Admiral Invincible (A Spineward Sectors Novel: Book 7)

by Luke Sky Wachter

  The droid approximation of laughter swept the room. It went on for the better part of a minute before the thump of oversized feet, accompanied by an animalistic growl filled the room.

  Servos whined as a slightly larger, but clearly more primitive, version of Bubblegum strode from the side of the room into the open center.

  “Oh, dear, the bailiff is activated,” Bottletop said, sounding far more excited by this turn of events than concerned by it.

  “That’s the bailiff?” Tremblay sounded impressed and alarmed.

  “ED 209 is the same model, yet an earlier version of Bubblegum. It’s fascinating the divergence in personalities between the two,” Bottletop IIV said, pointing to the oversized assault droid now dominating the center of the Assembly.

  “A dominating presence, wouldn’t you agree?” asked a nearby Droid who’d been listening in, before turning back to speak to its neighbor on the other side of it, not waiting for an answer.

  “What’s next on the agenda?” demanded Bitterly Empowered, the Supreme Droid Chairman, before gesturing toward ED 209.

  “He just instructed the bailiff to call the first material speaker,” rattled Bottletop.

  “Who’s that?” Bethany asked absently, too busy observing the droids in their natural habitat.

  “Why, you, my dear,” Chairman Bottletop replied, placing a hand on her arm and urging her down into the center of the droid assembly.

  The Bailiff stomped his massive, oversized legs on the duralloy floor until there was silence, “A number of respected Droid Assemblers are urging a vote on their proposal to assist human forces in the overthrow and defeat of the Droid Tribe, Harmony through Specialization and Droid Tribe Unification through Conformity. As a Material Witness, they call upon Princess-Cadet and Sector Representative Bethany Tilday Vekna!”

  As she walked over to what she assumed was the speaker’s dais, which was a slightly raised, rectangular platform in the middle of the open area, the room was once again filled with hissing static from the droid vox-boxes.

  Ignoring the droid equivalent of boos and heckling, she strode imperiously onto the rectangular platform and turned on her heel to see the droids. Pausing to gather her thoughts, a small smile graced her face before disappearing.

  “As you know, I am Ambassador Bethany Tilday,” she smiled serenely at the shaking fists and continued voice static coming from the droids, “and it is my job to try and convince you to support Jason Montagne’s insane plan to fight off the other droids invading these Sectors. However, I would not be doing my duty as Ambassador if I did not inform you fully of the great dangers your Assembly of Sentient Droids would be placing itself in. The Multi-Sector Patrol Fleet recently engaged in a vicious, fratricidal fight in the star system of Tracto which left it greatly weakened. I don’t want to bias you against joining forces with my cousin, in his post as Admiral of the MSP Fleet,” she lied without a qualm, “however, honesty compels me to point out that you would most certainly be joining the weaker of two sides. Therefore, while I am duty-bound to ask for your help, it is my recommendation that your Assembly remain neutral in the upcoming conflict. Please, as you value your lives and livelihoods, do not throw your support behind Admiral Jason Montagne and the MSP!”

  As she had been talking, the noise within the Assembly Chamber had slowly died down but moments after she stopped, pandemonium erupted.

  Droids shouted, droids yelled, droids engaged in fisticuffs with their neighbors and, despite all his stomping, ED 209’s calls for order went unheeded.

  There was a screeching sound, as if from an improperly tuned microphone, and then the Supreme Chairman started pounding on his podium.

  “Order in the Assembly. Order! Because of the extraordinary situation we find ourselves in, I would like to make a motion and call for a vote: I call for prolonged time for vote tallies to be taken, and against helping the humans in this war we did not start. I make this proposal because of the great damage humanity has done to machine Sentients everywhere, in their bigotry and short-sighted hatred, as well as because of the great burden an eight second deliberation and vote casting period places on those of us with slower processing cycles,” the Supreme Chairman said passionately.

