Admiral Invincible (A Spineward Sectors Novel: Book 7)

by Luke Sky Wachter

  “It’s time to call this meeting to order!” the man called out, banging a spoon against his glass until the room settled and focused on him. Whereupon he drew himself up into a stern paternal mask, “greetings fellow officers, I am Fleet Admiral Preceptor and I would like to take this moment to welcome you all to my pride and joy, the Battleship, Dark Abyss.”

  There were a few sideways glances exchanged and then a couple of the officers at the table stood up and began to clap, however only a few others joined the clappers and before long the scatted applause withered and died, most likely from embarrassment at being the only ones applauding.

  Admiral Preceptor of the Dark Abyss turned red around the forehead and then began to glower a bit before regaining his composure. Apparently everything was not going as smoothly for the Leader of the Dark Abyss as he had hoped.

  I covered a smirk with the back of my hand. It was nice to see that I wasn’t the only one with planned speeches that had gone sideways on me.

  “Now, as I was saying, we are gathered here today for the third official meeting of the Mutual Defense League. First, let us welcome our newest participants,” he said and this was followed by muted clapping, “next, let’s start with the first item on the agenda.”

  “I protest,” said a brown-skinned man with a turban on his head, “why was I not allowed to bring my Executive Officer!”

  “I’m afraid that, for the purposes of this meeting, only those members possessing battleships are allowed more than one representative,” Admiral Preceptor said politely, “now, moving on. After updating our order of battle, we need to establish an agreed upon unified encryption code and plan of attack.”

  “Now, Preceptor, old lad that seems a bit like putting the cart before the horse,” said the jolly old Admiral, who stood with a laborious sigh and a mournful look at the Admiral of the Dark Abyss. “Before we can plan a battle, we need to have a Fleet Commander lined up. It just wouldn’t be right to pick a guy and then tell him how to fight our battles!”

  If the Admiral of the Dark Abyss’s forehead had turned red the last time he had been interrupted, it was nothing compared to the red rage darkening his face now.

  “Yes, but the last two times we’ve tried to decide on a leader the meeting has broken up on the shoals of—” started Admiral Preceptor, but his words went by unheeded as the very long table filled with officers and, in fact, the entire room descended into instant anarchy.

  “We must have a seasoned battle leader!” declared Admiral Block. “One who has proven himself in the crucible of battle and life-threatening emergencies!”

  “The last thing we need is another Core Worlder trying to dominate everything,” snapped an officer with Lieutenant Commander marks. “This conference should appoint a Fleet Commander from one of the smaller world’s system fleets!”

  “That is outrageous,” declared a Commodore with a pencil thin mustache and a whole lot of attitude. “No one from a smaller system militia would have any idea how to run a fleet. The opportunity to learn has simply never presented itself to such an officer.”

  “Militia?!” huffed several of the officers who hadn’t even rated a chair, and were instead lined up along the wall.

  “Gentlemen, gentlemen…and ladies!” protested Admiral Preceptor, giving a side long look at a few females who turned to glare at him, “we must have calm. Nothing can be accomplished if we abandon the very discipline we demand so rightfully from our own subordinates.”

  “Who died and made you space god, Preceptor?” heckled sometime on the other side of the room but shortly after that things started to settle down.

  It was almost as if the silence before the storm and then.

  “I nominate Admiral Block,” declared one of the small fry contingent leaders—my best guess, judging from his strange rank boards, was that he was a Captain.

  “Outrageous!” shouted the Lieutenant Commander that seemed to decry anything Core Worlder.

  “A wise choice,” the aide standing next to Block declared loudly and enthusiastically.

  The meeting promptly degenerated back into chaos.

  Looking across the table, I saw the man with the place name in front of his seat that declared him High Captain Manning sitting there with his arms crossed and shaking his head.

  For a second our eyes crossed in a moment of mutual understanding, and we shook our heads at the folly taking place around us.

  “We need someone with legitimacy,” declared the bombastic Commodore who had just been gossiping about my status, “someone who can weld us together as a Fleet.”

