Admiral's Revenge (A Spineward Sectors Novel:)

by Luke Sky Wachter

  “What are your intentions, Admiral?” Laurent asked, giving me pause in my march to my intended destination: the Captain’s ready room. Unlike the Lucky Clover, the Armor Prince didn’t have a Flag Bridge and a Battle Bridge. It had a bridge, and an auxiliary control room. “You realize they’ll know we’re here and see us coming.”

  “I’m going to do the Right Thing,” I said irritably. “I’m going to go save my wife and make sure the Lady Akantha doesn’t get herself killed by Jean Luc and his battleships, or the Bug Queen and her Mother-ship,” I said irritably. Our drives were already burning and the die was already cast. What had been was no more; now we had to deal with the world as it was, not what we wanted it be, and certainly not the grand battle plan of five minutes earlier.

  “Even if it means costing us the battle?” he asked in a low voice.

  I turned to stare at him with silent fury. That’s the moment that I realized that as much as I lusted for vengeance upon my backstabbing uncle by the bucket load, it would be as next to meaningless if the only way to get it was to lose my wife.

  Laurent raised his hands in the air. “Look, I’m your Flag Captain,” he said taking a step back, “it’s my job to ask the tough, unwanted questions. It doesn’t mean that I agree with them.”

  “Our hyper drives were kept spun up, below the critical threshold,” I said in a calm voice, instead of strangling the Captain where he stood like was my first impulse. “Have the Navigator plot us a short jump to the nearest point we can get for a least-time course to rendezvous with Akantha and the Strike Cruiser. Also, have Communications let the,” my mouth twisted as I realized or the first time that Akantha had changed the name of the Invictus Rising into its new, strangely mythological moniker, “Furious Phoenix know that we are on the way and will rendezvousing with them directly—this is so they aren’t trying to shoot at us on the way in. Hopefully we can keep her from getting herself killed before we can arrive.”

  “You’re the Admiral,” Laurent said with a nod.

  “What the Hades is that supposed to mean?!” I snapped, tired and fed up with all this ‘you’re the Admiral’ nonsense people liked to flip at me whenever they didn’t agree.

  “It means the orders will be carried out,” Laurent said evenly, “and we will get the Prince where he needs to go. You can count on us—not everyone’s out to get you, Sir.”

  I took a deep breath, wondering if I’d overreacted. I had grown used to constant challenges to my authority, vis-à-vis Rafael Tremblay, from within as well as tries against my interests from without that it was possible I’d started looking for trouble that didn’t really exist.

  “Alright then,” I grumped, “if you need me, I’ll be in the ready room, trying to take a look at the new field of battle and getting something inside me to fill the empty spots.” Possibly even stretch out on the couch with my eyes closed for a little rest—note I didn’t say ‘sleep,’ as that would have been impossible.

  The odds had just ticked up significantly in our favor with the arrival of Akantha and a certain former Imperial Strike Cruiser, and I needed time to think.

  We were still significantly shorter on lighter units than Jean Luc Montagne, but while we were still overmatched two battleships to one battleship and a strike cruiser, I knew just how potent and powerful that Strike Cruiser was, courtesy of the first battle for Easy Haven against Captain Cornwallis. The Furious Phoenix wasn’t in the same league as a Battleship, but it could sure give a Dreadnaught class a run for her money.

  It was time to give old Jean Luc and that Bug Mother-ship a run for their money. The Battle for Tracto had just turned into a three-way horse race—and I aimed to cheat.

  Chapter 58: Fleet Maneuvers

  “Point Emergence,” hollered Navigator Shepherd.

  “Extending baffling and activating the drives,” DuPont at the Helm informed us, not wasting time asking for orders or verification, instead just getting the job done.

  I was grateful, as this was a wartime situation and lives were on the line—lives that were very important to me.

  “Shields at maximum and holding steady,” Ensign Longbottom reported eagerly.

  “Initiating main engine burn,” DuPont reported, and the ship shuddered as if slamming against a wall before plowing on through. “And we’re free,” he reported, “there was hardly any inertial sump to speak of with an inter-system jump like that.”