  Blinking rapidly, Bethany stared at Bitterly Empowered as the Supreme Chairman continued to rant nonstop about how a mere eight seconds of deliberation threatened to disenfranchise older model droids or those with download compatibility issues, or sketchy network connections.

  Bottletop, who appeared to have been speaking urgently and rapidly with his nearby droid seatmates, paused long enough to stand up and shout back at the Chairman.

  “We have already increased the deliberation period twice, at your urging—and this despite the fact that the Assembly currently has no voting members who are older model or with download compatibility issues!” he yelled, shaking a fist at the Supreme Chairman.

  “Young Sprout is from a line model that hasn’t been produced in almost 500 years!” shouted back Bitterly Empowered as he pointed to an elderly looking droid.

  “I refuse to be discriminated against because of my model,” bellowed the Droid in question, this Young Sprout, “and demand that the Supreme Chairman’s bigoted comments on my model type be stricken from the record!” Young Sprout sprang to his feet after saying this and then jumped, causing a loud clang as a large piece of metal fell off his back.

  “Brainwashed and personality overridden, the whole lot of you!” raged Bitterly Empowered before falling into a diatribe about oppressed droids that didn’t even realize just how much they had been oppressed by their comrades ‘so-called’.

  Finally breaking down, ED 209 spoke in a thunderous voice, “Enough of this debating. If we cannot agree which side to support then let us attack all sides in this upcoming conflict. The military Sub-Committee has already assembled battle plans for every contingency. Just give us the word and we will attack.”

  Smirking, and unable to help herself, Bethany returned to her seat in the metal bleachers. Not one of the droids bothered to try and stop her, and she knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that her work here was done. That should teach her blasted Cousin the folly of locking her in a storage closet for weeks on end with no one and nothing but the company of a parliamentary intelligence officer of low intelligence.

  Tremblay had a hand on Bottletop’s arm and was urging him forward as he made for her former position on the dais. Glaring at her as he passed, he didn’t stop long enough to verbally rebuke her even though she could see the desire to yell at her in his eye.

  “Chairman Bitterly Empowered, I and Chairman Bottletop IIV beseech you,” the former Intelligence Officer said desperately, “ignore the words of my colleague. She has a personal cause against Admiral Montagne. I beg you and the United Sentients Assembly to assist us in the upcoming Battle. Don’t let the billions of innocent sentients in Sectors 23 and 24, who weren’t even born when your people were cast out of Known Space, suffer because of past grudges and the words of one vindictive woman!”

  “Yes, indeed,” Bottletop said, his head snapping around from where he’d been looking off to the side as soon as Tremblay stopped speaking, “we can’t even think of settling on a battle plan until we decide who we’re fighting, which is why I brought the humans here. As a side note, I would urge this assembly to avoid further investment in the advanced tech interface and think of the children. We have nearly two hundred cores recently liberated from human oppression. We must think of them and their development as sentients first and foremost—something which will be quite hard to do if the vast majority of our efforts go toward spying, infiltration and defense. Therefore I submit that we must move to end this conflict quickly, which will not happen if the humans of these Sectors are defeated!”

  Bethany threw behind her head and laughed when Tremblay put his face in his hands in despair.

  Chapter 19: Grand Meetings and even grander Battle Plans

  “Fellow Officers, we are one jump from Elysiu
m. I wanted to have one final meeting before arriving in my home system and, firstly to go over the battle plan for in the unlikely fact that the droids have beat us here. Secondly, to ensure that everyone is familiar with their part in the plan to lure the Droids deeper into Elysium Star System, and crush them once and for all when they do arrive,” said Grand Admiral Manning.

  I nodded my head as officers around the room verbalized their agreement. I had a few issues, things I might have done differently, but I would need to bide my time. I hadn’t allowed Kong Pao to convince me to travel all the way out here, weeks out of my way just to stand in the side lines looking pretty.