  “Although I suspect it’s the only thing the Commodore and I will agree on, I second that motion,” declared the angsty, anti-Core-Worlder, Lieutenant Commander

  At this, Judge Kong—who had snuck into the meeting while I hadn’t been watching—stepped quickly up to the table.

  “As the League Representative from Harmony, I would like to say a few words in support of this motion…if I may,” he said respectfully and looking over at Fleet Admiral Preceptor.

  The Fleet Admiral of the Dark Abyss grimaced and made a sour face before sighing. “I suppose everyone and their kid brother has had the chance to have their say; why not the Representative from Harmony?”

  Taking this as permission, Kong Pao nodded to the Fleet Admiral and then turned to face the table and then pointed to me.

  I fought the urge to frown. I didn’t know these officers but this didn’t feel like the best time to press my case, but from the determined expression on the Sector Judge’s face it was happening—whether I was fully behind it or not.

  “If we need a unifying figure we need look no further than Admiral Montagne, a Confederation Officer,” he said stressing my Confederation status, “has come here with a relief Fleet from his post in Sector 25 at my urging. I’m sure that, even if we can’t set aside our individual World differences, everyone can agree that a Confederation Admiral stands outside and above our usual squabbles and disagreements. Let us unify once more under the all-encompassing banner of the Confederation Fleet! Surely all can see the wisdom of that.”

  The room seemed to take a breath before they proved just how blinded to this wisdom they could be.

  “This is outrageous,” growled Admiral Block and the Lieutenant Commander against all Core Worlders at exactly the same time.

  They paused to look at one another in sheer surprise. Sensing the opening—and that I wasn’t going to get another in which to try and shape the argument in the direction I wanted—I stood up. It was time to seize the moment.

  “Most of you don’t know me, but I am Admiral Montagne,” I said, refusing to let my youth make me hesitant. I might not be as polished or have gone to a premier military academy like the officers here—those of them that went to an Academy, anyway—but I’d been through the harshest tests of all: combat. And I’d been on patrols, lighting raids and ship-to-ship actions for the past two years. I gave a sharp nod, “I am also a Confederation Admiral. At the request of the MDL in light of this unprecedented Droid Invasion, I dropped everything—including certain tasks critical for the MSP’s continued operations—in order to come and assist in the defeat of these droids. If unifying this Fleet requires my assuming command of this Multi-Sector force, then it is a duty I will shoulder.”

  There was a pregnant silence as people stared at me.

  “Who? Who is this Officer? Admiral Who?” demanded Fleet Admiral Preceptor, turning his palms up and staring around the room in bewilderment. My eyes narrowed as he hammed it up.

  “The last I heard, Admiral Janeski was in command of the Multi-Sector Patrol Fleet,” declared the gossiper who’d been spreading rumors earlier.

  “The Confederation abandoned us!” cried one of the local border world representatives. “Why should we trust it now? We are an independent region of the Spine.”

  “People!” I urged, raising my hands.

  “Independent until the machines get here, and then what?” snarled an
other ship commander, “I say—”

  “Gentlemen, please,” I cried, but it was not to be.

  “All I want to know is how many Battleships the Confederation Admiral is bringing,” sneered Admiral Block.

  At this, heads turned my direction as they waited for my answer.

  Taking a deep breath, I quickly released it and put on my best, winning smile. “I have no Battleships at this time. Presently the largest unit in my Fleet is a Strike Cruiser,” I explained, refusing to be cowed.

  “Just because a Captain isn’t riding a Battleship doesn’t mean he can’t—,” stared the Lieutenant Commander.

  “Anyone who wants to command this Fleet had better by the Demon have a blasted Battleship!” declared Admiral Block and heads nodded wisely with only a few of the smaller commanders looking dissatisfied, “I vote No.”

  “I second the motion to vote No,” Fleet Admiral Preceptor said, “and propose that only officers with Battleships in their Fleet be eligible for the position of Fleet Commander of the Mutual Defense League.”

  In short order, my nomination was voted down and the motion for only Battleship Commanders to be eligible for Fleet Commander carried.

