Admiral Invincible (A Spineward Sectors Novel: Book 7)

by Luke Sky Wachter

  My eyes met my sister’s at the same time. She visibly started and then scowled at me, jerking away from the table and storming out of the hall. Seeing me looking at them, Tiberius’ shoulders hunched and then he frowned. Picking up his tray, he turned and left the room also.

  “That’s interesting,” I said with narrowed eyes. A little collusion between two of the people with the most reason to see me harmed on this ship wasn’t exactly the relaxing, time-killing notion I had envisioned when entering the mess.

  Taking a bite of fruit and shoving a piece of bread in my pocket, I walked over to the trash bin without stopping at a table and dumped the contents of my tray.

  Pulling out my com-link, I looked through my contacts until I found Gants’ number. I sent him a message to have someone from his team follow both my sister and our new Chief Engineer—I wasn’t about to allow another mutiny onboard my ship.

  I was still typing away as I stepped into the turbo-lift. Although, even as I was typing, I wondered if a short trip out the airlock might not solve a lot of my problems.

  “Unfortunately, they’re both family,” I sighed aloud.

  “Admiral?” asked a rating, wondering if I was talking to him.

  “Carry on, crewman,” I said breezily, leaning over to punch in a priority code which would take this lift directly to my conference room without stopping along the way.

  “Yes sir,” the rating said looking relieved.

  I smiled and kept smiling until lift door opened. Allowing my smile to fade, I walked over and into the room.

  To my pleasure both Commander Spalding and Lisa Steiner were waiting for me.

  “We’re ready to send that message anytime, Admiral,” the little brown skinned com-tech informed me dutifully.

  “Excellent news,” I replied briskly, “give me a moment first.”

  “Yes sir,” she answered.

  “Aye, Admiral,” Spalding said, “was there something ye wanted from the pair of us, or was this more on the nature of a social call?”

  “No time to shoot the breeze, Chief Engineer,” I said with a penetrating look, “we’re on the clock this time.”

  “Then, if I may be so bold, sir. What exactly is it you need me for?” the old Engineer asked a fire lighting in his eyes that had been far too long absent for most of this trip. A weariness and faint sadness that had seemed to lurk over the older man faded away before my eyes.

  “My wife’s been complaining that I do far too much of my planning during planning meetings, so I figured it was time I stole the march,” I said smiling sharply.

  “What do you need, Admiral?” asked the old engineer, leaning forward.

  “I have a plan,” I said.

  The two members of my little pre-plan, planning cabal leaned forward.

  “How long would it take to revive every person on the prison freighter from cryo-stasis?” I asked, looking at the old engineer pointedly.

  Commander Spalding leaned back in his chair puffing out his cheeks. I ignored the way his red cybernetic eye seemed to gleam eerily in his head.

  “If she wasn’t doin’ nothing but staying put and thawin’ people out, I’d say ten hours with the proper man doing the load balancing,” the old Engineer paused, “o’ course, that doesn’t factor in the recovery time. It’ll take a couple days at least for the cold-sleep recovery process I think. Who knows if any of their heads is messed up from bein’ prisoners? A doctor would know better than me on that. I just fix the mechanical systems; I got nothing to do with the people side.”

  “A few days…” I trailed off irritably. I’d vaguely known about the people we had already thawed out that needed a few days to recover but it hadn’t been a priority in my mind. But I was aware that the first round had been thawed and they were returned to their home Fleets, but now…, “well it can’t be helped.”

  “If I may ask what the Admiral has planned, as I don’t see how we’ve got the room to thaw them all out. Between the Phoenix, the freighter, and all the rest of the Fleet, I don’t see how we could take on but half of them before life support would start giving up fits—to say nothing of the berthing space,” Spalding said.

  I made a noncommittal sound.