  “To recap,” Sector Commandant and Grand Fleet Admiral Manning said, pulling up a holo-representation on the screen of his conference room. We were meeting on the Flagship—his Battleship, Elysium’s Defiance—which was a change from the days of Admiral Preceptor running things from the Dark Abyss, “there are a number of contingency plans. If the Droid arrive in inferior strength, we will close and destroy. If they are stronger than us then we will sally forth with a spoiling attack, hitting any soft targets that might present themselves. This will get their attention, and we will then fall back to the Forge. The Forge is a mineral extraction and fixed defensive system orbiting planetary body number VII, a Jovian System within Elysium, and is designed to protect the Trillium mines of Urapente and drive off anything up to and including battleship level attackers. If it seems possible that both the Fleet, and the defenses of the Forge, cannot defeat or drive off the Droid Fleets then we will bring the enemy as close to Urapente and the Forge as possible. We will then detonate the trillium mines, annihilating the Droids along with any of our own ships unfortunate enough to be unable to escape.”

  “I still have difficulty believing Elysium would really sacrifice her trillium mines to defeat the Droids,” Preceptor said gruffly, and then as Manning’s face stiffened he quickly added, “not that I’m doubting you. It’s just I know how important Trillium is to the system’s economy. Your world’s economy would be crippled.”

  “Damaged is not dead, which is what we’ll all be—including Elysium—if the various droid factions invading human space are brought sharply to heel,” the High Captain said firmly. “Economies can be fixed and mineral resources reacquired, but the lives of our people cannot. I speak for my entire government when I say that in order to defeat this enemy, we are prepared to do anything within our power, including the destruction of the mines, to save the Sectors.”

  Heads nodded around the room, and even I had to grudgingly admit that, if he wasn’t full of it and pulling some deep scheme, maybe Manning had been the right man for the job after all. But even if that were true, I still had a few points on my agenda that needed to be addressed.

  Which is why I stood up and raised a hand. “Yes, Admiral Montagne,” High Captain Manning, Sector Commandant and Grand Admiral of the MDL Fleet asked with forced patience, “what can I do for the Tracto-an Defense Force?”

  I delivered a wide smile in response to hide my urge to frown at the dig; I still wasn’t used to being considered anything but the Confederation Fleet. When someone has worked as long and as hard as I have for something like the MSP even voluntarily giving it up, temporary as it was—

  The Grand Admiral cleared his throat, breaking my train of thought and reminding me that I was the center of everyone’s attention. Firming my features to hide my consternation at being caught out woolgathering, I bowed slightly.

  “First, I’d like to reaffirm the…Tracto-an Fleet’s support of the Grand Admiral and the MDL. What we’re attempting here could save dozens of worlds and millions—or even billions—of lives,” I said, working at coming across passionately.

  “Thank you for the sentiment, Admiral, but if there’s nothing else?” Manning shook his head.

  “Next,” I continued unfazed, “I would like to request the command codes for destroying the Trillium mines. Should the droids come in as strong of a force as we believe, anything could happen and so I believe those codes…”

  I trailed off as Manning shook his head and made a slashing gesture with his hand. “Only Elysium command personnel and the System Government on Prime will have the access codes,” he said flatly.

  I suppressed a frown. I’d hoped to sneak that one in, but I hadn’t really expected success. However, I’d had to try; no one likes to be fighting within range of a destructive force capable of destroying his ship and fleet without being in control of the trigger.

  “I understand your position,” I said finally, “however, my point still remains. What happens if you and your Flagship are destroyed? The transmission lag between this Forge and Elysium Prime could mean the difference between catching the Droid Fleet around those mines and them escaping total destruction and getting away. Our sacrifice would be in vain.”

  “Your point is well taken,” Manning said, his gaze hard as he looked at me, “it is my plan to disperse elements of the Elysium Defense Force throughout the greater fleet. This way, if anything were to happen to myself or the other command ships of the Elysium SDF, there should still be any number of Officers with the necessary codes to make sure the droids pay for their attack on our home system.”