  “Full power to the engines, Helm,” I said, bypassing Laurent and issuing the orders. I didn’t have time for the niceties. “I want to intercept that Strike Cruiser before she engages the Bugs or the Battleships.”

  “Full speed, Admiral,” DuPont replied, “if it can be done, we’ll catch her,” he said, not bothering to mention what all of us knew: if the much faster Imperial Strike Cruiser didn’t want us to catch her, our better angle for intercepting the main furball that was the current two-way battle between the Bugs and my Uncle would mean squat.

  “Just do your best, DuPont,” I said firmly, “I trust you to do your job and can recognize the impossible when it stares me in the face and yawns.”

  “Aye, aye, Sir,” DuPont said with a bit of a chuckle.

  Looking up at the main-screen, I saw that the wave of Scouts had been mostly dealt with, leaving cold space strewn with the dead and drifting pirate ships and corpses of Bug Scouts.

  The second—or I suppose it was the third—wave was comprised mainly of Harvesters and only a couple Scout Marauders had already been released and was less than fifteen minutes away from intercepting my Pirate Uncle’s fractured fleet.

  “I hope they eat you,” I snarled as I watched, my eyes switching back and forth between the icons of the Lucky Clover and Vineyard as I wondered on which ship Jean Luc had parked himself.

  “Even as close to the outer part of this star system and the hyper limit as the Pirates have decided to engage them, neither the Armor Prince nor the Phoenix will be able to engage the Harvester group before they reach the pirates,” Laurent advised after running the numbers on his data slate.

  “Not that I would ever want to do such a thing,” I said glibly. Silently, I was scoffing at the notion of putting myself between Jean Luc and harm’s way. The mere idea was preposterous.

  “Yes,” agreed Laurent his face scrunching slightly, “so unless the Bugs turn on us, we should be good.”

  “A disturbing thought,” I said with a hungry grin that belied the words, “we wouldn’t want those poor, helpless Bugs to come under our recently refurbished and upgraded Armor Prince.”

  “We’ve seen firsthand what the Bugs can do to similarly outfitted Heavy Cruiser,” Laurent said disapprovingly.

  “From your own mouth, Captain, that was a Heavy Cruiser and this is a Battleship,” I said with a dismissive tone. When it was clear that this wasn’t selling my unconcern hard enough, I looked over at the Captain irritably, “A Dreadnaught Class Battleship,” I reiterated emphatically, “upgraded by our very own Chief Engineer. We’ve got twice the turbo-lasers and more than that in heavy lasers. I have every confidence we’ll pulverize any Harvesters foolish enough to come within range.”

  “A Battleship is no Heavy Cruiser,” Laurent temporized unhappily.

  I sniffed in response but didn’t say anything. Several minutes passed and I looked over at the com-tech. “Any response from the Furious Phoenix?” I asked, wondering what was taking them so long.

  “Not yet, Admiral,” the com-tech said with a sad shake of his head, “it could be that we just haven’t had a return signal yet. We did just jump and effectively outrun our last message.”

  “Well, keep trying,” I grumbled. What was Akantha playing at, running radio silent like this?

  Chapter 59: On the Hunt

  “We’re getting another message from the Armor Prince, my Hold Mistress,” said Isis from her position at the communications console.

  “Has my Protector deigned to address us himself this time?” Akantha asked icily.

  “It�
�s another status update and instructions for the Invictus Rising to proceed to a set of rendezvous coordinates short of the Bug Fleet and the Star Bandits we’ve found in our Home Space, Mistress,” Isis said without emotion.

  “An insult,” Akantha declared, “we are back together again for the first time in months, and the man does not even address me personally…he has his underlings send messages, and now what does he do?” she demanded in a rising voice, one hard enough to cut glass with. “When we fail to jump to the orders of his lackey—a person whose voice I don’t even recognize—

  Realizing her voice had risen to a screech, she cut herself off and then continued in a colder firmer voice, “No, you are to remain silent. He attempts to chide me with his seeming forgetfulness of this honorable ship’s battle-tested new name and deny us the honor of the first strike against the invaders, and I will not have it!”

  “Yes, Hold Mistress,” Isis said with a sharp nod.

