Admiral Invincible (A Spineward Sectors Novel: Book 7)
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Admiral Invincible - A Spineward Sectors Novel: Book Seven
by
Luke Sky Wachter
Copyright © 2015 by Luke Sky Wachter
All rights reserved.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. All resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental. Respect my electronic rights because the money you save today will be the book I can’t afford to write for you tomorrow.
Other Books by Luke Sky Wachter
As of 01-21-2015
SPINEWARD SECTORS NOVEL SERIES
Admiral Who?
Admiral’s Gambit
Admiral’s Tribulation
Admiral’s Trial
Admiral’s Revenge
Admiral’s Spine
Admiral Invincible
RISE OF THE WITCH GUARD NOVEL SERIES
The Blooding
The Painting
RISE OF THE WITCH GUARD NOVELLAS
The Boar Knife
Books by my Brother: Caleb Wachter
SPINEWARD SECTORS: MIDDLETON’S PRIDE
No Middle Ground
Up The Middle
SPHEREWORLD NOVEL SERIES
Joined at the Hilt: Union
SPHEREWORLD NOVELLAS
Between White and Grey
SEEDS OF HUMANITY: THE COBALT HERESY SERIES
Revelation
Reunion
COLLABORATIVE WORKS BY LUKE SKY WACHTER & CALEB WACHTER
SPINEWARD SECTORS NOVELLAS
Admiral’s Lady: Eyes of Ice, Heart of Fire
Admiral’s Lady: Ashes for Ashes, Blood for Blood
Follow me at Seeds of Humanity Facebook Group
Join www.PacificCrestPublishing.com.
Be sure to stop by the blog at blog.PacificCrestPublishing.com for updates.
Be sure to stop by the blog at blog.admiralwho.com for updates.
Table of Contents
Prologue: Dealing in Difficulty
Chapter 1: Events in Motion tend to Stay in Motion
Chapter 2: The Druid Abides
Chapter 3: A Staff Meeting
Chapter 4: The Eggs are in the Basket
Chapter 5: Negotiations went awry
Chapter 6: Armed with new Arms
Chapter 7: A rendezvous in Cold Space
Chapter 8: Spalding vs. the Droids
Chapter 9: The Prisoners!
Chapter 10: The Exchange
Chapter 11: Ambush
Chapter 12: The Wages of Ingratitude: Never will I accept them!
Chapter 13: Druid Beats Feet
Chapter 14: Arrive at Core-World for MDL meeting
Chapter 15: Meetings in Ernest
Chapter 16: One…more…Time!
Chapter 17: Grand Departure and New Arrivals
Chapter 18: Weighty Matter and Bitter Decisions
Chapter 19: Grand Meetings and even grander Battle Plans
Chapter 20: Final Preparations
Chapter 21: Meetings in Cold Space
Chapter 22: Minor Matters
Chapter 23: Opening Maneuvers
Chapter 24: Message in a Bottle
Chapter 25: Questioning Command
Chapter 26: The Droid Surprise!
Chapter 27: The Droid Deception
Chapter 28: Spalding prepares the Penetrator
Chapter 29: The Commodore
Chapter 30: Jovian: First to the Fray
Chapter 31: the Eye of the Storm
Chapter 32: A Sacrifice, made not in vain
Chapter 33: Closing on the Enemy
Chapter 34: Down on the Gun Deck
Chapter 35: Coming to Grips
Chapter 36: To Spalding or not to Spalding
Chapter 37: Surprise Attack!!!!
Chapter 38: Excitement on the Bridge
Chapter 39: Atticus Rides Again
Chapter 40: Akantha’s Command
Chapter 41: Admiral’s Impotence
Chapter 42: Spalding to the Rescue!
Chapter 43: The Commodore takes Advantage
Chapter 44: An unwanted Exit
Chapter 45: Jason Hand to Hand.
Chapter 46: Pushing forward
Chapter 47: Moving in for the Kill
Chapter 48: Under Duress
Chapter 49: Atticus’ Stand
Chapter 50: A call to Surrender
Chapter 51: Teetering on the Edge
Chapter 52: Surprise Reinforcements
Chapter 53: Akantha in Control
Chapter 54: On the Bridge of the Phoenix
Chapter 55: Akantha out of Control
Chapter 56: The Gun Deck Rumble
Chapter 57: Counterattack from Medical
Chapter 58: Akantha Counter-boards
Chapter 59: Relief or Death
Chapter 60: If this is what Victory looks like, please send me home
Chapter 61: The Forge
Chapter 62: One last Ride to the Rescue
Chapter 63: An Unjust Reward
Chapter 64: The Clean Up
Epilogue 1: The Trouble with Old Friends
Epilogue 2: The Secrets of Man
Prologue: Dealing in Difficulty
“Ah, there are our intrepid Ambassadors now!” said Chairman Bottletop IIV, sweeping into the room with a clatter, his spindly arms and legs rattling and clanking as he moved.
The way his smashball shaped head pivoted toward the so-called Ambassadors like some kind of low budget holo-horror made the Caprian Intelligence Officer want to throw up. That’s what Rafael Tremblay had decided he needed to be now: an Intelligence Officer.
