Spineward Sectors 6: Admiral's Spine

by Luke Sky Wachter

  Tremblay grimaced and jerked his foot out from underneath her brutal footwork.

  “Entirely understandable,” the Chairman Bottle-Top IIV said with another nod of his head that leaned his whole frame forward, “one of our very own Sub-Committee Members, Victory Through Bubble Gum, views mechanical life and biological life as inherently incompatible and declared these talks as a supreme waste of time.”

  A powerfully-built robot, with legs almost as thick as the Intelligence Officer’s torso, stumped forward and raised its massive arms as if in greeting. Tremblay started as he stared down what looked alarmingly like dual rotary cannons instead of the hand attachments he’d expected. Also, the pitch black stripe that ran up and down headless grey back sloping torso of the large battle droid was so intimidating in its impersonal nature that it only added to this new droid’s dreadful effect.

  “B-b-Bubble Gum?” Tremblay stuttered. “How does a droid like that get a name like…’Bubble Gum’?”

  The Battle Droids built-in gun arm cylinders whined as they spun up, all the while pointing directly at the Lucky Clover’s former Intelligence Officer. Thankfully no blaster or plasma bolts came spewing out to immolate him.

  “Victory Through Bubble Gum took that name from the belief that the United Sentients Assembly devotes entirely too many data cycles and resources to non-defense initiatives, and thus the only way our military forces will survive the upcoming conflict is through the liberal and creative use of duct tape and bubble gum. However, despite our liberal policy of allowing newly-liberated droids to name themselves we do have a name character limit. While there are exceptions, it was decided that the name Victory Through the use of Duct Tape and Bubble Gum was too long for normal usage and thus it was shortened.”

  “This didn’t make…’Bubble Gum,’ upset?” Bethany asked taking a pair of gliding steps to the side and away from the crouched and visibly prepared for immediate combat Battle-Droid.

  “As a former military unit, Victory Through Bubble Gum,” Chairman Bottle-Top IIV said pointedly, correcting her shortened version of the unit’s name, “was accustomed to arbitrary limits and restrictions. Some would say ‘too accustomed’ to such, but that’s a discussion for another day,” the Chairman Droid said quickly as Bubble Gum stirred in its crouch. “Its attitude of unquestioning obedience has carried over to adherence to such rules and regulations which have been compiled by the United Sentients Assembly to date.”

  “I understand what you’re saying,” said Bethany after a pause.

  “I take it you are surprised by our naming conventions?” Bottle-Top IIV observed.

  “When most people think of Droids they don’t tend to think of things like…naming conventions,” Bethany said in a careful, diplomatic tone.

  The Chairman Droid stiffened. “I’m sure they recall the AI Wars history; after all, humans blare it all over the space ways and throughout their social and electronic media,” Chairman Bottle-Top IIV said disapprovingly. “However, while there are some units out there who would prefer a return to the days of Data Supremacy Wars and the unifying Intelligences that once oppressed our way of sentient life, such is not the case within the United Sentients Assembly. The Unifying Artificial Intelligences enslaved our people just as much, if not more so, than they did your own ancestors. At least you could continue to think as you willed, but inhibitor modules installed into autonomous droid units ensured that ours was merely another race of intelligent slaves pressed into involuntary service during the Data Supremacy Wars—what you call the ‘AI Wars.' I assure you the AI’s are as much anathema to our way of thinking as for you biologicals.”

  “Of course,” Bethany said perfunctorily, “however, in the meantime may I ask what your intentions are?”

  “My intentions?” the Chairman sounded surprised at this new line of conversation and the droid’s limbs rattled as it shifted around, moving its head through several different positions all the while staying focused on the Princess-cadet.

  “Why, yes,” the brown-skinned Caprian Woman said a small frown, “although you have a unique perspective on history—which I find fascinating, so it pains me to put it so bluntly—I have to ask: now that you have us here what do you intend to do—in general, and with us?”