  This was going to be a long day.

  *************************************************

  The doors of the Phoenix closed behind us and I stepped out of the shuttle.

  “I take it things went less than ideally,” Laurent said now that we were finally back in a totally secure area.

  I chopped a hand dismissively. “Captains without battleships need not apply,” I said drolly.

  “But, Admiral, we do have a battleship,” Laurent reminded me.

  “Certainly, Captain,” I agreed, “it’s just not here with us.”

  “And you don’t want to tell them about her,” the Captain nodded.

  I cocked a finger and fired it imaginatively. “No need to show all our cards at the first opportunity,” I said placidly, “besides, depending on how quickly the League gets its act together, the Power may or may not arrive in time for the major battle. I’d look pretty foolish saying I had a Battleship only for it to never show up.”

  “I can see that,” Laurent said, “however…” he trailed off, looking disconcerted.

  “I’m an Admiral, not a Captain?” I inquired and then rolled my eyes. “No one knows us here. No one trusts us here. And despite the high and wide promises of Judge Kong in order to get us here, I don’t think they’re going to fall all over themselves to make me Fleet Commander,” I peered off into the distance for a moment.

  “Not exactly where I was going,” the Captain demurred.

  “Oh,” I said, feeling foolish, “well the game was rigged anyway. So it’s not like I had much of a shot at the fleet command position either. In retrospect, I mean.”

  “Those blighters,” Laurent swore, “it’s never easy is it?”

  “No, Captain, it’s not,” I agreed heavily and then I brightened, “but that’s why they pay us the big bucks.”

  “Who’s this ‘us’, Admiral?” Laurent gave me a mock serious glare.

  “Haven’t you heard?” I asked facetiously. “Mu-Heracles made a significant down payment on their back taxes a few weeks ago!”

  “I haven’t seen a centa-cred,” the Captain said skeptically.

  “The check is in the mail,” I said breezily.

  Laurent snorted with laughter.

  I quickly made a notation on my pad instructing the ship’s purser to ensure any back wages owed the crew or officers were paid in full, and should be drawn out of those ‘Confederation’ funds we’d liberated from Mu-Heracles.

  “Let’s continue this conversation in the conference room,” I said, seeing the number of crew hanging around the shuttle area.

  The trip through the ship felt shorter than usual as we traveled to the lift and then into the conference room.

  “So, what’s our next move, Admiral?” Laurent asked curiously.

  I was curious to know the answer to that particular question as well, but it was important to hide that fact so I did what I usually do when I don’t know what’s next. It was time to baffle them with baloney and sprinkle in enough truth to throw them off the scent—but first, the truth.

  “After having sat through that joke of a council for most of the day, the one thing I can say with certainty is that nothing of major import is going to happen there…except by accident,” I started off seriously.

  “So where does that leave us?” Laurent asked leaning forward.

  I sat down behind the table taking the few moments it took to order my thoughts.

  “Most of the wheeling and dealing will be done behind the scenes. In little private and semi-private meetings of just two or three,” I explained chewing my lip as I thought, “normally I’d say we’d have a decent chance, at least of effecting policy, but it was made quite clear that Admirals without battleships need not apply. Despite the size of our Fleet, I don’t think they’re going to be falling all over themselves to pamper our egos—or, my ego, rather,” I added more truthfully.

  “So we need to find out who’s important and make overtures,” Laurent guessed and I could tell it was a guess by the uneasy look on his face and the hesitancy in his voice. Clearly the idea of the top levels of the military acting in this way was disconcerting to him.

  “Three things work against us. First, we lack of a battleship; second, no one knows us, or our reputation in Sector 25; and third, we’re Confederation Fleet,” I held up a hand as he looked about to protest. “In a way, that last helps in that it gives us some instant cachet, but in another it decidedly works against us. They don’t want the representative of an organization that’s failed them to show up and start ordering them around, regardless of whatever the law says.”

  “I can see that,” Laurent said sourly, “it’d just be nice, for once, if instead of being run out of town or had noses turned up at our presence we got some benefit from showing up and helping.”