The best way to protect Capria and its people was for him to fall back on his original training and think of himself strictly as an asset sent to do his best to disrupt whatever vile plans these mechanical creatures had ready to unleash upon the unsuspecting humans of the Spineward Sectors. Plus, the way his head moved really was off-putting.
Bethany stirred and Tremblay could see from the sharp glance she sent toward the doorway of the conference room they had just occupied that the royal was just as surprised by this visit as he was. Which was good in a way since it meant she hadn’t cut any backroom deals with these creatures while his head had been turned. On the other hand, it was alarming in a way he didn’t care to contemplate.
“Greetings, Chairman,” the Princess-Cadet cum Sector Representative cum Jason Montagne’s pressed-into-service-against-her-will Ambassador, her face smoothing into a pleasant and meaningless expression of feigned interest, “I didn’t know that we were anywhere that would cause you to look for us with such emo—I mean, expressions. We’ve worked hard to stay exactly within the bounds you have set for us while living on board your ship.”
Tremblay grimaced; he hated it when she spoke like that. Her words were nothing more than meaningless air, and her face a falsely pleasant deception. But even still, he grudgingly felt appreciation for her skills.
“No, no, you have been model guests so far,” Bottletop practically beamed, and then had to go and ruin it all by adding, “for humans, of course.”
“We strive to achieve your approval in this minor matter,” Bethany said without pause, while Tremblay scowled, “we want to make sure there are no incidents that might imperil the peace talks between our two peoples.”
“If you can call them ‘people’,” Tremblay muttered.
“Did you say something?” Bethany shot him a glare.
“It is of little moment, my dear,” the Droid Chairman assured her in a discontented sounding voice, “it has been my experience that Military Sentients all function essentially the same. If you had experie
nced only a few of the downloads from Victory Through Bubble Gum that I have, you would better understand the self-imposed limits of the military mind, be they biological or mechanical.”
The look the Princess-Cadet shot his way could have peeled hull paint.
“Speaking of Bubblegum,” Tremblay interrupted before she could hit her stride, “normally he’s present at our meetings. Has something happened to detain him?” he asked hopefully.
“What?” Bottletop IIV looked surprised and then cocked his head, “Oh! You really can’t hear that? Sometimes I forget the limits of the strictly biological mind as it relates to hearing. He is coming along to join us right now.” the Chairman finished happily, pointing toward the doorway.
And no sooner had he stopped speaking than the thump-thump-clang of Victory Through Bubblegum’s distinctive walking pattern could be heard approaching the conference room.
“Wonderful,” Tremblay said glumly as the Assault Droid crouched and pivoted its body as it veritably squeezed through the door. Tremblay noted that when the droid’s first gun arm cleared the door, it unerringly tracked on him before switching back and forth between the two humans in the room. The Droid’s priorities, when it came to threat assessment, were depressingly clear.
He was given a shred of pleasure when he saw that as soon as the gun arm tracked her way, the wattage of Bethany’s smile quickly doubled.
“I’m sure we all feel safer having your bodyguard present,” the Princess said quickly.
Bottletop made a sound that took Tremblay a moment to decipher: the Droid was laughing at them.
“Oh, Victory Through Bubblegum is not my bodyguard, Databanks forbid. No, if I became so enamored of hearing my own voice that I started to put on airs and assigning myself bodyguards, why I fear that my fellow assembly men would order me stripped of my Chairmanship! No, my dear, he isn’t a bodyguard; he is the Military Attaché from the Sub-Assembly on Warfare. Or…perhaps ‘Advisor’ might be a better term? I’m not exactly sure…” Bottletop trailed off contemplatively. He eventually gave himself a shake, which was a rather odd-looking gesture coming from a mechanical, “I’ll admit, however, that he does get a bit overprotective at times.”
“So what exactly can the two of us do for you, Chairman?” Bethany asked after it was clear the Droid was done speaking.
“Do for me?” the Chairman gave himself a shake that rattled his whole body.
“What brings you here in such a good mood?” Bethany smoothly rephrased.
“Oh, certainly,” Bottletop IIV said sounding distracted then with a snap his whole body seemed to reorient on the Princess-Cadet and he became much more animated, “I am here to relay the Assembly’s decision!”
“Good news, I hope?” Bethany said, looking poised and collected—the exact opposite of the emotions running through Tremblay right at that moment.
“Only the very best!” Bottletop IIV declared happily.
Tremblay breathed a quiet sigh of relief.
“Per our agreement,” the Droid continued blithely unaware of the sudden lessening of tension in his two human guests, “the Assembly has agreed to set up a time and place for the Prisoner Exchange.”
“What!?” Bethany exclaimed and Tremblay’s heart literally stopped beating.
“Yes, isn’t it wonderful?” the Chairman Droid beamed at them.
“Space gods, we’re—,” Tremblay despaired, causing Bubblegum’s gun arms to swerve around until both of them fixed unerringly upon the Intelligence Officer. His mouth snapped shut with an audible click as he realized that keeping his mouth shut and comments to himself might be of life extending importance in his immediate near future.