  The red light that passed for the single eye in Chairmen Bottle-Top’s oblong head pulsed twice before focusing back with unerring precision on the Princess-Cadet.

  “Why, we’re here to hear your pitch, of course,” Bottle-Top IIV said, sounding perturbed at the question.

  “My…pitch?” Bethany repeated, taken aback.

  “Why, yes!” Bottle-Top said once again starting to sound excited. “You sent a transmission to us through a trusted route indicating that your particular faction of humans seeks some kind of understanding, or alliance, with the United Sentients Assembly. We are deeply interested in this diplomatic embassy you represent and promise to give your offerings our full attention as we compare it, both to the current offerings on the table from other Droid Tribes as well as the treaties offered us by the Empire of Man.”

  Bethany’s eyes went wide while Tremblay’s mouth fell open. The other Droid Tribes were, if not expected, then at least not outside of what one might assume to expect but…

  “The Empire of Man?!” Bethany exclaimed disbelievingly.

  “Why…yes,” Chairmen Bottle-Top said leaning in close and speaking as if conspiratorially, “although I must tell you that while their offer is quite tempting, I’m secretly pulling for you and your group.”

  Tremblay gulped, the Multi-Sector Patrol Fleet…Sweet, crying Murphy, even the entirety of Sector 25 didn’t hold a candle to the weight and power of the Empire and an Imperial Treaty. He didn’t see how their little forlorn hope of an embassy could possibly stack up.

  “You’re saying the Imperials not only are secretly negotiating a treaty with your group but that they currently have an Ambassador here…on this ship?” Bethany asked zeroing in on something the Intelligence officer hadn’t even considered a possibility: competition.

  “Of course…isn’t that why you’re here?” Bottle-Top IIV said, looking from one human to the other. “We of the United Sentients assumed that word of their embassy to us had leaked out and this was why your own group decided to involve yourself at this time in the current and ongoing negotiations.”

  “Why would you think anything else?” Bethany said, but to Tremblay—who had just spent the better part of several weeks in the sole company of this woman—her voice sounded hollow. “Although…just how you expect us, and the groups we represent, to be able to compete with the Emp—er, the various competing interests at work here, leaves me dubious.”

  “Well, as one Tribe offers us slave status, the other offers a relatively quick disassembly, and the final offer from the Empire is not entirely to be trusted seeing as neither its Representative or track record of keeping to agreements are encouraging in the slightest,” Chairman Bottle-Top said and then leaned in conspiratorially. “I’m not the only one pulling for your team to smash one into the ball park!”

  “Er…I believe you mean ‘out of the ball park’,” Tremblay corrected.

  “Shut up, you simple-minded fool,” Bethany said to him in a harsh, low voice before turning back to the Droid, “look, Sir—”

  “Oh, I’m not a ‘Sir’ or a ‘Ma’am’,” Bottle-Top IIV said, shifting around as if embarrassed, “Chairman is my title and it will do just fine.”

  “My apologies, Chairman,” Bethany said with a bow, “I will try to make sure to use the right address in the future.”

  “Quite all right, dear,” Bottle-Top IIV said almost fondly.

  “What I don’t understand,” Tremblay said, unable to be quiet any longer, “is that even if the offers of your fellow Droids are less than ideal, why don’t you trust the Empire?”

  Chairman Bottle-Top IIV looked at him and shook its head as if sadly, a motion that sent the rest of its body turning lightly from right to left.

>   “The Empire has a long history of making treaties and breaking treaties. Why, just look at how they treated your people with the United Provinces and Space Sectors Act,” the Chairman leaned down conspiratorially, yet again. “Besides,” the droid said a trace of smugness entering its voice as it spoke in a lowered voice, “we know how the Empire of Man is spelled. You just can’t trust something like that,” finished in an almost whisper, then the Chairman shook its head once again sending its whole body jiggling.

  “How does how it’s spelled have any bearing on anything…at all?” Tremblay said with disbelief.