  “I’m sure the Little Admiral’s only excited to see you again, my Lady” Gants said, manfully throwing himself into the fray, “maybe he just wants to have our ships in close proximity for Communication Security?”

  “Now we must skulk around, exchanging words in impersonal whispers passed through subordinates?” Akantha said with patented disbelief and rising anger. She bared her teeth but restrained herself from upbraiding the eager young Starborn like he probably deserved. Gants had proven his stalwart service to his Warlord and the Hold by helping plan the attack of his own home world, so she would give him the benefit of the doubt—even when she felt none herself. “Every moment the Bug Demons and these pirates inhabit Tracto space is an insult that cannot, and will not, be borne for a second longer than absolutely necessary. You loyalty to your Warlord Admiral is well presented and well placed—however,” her voice hardened, “my orders stand. Is this going to be a loyalty conflict for you?”

  “Yes, Lady Akantha,” Gants said unhappily, “I mean no, Lady Akantha. I mean, I’ll carry out your orders, my Lady.”

  “Good,” she said with real pleasure. “So long as you are certain. This would have been a less than ideal time to lose my First Officer.”

  Gants just looked at her despairingly.

  “You are much more loyal than our last First Officer,” she hastened to assure him, “it would be difficult to do without you.”

  “I’m just an Armory Head; I don’t know as much as you think I do about running a ship,” Gants protested.

  “Nonsense,” Akantha said sternly, suppressing the urge to smile, “you have done a wonderful job.”

  “Are you sure that we shouldn’t contact the Admiral?” Gants hazarded again.

  Akantha’s face hardened. “This insult will not be borne,” she declared. “Besides, he would merely try to hold us back. A blow must be struck!”

  Gants placed a hand over his face, which she pointedly ignored.

  “Relay the order,” Akantha said standing up and pulling out her sword, “we shall increase our speed to ‘full speed ahead.’ Straight at our enemies, Furious Phoenix! We shall drive our weapons straight down their throats!”

  Chapter 60: The Supplicant Seeks a Boon

  “We’re getting hammered, Sir,” Captain Heppner reported, his face popping up on the arm-screen of the Admiral’s Command Chair.

  “Blast it, Jim,” Jean Luc cursed, “I’ve got this battle well in hand.”

  “Half our fleet is gone and of the remainder, just under half of them are running for the hyper limit as we speak,” Captain Jim Heppner argued.

  “I’ll deal with the cowards later,” the Pirate King said with a savage grin, “they will make a fine example for the new dynasty I plan to found in this system when I hunt them down and the holo-vid of their torture goes viral.”

  “Respectfully, we’re getting hammered and the Mother-ship hasn’t even entered the battle yet, Commodore!” the Captain said urgently. “Sir, we have to withdraw. We have Bugs to our front and the scrapings your nephew has pulled out of his hat to the rear; our position is rapidly becoming untenable.”

  “No!” Jean Luc snapped with a sudden surge of rage, “my nephew means to taunt me—he tasks me, but I’ll have him brought to his knees yet!”

  “We must, Commodore,” Heppner said all but pleading, “both battleships have taken hull damage and our shields are spotting hard; those Heavy Harvesters are tough to deal with. Sir, we can always return to this system later.”

  “Bugs always follow a pattern of increasingly larger attacks…this was a deliberate ambush,” Jean Luc said in a deathly voice. “The naval buffoon masquerading as my nephew thinks he can get these sub-sentient creatures to do his heavy lifting and come along behind to sweep up the pieces, but the fool doesn’t even have control over his own forces, let alone these Bugs!”

  “I don’t see how this impacts our situation, Sir,” Heppner said respectfully and Jean Luc bared his teeth.

  “Your new orders are to maintain our distance from that Mother-ship and as much of her Armada as you can. Fight this ship, Heppner,” Jean Luc declared.

  “What will you be doing, Sir?” Heppner asked pointedly, his gaze sharpening.

  “I will not surrender the trillium operation in this system for the Bugs to devour. I have plans for the wealth of this place and will not accept a setback of years in order to rebuild everything they will destroy in a matter of weeks!” Jean Luc shook his head in savage negation, “I will not give in to the ‘Little Pipsqueak’ and this gimmick he’s trying to masquerade as a real battle strategy. No—we hold,” Jean Luc said flatly.