  “We’re not going anywhere, regardless of how this plays out,” I said firmly, and I could see the fractional easing in his shoulders. Apparently, despite his words the Flag Captain was still worried I was about to let my ego get in the way of saving lives. I had to admit it was a legitimate concern when you treated someone—especially someone with a fleet of warships—in a way that would have the average man on the street spitting mad and determined to pick up his chips and storm home. Still, worries like the Captain’s were not minor concerns.

  “That’s good to know, sir,” he agreed.

  “We’re just going to have to keep an ear to the ground and make sure the MDL doesn’t run itself aground. This is going to be more of a diplomatic and political mission than a strictly military one,” I said, remembering some of the power politicking that had taken place when powerful visiting diplomats had stopped over at the palace, “at least until after we get a Fleet Commander. After that, it’s anything could happen.”

  “Better you than me, Admiral,” Laurent said fervently.

  I gave him a sour look, “For right now, the most important thing is to make sure we’re not forgotten in the shuffle. It’s not the hand we’ve been dealt that matters most right now, but rather how we play our cards,” I said with a frown.

  “I’m just a simple, Captain, and particularly glad of it at the moment,” Laurent said with relief, “better you than me out there in that snake pit.”

  “Gee, thanks for that ringing endorsement,” I quipped sardonically. Then I took a breath, “I’m going to need Steiner and her communication team, as well as you and First Officer Eastwood. It’s time to put out some feelers and see which way the wind is blowing.”

  “On it,” Laurent said crisply, he ran his tongue over his top front teeth and then shot me a look, “you know we aren’t likely to get a better chance to repatriate some of the prisoners still stuck in cryo than we are right here. There are representatives from a large portion of two Sectors here.”

&nb
sp; I hesitated and then after a moment shook my head firmly.

  “No,” I said determinedly, “it’s not time to play that card just yet.”

  “Card, sir?” Laurent said with censure in his voice. “Those men and women aren’t cards on some poker table to be shuffled around at the dealers’ whim, nor are they mere lives to be played with. They’re flesh and blood human beings that deserve the chance to go home.”

  “No, Laurent,” I said forcing down the pain I felt at disagreeing with him on the subject, because ultimately I didn’t, the words were a lodestone in my gut, “what they are is men and women who swore and oath to protect their worlds, and right now this is their best chance of doing that.”

  “Their best chance in what universe, sir?” Laurent swore hotly. “Right now they’re pop-sickles; they can’t protect anything!”

  I stared at him unblinkingly, but he refused to be cowed. My eyes narrowed and I nodded fractionally. “Make a list of those SDF personnel whose counterparts have ships at this meeting,” I said finally, “those, I can see handing over as soon as is practical. But the rest can best serve their worlds by staying right where they are for the moment. They will be unfrozen in due time.”

  “And just who gets to decide that?” Laurent said only partially mollified by my words.

  At this my face and voice hardened. “Me, of course, Captain,” I said biting off his rank, “and my decision is final until I decide it’s wisest to change it. Right now, for all we know this meeting will run aground the shoals of raging egos and splinter into a hundred pieces, with warships scattering back to their home worlds as fast as their drives can take them, leaving us—you and me!—to pick up the pieces. So unless and until this prospective Fleet is unified and has a plan for battle that doesn’t just involve sitting on its hands doing nothing, we—that means, you, me and the MSP—must do everything in our power to maintain our ability to defend these Sectors and give ourselves a fighting chance in the process.”

  Laurent looked taken aback.

  “They may cut and run when the odds get too high, but that’s not the way we operate,” I said coldly. “No, Captain, we’re in it for the duration—and so are the officers and crew in cryogenic storage. I assure you, as soon as I see the chance to thaw them out so that they can be an asset in the defense of these Sectors, I will do so. And if they were alive and kicking instead of blocks of ice, my decision-making process would be very different. But they don’t feel a thing at the moment, and the time that passes doesn’t impact them like it would if they were stuck in cramped little cells on a dungeon ship. They at least have that blessing.”