  “Wouldn’t want to do it for longer than a couple of weeks, and not the full load of them,” the Chief Engineer said probingly. “O’ course, we could farm them out to a few ships of this Grand Fleet of theirs. I’m sure between all the big Battleships they have they could take them on—”

  “The only Battleship they’ll be ‘farmed out to’ is one of ours,” I said sharply. A moment later I spotted a smirk—quickly covered by the old Engineer—and I realized I had just been successfully needled. I heaved a long-suffering sigh, “Yes, Chief. We’re going to be bringing the Power back into play for this one.”

  “I would never presume to steal your thunder, sir,” Spalding lied, as I was pretty sure the old Officer would do just about anything he thought was necessary, whether it trampled upon his superiors egos or not—which is just the way I’d have him. “But it’s nice to know we’ll be getting one of our own heavies to the party in time.”

  “That’s why the Warrant Officer is here with us, Chief,” I said, turning from Spalding to Lisa Steiner, “on our final transfer before Elysium we’re going to jump last and the freighter will not be joining us. I’ve selected a target system for that ship, it’s also one jump away from Elysium. I need to relay this information to the Commodore and see if he thinks he can rendezvous with the prison transport in time for the battle or not.”

  “Might be you’d want to leave a couple of escorts with her,” Spalding pointed out. “There’s no telling if—or when—a couple of droids might jump her if she’s floating out there all on her lonesome.”

  I pursed my lips. “Good point; I didn’t want to dilute our strength here anymore than absolutely necessary…but I think a couple of Cutters—maybe all the Cutters—would work ideally for this job, Spalding,” I agreed and then waved a hand irritably. “You know what? I think I’ll send Captain Archibald and his band of merry miscreants over along with them. This is the perfect job for a loose cannon like him. He can command the squadron from the bridge of the freighter, at least until Druid shows up.” I nodded more assertively, thinking, yes, this is why it’s important to have command meetings.

  By this point I knew I was no tactical god, like Alexander the Great or Dynominius the Conqueror. Unlike them, I needed all the help I could get if I was going to make my plans succeed.

  “How are we going to signal him, Admiral?” Steiner asked her face scrunched up with concern.

  “Him?” I asked, not following as my mind was lost in the reputed exploits of Dynominius and his Invasion Fleets back during the AI Wars.

  “Druid, sir,” Steiner replied. “Grand Admiral Manning has issued strict orders to all Comm. Officers that, once entering Elysium, we are to maintain strict communication’s silence except at prearranged times, and using an encryption package provided by the Flag. Unless you’re planning to ignore that and let them know we’re using the long-range array for FTL communications, of course.”

  I blew out my cheeks; the former com-tech had made several good points. Fortunately, I’d considered most of them already and had a plan. Well…not so much of a ‘plan’ as a notion, which was why the Chief Engineer was here.

  “No. We can’t risk exposing our access to a ComStat network to our allies, let alone the Droids. First, it’s not an advantage I’m ready to let slip just yet. Second, who knows how deeply the mechanicals have penetrated our allies’ systems?” I said, reminded of how our own systems had been compromised.

  I turned back to the only Engineer in the room in time to see him tapping away on a data slate. When he saw me looking at him, he colored on that part of his skin that was still natural and not synth-flesh.

  He mumbled something that sounded vaguely like an apology and hastily set the pad back down on the table, where it landed with a loud clatter which I igno
red. I had bigger fish to fry.

  “That’s where your expertise comes in, Commander,” I informed my most important Engineering Officer.

  “Sir?” Commander Spalding asked, looking confused.

  “Assuming we can get the sensor coverage for Elysium’s forge, do you think you could sneak the Parliamentary Power into the Jovian and hide her?” I asked.

  Spalding shook his head slowly, “I don’t see how. This is a Core System with multiple, overlapping sensors covering all the vital bits. Their scanners will be on continual the lookout for intruders. I’m just not seeing it, Admiral, sir.”

  “Well, that just shot my best idea out of the water,” I admitted.

  “Doesn’t mean you can’t tell her where to park, then send a smaller ship with a fast jump cycle off to tell the Power when it’s time to show up to the party,” offered Spalding. “A little extra push when Fleets come to grips never hurt.”