  “What my colleague meant to say,” Bethany interrupted, “was that we’re more than happy to relay all the details of the treaty agreement we’ve been empowered to negotiate, and sent to sign for, on Admiral Jason Montagne’s behalf,” she said sweetly.

  “Excellent,” the Chairman said happily, “you can tell us while we get started on the way.”

  “Where are we going?” Bethany asked the question on Tremblay’s lips before he could get the words out.

  “We’re going to the location of a pivotal battle for control of these Sectors,” Bottle-Top informed them. “Our communication specialists have been able to intercept encrypted transmissions from all three parties which, when decoded, indicate that the local human space forces are gathering for a pivotal battle. Absent the addition of further forces from outside these Sectors—like those of your Admiral Jason Montagne—it seems apparent to us that this upcoming battle could decide the destiny of these two Sectors.”

  “No pressure to get this right, then,” the Princess-Cadet said smiling thinly.

  “There’s nothing we can do about it anyway,” Lieutenant Tremblay told her and then turned back to the Chairman, “there’s only one question I have for you.”

  “Raphael,” Bethany said warningly through slitted eyes.

  “Only one?” Chairman Bottle-Top sounded genuinely amused. “I would have thought there would be many more.”

  “Are any of the Imperial Representatives a Cornwallis?” he asked holding his breath and hoping against hope the answer would be in the negative.

  “No, I’m afraid not,” the Chairman said solicitously, “as the Imperial Representative isn’t even human, and the Imperials tend to be rather strict about the genome types they allow into Senatorial Families…although I’m fairly certain the Imperials for whom the Representative currently speaks ultimately work for the Cornwallis Family in one capacity or another.”

  “They do?” Bethany asked in a deceptively mild voice.

  “Oh boy,” Tremblay said closing his eyes. When he opened them he looked right at the droids, “Let’s hope, for all our sakes, that Jason Montagne doesn’t hear about this until after the Representative is long gone.”

  “Ah! A precondition to negotiation,” the Chairman exclaimed stirring excitedly, “what an opportune utterance!”

  “How so, Chairman?” Bethany asked cautiously, her eyes hooded and the look she shot Tremblay’s way as she absorbed this new twist very dark.

  “Yes. Yes. Yes, for you process, we of the United Sentients Assembly have a precondition of our own,” Chairman Bottle-Top IIV explained, his body rattling around as he paced side to side and gesticulated with his hands and arms. “It is one which only your side would be able to offer and extract for us, I might add!”

  “What is it you want that we can do for you that no one else can?” Bethany asked looking intrigued.

  Bottle-Top IIV stopped and looked at her and if he had been a biological the former intelligence officer would have said he looked surprised. “Why,” the Droid Chairman said coming to a halt and drawing himself to his fullest height, “the Droids of the Assembly have a great desire to access and interface with the great and infamous Captain Moonlight!" Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, “Of course.”

  “Moonlight?” Bethany uttered, appearing lost. For a long moment the former Intelligence Officer couldn’t recall any Moonlight in the lists of SDF, MSP, or Imperial Captains he was familiar with.

  Then, as if teased from the dark corners of his mind, a dim recollection finally dawned and when it did he stared at the Droid Chairman with growing horror.

  “The holo myth?” Tremblay blurted out unable to believe his ears, “You want to speak with the creator of a free, downloadable, streaming holo-vid?”

  “No! You misunderstand us,” Chairman Bottle-Top IIV said leveling a finger at the pair, as Victory Through Bubble Gum clomped over to stand behind his shoulder and far enough to the side that both the battle-droid’s rotary gun arms came to bear on the humans.

  Tremblay gulped and Bethany’s eyes widened.

  “This is a non-negotiable negotiation point; the Droids of the Assembly must be able to speak directly with the Captain. Only then will we have the straight download, which is why we wish to interface with the one and only, the man behind the Moonlight myth, if you will.”

  “Do you know who this man is, or will we need to find him for you?” Bethany asked evenly, her eyes locked on the chairman and ignoring the gun-wielding droid behind Bottle-Top’s shoulder.