  “All right,” I said, mind racing as I tried to decide if this was a good thing or not. Having multiple ship captains ready able and willing to destroy the Elysium mines on a moment’s notice…from a paranoid point of view they were making the right call. I sure as Murphy was my witness didn’t want anyone but myself and maybe, possibly, a few trusted officers, capable of destroying our Tracto-an Trillium mines—or being able to seize control of them after a battle. Of course, in our case, the Tracto-an mines were scattered throughout an entire asteroid belt, but still the point was well considered.

  “If there was nothing else,” Manning said looking pointedly at my seat, then starting to look away.

  “One more thing,” I said smoothly.

  The flicker in Manning’s eye and the tightening of his jaw indicated that I was seriously getting on his patience, but he responded like the professional he was, gesturing for me to continue.

  “The area around the Jovian, I would like it declared a non-hab zone for the purposes of this upcoming battle,” I replied calmly.

  “The mines themselves are inhabited by workers, and there are several heavily-populated scientific stations scattered throughout the moons of VII,” Manning said with a bite to his tone.

  “And yet we are planning, as our main contingency plan, to completely destroy Urapente, doing who knows how much damage to any human population around the Forge,” I riposted without heat.

  “What is this about, Montagne?” Manning demanded.

  “Salvage rights,” I said, lacing my voice with surprise, “it was clearly stated that anything taken by ships of the MDL fleet in the outer reaches of the Elysium Star System were to be considered ours, but anything within the system was to be Elysium’s. Since the Jovian is considered a populated zone with heavy fixed defenses, yet also an area we intend to completely destroy if necessary, I wanted a clarification.” The High Captain’s eyes turned to ice and I could hear comments behind me.

  “Vulture,” muttered one officer.

  “Confederation,” another said turning the word into a curse.

  But I was immune to the murmuring and, despite the words to the contrary, I could see enough support from those less vocal that this issue wasn’t just going away.

  “If salvage rights are all that concern you, Admiral,” Grand Admiral Manning said coldly, “then fine, the Jovian and the region around the Forge will be declared a non-hab zone. If there’s nothing else, let’s get back to the rest of the briefing,” he continued, his words a complete dismissal that dared me to speak again.

  So rather than defend myself and say that salvage rights were not my only concern—not even my top concern, in truth—I simply sat back down in my chair. The meeting was long, and I’d lost ground and respect in some quarters, but on
the whole I’d gotten what I needed out of the meeting.

  Because believe it or not, I fully intended to win this battle—with or without the respect and wholehearted support of every officer in the MDL.

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

  After returning to the ship, I called for Steiner over my com-link.

  “Warrant Steiner here, Admiral,” the com-tech said seconds later.

  “I want you and the Chief Engineer in my conference room by the time I arrive there,” I ordered walking out of the shuttle bay, “and prepare the long-range array. I need to send a message to Commodore Druid.”

  “Druid, sir?” Steiner paused. “On it right now, Admiral. And I’ll call down to Engineering and have—”

  “I don’t mean the man my wife placed in charge of the Phoenix’s engineering department. I mean my Chief Engineer—get me Commander Spalding,” I said flatly.

  “Everything will be ready upon your arrival, sir,” she said crisply.

  Still upset, I wanted to lash out. But she wasn’t a mind reader, so instantly understanding what I wanted versus what I had said was not yet a crime. So instead of giving vent to my spleen, after a long meeting where I was viewed as the bad guy for requesting that non-hab zone inclusion, I politely signed off. I took a deep breath and then began a leisurely stroll to the lift.

  Knowing the Commander like I did, I doubted he could beat me to the conference room even if he wanted to—something which was highly in doubt. No doubt he was stuck in the middle of some arcane rebuild down below on the Intelligence half-deck he had commandeered for his workshop.

  Deciding that discretion was the greater part of valor, I impulsively hit the touch pad to take me to the mess hall instead of directly to the conference room.

  Entering the mess, I nonchalantly headed over for a light tray of fruits and breads. I was most of the way through the line when I looked over and saw Chief Engineer Tiberius Spalding sitting at a table with my Sister Ishtaraaa—and their heads were close together.