  “No, I want her at the Jovian,” I said, wondering if I was going to have to come clean with Admiral Manning—at least to the point of letting him know I had a Battleship on the way—or if I could manage to somehow keep that to myself and still have Druid in a position to do something decisive when he arrived. “I was thinking maybe we could use a jammer field to sneak her in, or something?”

  “We could set up a jammer system for her, but anyone sweeping the area would know something was there,” the engineer replied with finality.

  I shook my head in response to his negativity.

  “Everyone—including the droids—knows there’s a powerful set of fortifications there. They’re not going to be surprised at a jammer system popping up,” I pointed out, “I was just hoping there was some way to surprise them with the Parliamentary Power.”

  “I have a number of jammers down in the Locker, and could kludge together a few more than that besides…and we could leave them with the prison transport for the Commodore—but they’re no mythical cloaking device, sir,” replied Spalding contemplatively. “They do a job and do it well: no one can see what’s exactly behind it, so they’d have to use telescopes and mass sensors to get a fix on it, and even then it’s tricky business. But, on the other hand, it’s like hangin’ a big sign saying something important is hiding right, smack, here,” he jabbed his finger onto the tabletop emphatically.

  “I think I can work with that,” I said after a moment, my eyes narrowing craftily. I turned to the Warrant Officer, “pull up the channel for the FTL transmission. I’m ready to send my message.”

  After sending the message, I figured I was ready for the big meeting with my command staff and all the Captains of the MSP.

  “The next chance we get I want to sit down with my command staff, it’s time to plan the rest of our contingencies,” I gave the two of them a hard look, “but what we discussed in here stays in here. Just between the three of us, until and unless I say otherwise. Got it?”

  “Aye, sir,” the two of them coursed.

  “Loose lips sink Battleships, Admiral,” Spalding added, looking injured. “I won’t be out flapping my gums, you know that.”

  “I do,” I agreed.

  Spalding left shortly after that, and Steiner was at the door when I stopped her.

  “Send a recall order to Captain Middleton, with instructions to join us at Elysium,” I instructed, glad to know that his days as a loose cannon were about to come to an end. Total control of the ComStat network in the Spineward Sectors was about to take second seat to the war effort. It did me little good to consolidate control over a network that might shortly be behind enemy lines.

  She hesitated.

  “Problem?” I inquired, feeling a chilling premonition of unhappiness in my immediate future.

  “Not as such, sir. It’s just we had been receiving regular updates up until a week ago,” she explained. “At first I assumed this was because the Pride of Prometheus had traveled beyond the range of our currently coopted ComStat network, but then…”

  I felt my stomach tighten, but I kept my expression neutral as I said, “Let’s hear it, Steiner.”

  She shook her head uncertainly, “I’ve had time to study Mr. Fei’s work—the Pride of Prometheus’ new Comm. Officer,” she clarified, referring to the wunderkind Middleton had conscripted from the Asiatic world, “and I’m reluctant to admit that there’s no way I could match his program’s design, Admiral. In fact, his cracking algorithms are so powerful that I doubt even a military data bunker would hold out against them for long.”

  “Is there a point buried somewhere in this effusive praise?” I asked tightly, very much disliking the notion that one of Middleton’s people could run metaphorical circles around my own, hand-picked, expert.

  She straightened from the rebuke and nodded, “There is only a very small chance that the Pride of Prometheus, if on-task and unfettered, wouldn’t have been able to coopt another ComStat hub given this much elapsed time,” she said with conviction. “That would have allowed them to regain contact with us, which they haven’t done yet. I was going to wait another day just to be certain, sir,” she added unflinchingly, “since most of my calculations concluded that, given this much time, the odds of them having simply failed to locate another hub would have dropped into the 1-3% range.”

  I suppressed the urge to hit something with my suddenly-clenched fist, and forcibly relaxed arm as I shrugged in false indifference, “Then there are two possibilities: they are unable to respond, or they are unwilling to respond. For the time being, let’s assume the former,” I said, feeling my choler rise at the increasingly likely possibility that it was, in fact, the latter.