  The one-eyed Pirate Lord leaned menacingly toward the small screen’s pickup as he continued, “You deal with the Harvesters and smaller fry, and keep distance as best you can in order to rebuild our shields for the arrival of my nephew. A run-down and parted out Battleship and a Cruiser of some kind, run by neophytes like them cannot stand against battle-hardened professionals.”

  “Staying out of range still leaves us dealing with the Mother-ship at some point, unless we mean to let it ravage Tracto IV,” Heppner said.

  “You leave the Mother-ship to me and fight the ship until I get back; I need to retrieve something from…my Quarters,” Jean Luc said with a grin, and it was far from a pleasant expression.

  Heppner looked slightly skeptical before seeming to reach some kind of internal decision and nodding decisively.

  Severing the connection on his Admiral’s Throne, Jean Luc stood up. “Transfer full command authority over to the bridge crew,” he ordered, heading for his ready room.

  His Chief of Staff started to follow, and Jean Luc wheeled around to glare at Tremblay. “Make sure I’m not disturbed,” he ordered, before heading inside and priority locking the door.

  Sitting down in his command chair, he popped out the lever cleverly concealed within the desk.

  Seconds later, the Pirate King was hurtling through his Battleship at the speed of a turbo-lift in nothing but the ready room chair, which was normally situated behind the Admiral’s desk.

  Arriving down on deck twelve and a half, with the ship shuddering and shaking around him occasionally as proof of his wisdom in handing full command of the ship and battle over to Heppner, Jean Luc hurried through the dark, foam-covered, low ceilinged secret deck.

  Pausing outside a faintly glowing room, the Montagne Prince paused to gather himself before striding forth boldly to enter the room with the Core Fragment. He blinked in surprise when he saw what looked to be another Core Fragment forming around the black, metallic sword he had taken off that foolish putz of a spoiled nephew.

  “Impossible,” he muttered, raising an eyebrow before shrugging off his refusal of that which sat before his eyes. He was now doubly glad that he had decided to let the Core Fragment and its deadly powers rest, and not attempt to retrieve the black sword which was, itself, a far cry from his old blade.

  For a second, he hesitated as what should have been an easy decision was complicated by the fact that there wa
s no longer only one Fragment to petition.

  With a barely audible growl, he shook off his indecision and planted himself in front of the original AI Fragment. “I beg a boon from the Massively Multi-Parallel Entropic Network,” he said, dropping to his knees. It irked him no end to put himself in a subordinate looking position like this, but the protocols were clear and to defeat his current enemies he considered the temporary discomfort to be well worth the price.

  There was what felt like a long, deliberate pause before a straight line appeared on the plasma screen hanging from the ceiling.

  “Proceed,” said the digital sounding voice, the straight line on the screen moving up and down with the Fragment’s words.

  “I know that the AI’s created, and can control, the sub-sentient creatures known as the Bugs,” Jean Luc began, staring up at the screen. “This ship is beset by the creatures and I require your help to secure the safety of all those onboard her.” He was deliberately playing to whatever sense of self-preservation resided in the broken remnants of an AI so powerful that man had once considered it a Data-God.

  “An inaccurate statement, but currently irrelevant; clarify your request,” the digital voice said in an emotionless voice.

  Jean Luc suppressed a curse and throttled the urge to become irritated with the Fragment—that path lead to a swift death.

  “I request access to any codes, ciphers, commands or control frequencies necessary to take control of or destroy the Bugs, or more specifically, their Mother-ship,” Jean Luc said in a tight voice. “Although I’m more than willing to destroy any of their smaller ships as well, if it pleases.”

  There was a brief pause and a humming sound started in the background, which cut off abruptly.

  “Extend your data slate and place it on the top of the crystalline structure directly in front of you,” instructed the voice.

  Pulling out his slate, the Pirate King bared his teeth and stepped forward, careful not to touch any part of the Core Fragment with his bare skin as he placed the device atop the Fragment.