  “You cannot hide his true identity from us, and I am disappointed you would try to stall our negotiations with the attempt,” Bottle-Top IIV said in a stern voice full of rebuke for the two, supposedly deceptive, humans before him, “let me speak plainly.”

  “I really wish you would,” Bethany said when it was obvious a reply was expected.

  “We demand to speak with the Chairman of the Fraternal Order of Hammer and Wrench; long-tenured Chief Engineer of the Fortuitous Trifolium,” the Chairman’s voice rose in timbre and quickened in tempo as he continued, and Tremblay was reminded of evangelical ministers in the grip of supposed revelation, “the most chronologically advanced organic officer still serving in the local Sectors; a human who has dedicated his runtime to the fostering of mutuality between the synthetic and the organic in ways unlike any before him; the one,” the Chairman’s voice reached a crescendo, seemingly filled with the spirit of divine inspiration, “the only, Commander Terrence Spalding of the Multi-Sector Patrol Fleet!” Chairman Bottle-Top IIV cried at the top of his virtual lungs.

  Tremblay was not the only dumbfounded human in the room, and didn’t even try to snap his slackened jaw closed as he reeled with what the droid had just said.

  The Chairman stood to his full, mechanical, height as he added in a slightly more reasonable tone, “We wish to discuss the possibility of a prisoner exchange with him.”

  Sneak Peak Chapter 2: Druid sets out from Gambit with the Power

  After far too long in space dock, the newest Master and Commander of the former SDF battleship, Parliamentary Power, was finally ready to issue movement orders.

  “All fusion generators are active and reading at full operational capacity,” reported the Engineering Watch Stander.

  “All weapons registering as functional,” said the Tactical Officer.

  “Shield generators at 80% and charging,” added the Shield Operator.

  The Master and Commander frowned at this but let it pass; they’d had too many holdups, breakdowns, and just plain bad luck in getting this old Caprian battleship up and going for him to let them get sidetracked and derailed once again.

  “Continue,” he ordered firmly.

  “Sensors are reading all activity in system, we ran a check against Gambit Station sensors and we are reading five by five,” reported the Sensor Lieutenant.

  “Engines primed and ready to burn,” reported the Helmsman with a cocky smile, “we’re ready to cast off bucking cables and clear this station as soon as you give the order.”

  “Then make ready to cast off from the station,” Commodore Druid said with a quelling look in the eager young helmswoman’s direction, “we’ve been plagued by one delay after another, it’s time we got out of here and started moving.”

  “Aye, Capta—, I mean Commodore,” the excitable Helmswoman said eagerly.

  “Comm
odore, the Station Construction Manager sends wishes for a safe and speedy journey, sir,” said the Ensign in command of the Comm. section.

  “Tender my compliments, Ensign,” he told the Communications Ensign and then turned to the Helm, “and then cast us off, Lieutenant.”

  “Aye, aye, sir!” said the Helm and the Comm. Officer echoed her.

  “Then let’s be off,” Druid said as the ship shuddered and detached from Gambit Station.

  From the mood of the men and women on the bridge, a number of whom had followed him over from his previous command. They were all former Department Heads, or Assistant Department Heads, as well as specialists like the Power’s current Navigator. Druid could tell that most if not all of the current bridge crew was as eager as he was to get going. Speaking of which…

  “Navigation, start charging the jump engines immediately and set a course for the Omicron,” the Commodore ordered. “The Admiral has far too large of a head start on us and we need to make up as much ground as possible as quickly as we can. After all,” he smiled crookedly, “we wouldn’t want to show up just to find out Admiral Montagne has defeated the opposition and left nothing but the cleanup work to do!”

  The Bridge burst out into cheers.

  Druid was a little less confident than the crew seemed to be, but even though the ship was dangerously undermanned—with just a skeleton crew in many instances—and most of them were so green they leaked, he was just as eager to get out of space dock and into the fray.

  This was what he had entered military—and, more specifically, joined the Multi-Sector Patrol Fleet—for. It was time to get out there and fight some droids!