  “Yes, Admiral,” she acknowledged with a short nod. “I will inform you immediately—and discretely—when I receive the next update from the Pride of Prometheus,” she said professionally.

  “See that you do,” I said as lightly as I could manage, after which time she turned and left the conference room.

  Chapter 20: Final Preparations

  As luck would have it, we didn’t have a chance to assemble for a fully-fledged internal Multi-Sector Patrol Fleet pre-battle internal meeting until after we arrived in Elysium. Either the luck of the gods was against us or Grand Admiral, and Commandant, Manning was one paranoid blighter.

  “Now that we’re all here and finally have the chance to get together, I’d like to hear any and all thoughts for doing as much damage as possible to the droids. Especially since we can now see the star system that will be our battleground with our own eyes,” I said, sweeping the table with a look.

  “I understand they’re trying to put us on the extreme right,” Laurent presented this information as if it was new—which, of course, it wasn’t seeing as we’d known about it for weeks, but it still caused a rumble through the room.

  “They want us to screen the main formation from light marauders forces like the Harmony Destroyers we’ve encountered,” I said confidently, then I allowed my features to darken. “They are aware of the three different Droid Tribes at work here on the Rim and in their Sectors. I’ve tried to warn them, however they don’t want to believe the droids could make common cause and work together. Or, rather, they admit that it’s a possibility—just not a very strong one.”

  “What’s this, sir?” asked one of my Corvette Captains.

  “I’ve tried to press the point upon the Fleet Commander that, even though they’ve seen the Droids battling each other—quite viciously at times, and even allowing the local SDF forces to rally by sacrificing Droid Control over certain worlds if they’d only just settled their differences afterwards—that with all of humanity uniting, the natural response could be for them to do the same,” I pointed out. “And while he and his team have made contingencies, I don’t feel they go far enough. We, ourselves, are currently in negotiations with one of the Tribes—the weakest one—and are trying to get them to stay neutral in this conflict.”

  There was a mutinous rumbling at this, and I lifted a hand and gave my officers a hard look.

/>   “Negotiations initiated, I don’t hesitate to point out, by the droids and used from our side solely to get them to back off. Every droid we can keep from uniting into an enemy of the Grand Fleet is worth the risk. Now, that’s not to say that, if I see an advantage, I’m not going to seize it with both hands, but we didn’t have much of a choice on the front end,” I said, finishing nebulously.

  The Saint’s honest truth was that if I could trick, or bully, or deceive, or somehow convince the Droids of the United Sentients Assembly into doing things I desired, I was going to do it. Regardless of whatever the ‘Man not Machine’ fanatics would say about dealing with the enemy, the margins were too thin to let bigotry blind us to the possibilities.

  “That sounds like a lot of side talk about dealing with droids,” protested one of my Cutter Captains.

  I allowed my face to harden. “Let’s get one thing straight,” I said harshly, “the lives of those people out there—millions of citizens on dozens of worlds—come before anything else. If that means making deals that leave both us, and those citizens, free to go about our business then that’s exactly what I’m going to do. This isn’t some game where you can take the moral high ground and then go home when things blow up in your face. If the droids want to talk instead of fight, and I’m heavily outnumbered, then by Saint Murphy’s wretched wrench that’s exactly what I’m going to do!’

  Unhappy faces met mine but the urge to outright rebellion sputtered and failed in the face of my steely gaze.

  “Yes, sir,” the rebel Captain muttered under the weight of my continued stare.

  “Now then,” I said forcefully, “with that out of the way, let’s try to stay on task and mission focused. We’ve got a small part of a big fleet, and an even bigger enemy, to worry about. How are we going to deal with our foes during the upcoming battle, with the understanding that whatever we do will have to be done ourselves? The Fleet and Sub-Commanders won’t listen to me—Admirals without battleships need not apply and all that. Options, people?”