Main Engineering until he spotted the head of the person he was looking for. “Penelope!” he shouted.
The woman’s head jerked and the small figure hunched over a workstation pushed back from the console she’d been sitting at and looked his way, her forehead wrinkling.
“Lieutenant?” she asked, turning his rank into a question mark.
“It’s time to earn our keep and show the rest of the ship why we make the big bucks, Technician,” he growled, striding purposefully towards her.
“Sir? I thought we refused to accept pay until we’re repatriated back home,” she deadpanned, but he could see the faint smile tugging at the corners of the frown she was working to keep in place.
“That was a joke—in case you failed to notice,” he replied dryly.
“Of course, sir,” she said, mock surprise lighting up her face.
“Enough of that,” the Engineering Lieutenant snapped, unable to keep up his sour mood in the face of her gentle mockery. A reluctant smile broke out, which melted away as he turned serious once again, “It seems that, once again, we are called upon to do the impossible and keep this ship moving at faster than her maximum speed in order to get to this system’s primary planet before the droids do.”
“’The impossible’ is something we do as a matter of course, Chief,” Penelope said with a grin, “just tell me what we have to do.”
“Take a look at these power figures,” he instructed, dumping his work solution onto her console screen.
Penelope sat back down and nodded rapidly. “We can handle the load balancing so long as we have someone monitoring the reactors in real-time. I can do one of them,” she said confidently. “But you’ll probably want someone else to go over the drive tolerances for the increased load.”
Although Tiberius didn’t want to agree, the pretty power room technician had a point.
“Alright,” he said, and called over one of the petty officers, who came scurrying over.
“Take a look at this and tell me what you think,” Tiberius said shortly.
The petty officer scanned the data and whistled. “Looks like the Bridge must be trying to write a check they can’t cover and they need us to pull their chestnuts out of the fire,” said the crew chief.
Tiberius glanced down at the man’s uniform and name tag. He wasn’t one of Tiberius’s Parliamentary transplants; he was one of the Royalist mutineers. Knowing this, Tiberius wasn’t about to cut the man any extra slack.
“I doubt the Captain would care to hear such comments are being bruited about the Engineering Department, Parkiney,” he said coldly. “So if I want comments from the peanut gallery you’ll know—because I’ll ask for them directly. In the meantime if you happen have an engineering opinion I’d like to hear it.”
“I’ll send the man you need to speak with right over; he can tell you how the engines will perform running hot,” Parkiney replied stiffly, his face going blank.
“Good, then let’s be about it,” Tiberius said dismissing the man.
Parkiney stiffened to attention and then stalked off.
“That might have been a little harsh,” Penelope said after the other man had moved off.
“Too bad,” Tiberius said sternly, “I’m not here to coddle a bunch of mutineers.”
“To be fair not all of them have turned against the home world, some of them were ex-patriot emigrants who only joined up to help defend the Sector from Bug, Pirates and threats like these droids,” she pointed out.
“I have neither the time nor the inclination to sort the Royalist wheat from the mutinous chaff,” he said coldly. “And if they don’t like how I run things down here, they’re more than welcome to find me alternate accommodations in the brig.”
“Aye, sir,” the pretty, power technician said unhappily and turned back to her
console to run some more figures.
Tiberius placed a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll make it through this, never fear,” he said with certainty.
“Of course, Lieutenant,” she said and flashed him a small little smile to take the sting out of her words, “just let me finish getting you these figures.”
“Of course,” he said and then a technician specializing in the main drives came hurrying over and the time for personal chatter was over—for now.
Chapter 45: Hitting them Hard
“New estimates are we’ll arrive five minutes after the main force of enemy ships,” reported the Navigator.
“Good work, Mr. Shepherd,” Captain Laurent said with a less than happy nod. Engineering had managed to increase their speed slightly upwards and now instead of arriving too late to do anything about it, they were going to arrive during the middle of the initial clash for control of Aqua Prime and thus the entire star system. It was better, but still not quite good enough; unfortunately it was also the best they could do so he was just going to have to learn to live with it. “Carry on,” he ordered as he turned away.
“Aye, Captain,” replied the Navigator but he was already moving onto new business.
I clenched my fist, having hoped for more. For a moment I wondered if the Parliamentarian we had in Engineering was deliberately slowing things up and, once again, I questioned the wisdom of having another man of mixed loyalties among the crew. I mean hadn’t I learned my lesson already?
Then I shook it off as best I could. We were doing the best we could with what we had—and we had more ships than we could handle so every member of the crew had to go twice as far. Moreover, it had been Akantha who appointed the man to the job and I wasn’t about to go to war with her over the man—at least not as long as we had Spalding Senior down there to keep an eye on him.
Spineward Sectors 6: Admiral's Spine Page 33