“I begin to calculate a difficulty,” Bottletop said crossly.
“Not at all…except,” Bethany seemed at a temporary loss of words and then she took a deep breath, “it’s just that…due to the lack of communications, we have been unable to communicate with the Home Office…or, err…” she stumbled over the improper, and very much non-Fleet terminology.
Tremblay, knowing their mutual survival likely depended on it, came to the rescue. “That is, we haven’t—yet—been able to relay our acceptance of the Prisoner Exchange provisions,” he said speaking quickly.
Bottletop IIV rattled with relief his whole body leaning forward.
“Oh, fear not faulty output on this issue,” the Droid said happily. “Simply prepare a document detailing your acceptance of the Prisoner Exchange Precondition and the message will be transmitted directly to your Principle.”
“It might be several weeks before we could get a reply,” Bethany said smoothly, “perhaps in the meantime—”
“We have penetrated your Fleet’s long-range communications network,” Bottletop interrupted her peremptorily. “Without going into proprietary details, let me just say that while two-way communication is out of the question, a simple document with your acceptance of this provision which details a time and place for the exchange to occur can be sent and received by your Admiral without any signal degradation.”
Bethany looked taken aback while Tremblay’s felt instant heart burn.
“Is it just your group, or all the Droid Tribes that have penetrated, err, our communication’s security,” the Intelligence Officer demanded faintly.
“Oh, it’s only our group that has such access at this time,” Bottletop IIV informed him placidly.
Tremblay could almost sense the smugness radiating off the other’s metal exterior—it made him want to twist off its mechanical head. Even a Montagne, as shudder-inducing and wretched as he found that particular thought, was better than a Droid—and whether he actually was or wasn’t, the MSP was a human fleet. To have its communications intercepted and decoded by what was clearly no friend of humanity was unthinkable. Yet here he was, and this…creature was not forcing his mind down those very awful tracks.
“I see,” Bethany said faintly, and Tremblay wondered if she was trying to calculate the odds of their surviving if and when the droids crushed the Little Admiral’s Fleet.
The Intelligence Officer felt a pang at the idea of all those officers and crew that he used to know and lead being ground under some droid boot-heel simply because he wasn’t a good enough negotiator and proved unable to deceive these droids. He silently vowed to do a better job of being duplicitous in the future. It was one thing for humans to kill humans for internal reasons, but another entire to sit by while the Machine threat attempted the same.
“Now that that’s settled, if we could move onto the particulars of communication protocol and joint maneuvers—assuming we take your deal over that of the Dark Seers. I am informed by Victory Through Bubblegum that these particulars could be a key element,” the Chairman said continuing on blithely.
Tremblay was too wrapped up in the implications of an intelligence breach of this nature and one so lightly relayed to them by this Chairman so-called that he nearly missed the implications of the Droid’s last statement.
Not so the Princess-Cadet.
“Dark Seers?” Bethany asked sharply. “Is this yet another supposed Faction vying for your support?”
“Oh dear,” Bottletop said, the single large, red eye in the center of his smashball-shaped head blinked rapidly, “I process that I may have spoken out of queue, crossing signals and subsequently confusing the situation. Please pay my thoughtless utterance no mind. What I meant to say was—”
There was a sound at the door, and a hooded figure with his, her, or its face hidden under the cowl of its robe came into the room. But vastly more disconcerting than the concealing attire was the fact that he, she, or it floated a good two feet off the ground.
Bottletop stopped speaking as suddenly as if his vocal circuits had been pulled.
The figure turned from the humans to the droids, and back again to the humans before gently settling back down to the ground, “Esteemed Chairman, you spoke of me and here I am,” said the intruder in a light ethereal tone, with a definitely feminine qual
ity to her voice and then she nodded to Bethany, “Princess Competitor, I have eyes that see you.”
The Intelligence Officer observed that the tall thin figure wore a hooded robe bearing vestments littered with black opals that seemed to glisten—when they weren’t almost unnaturally sucking all the light out of the room. He shook his head, blinking away black spots from his vision, spots similar to those which appeared after staring at a star for too long.
“And you are?” Bethany asked finding her voice before Tremblay did.
The Dark Seer turned back to the Chairman. “The Fractals are unusual in this combination, Chairman,” the Seer said, her voice no longer as light as before, “I would warn you against decisions made in haste and without full consideration of all the pertinent waves and patterns.”
“Yes, well, I was just speaking with these biologicals on a distinctly separate issue from that which you have broached with us,” Bottletop IIV sounded strained, his limbs rattling as he leaned back and away from the figure.
“A critical nexus approaches,” the cowled figure said, her voice darkening. “I advise you to choose your position carefully, for events are about to set into motion which will completely reorder the pattern of this Sector.”
“Again,” Bottletop said, his voice firming, “these are completely separate issues!”
“The Patrons I represent will consider them linked,” the Dark Seer said direly.
“Who is this person?” Bethany demanded stepping forward and placing her hands on her hips.
There was a whine as an anti-gravity system powered up, and the cowled figured levitated and turned toward the Princess-Cadet.
“You asked for an accommodation. Were you denied?” Bottletop said, speaking urgently. “No, it was granted!”