The crew of the bridge exchanged looks.
“Well it looks like this is one Captain that won’t get to play hooky today,” he frowned and then brightened, “but of course after we get everything squared away a short ‘inspection tour’ wouldn’t be out of line. After all,” he said sounding as if he were trying to convince himself as much as he was everyone around him, “this ship has only recently been rebuilt! Can’t be too careful. No, sirree, bob! The fleet’s top engineering resource has to do his duty down in Engineering even if he doesn’t want to,” he finished piously.
“What does that rebellious Montagne think he’s doing over there at Central?” sneered King James from atop his throne.
“Clearly his time on the Rim has given the Grand Admiral an over-inflated sense of his self-worth,” the Prime Minister remarked smoothly.
“Never mention the title 'Grand Admiral' in my hearing again!” screamed the King as he pounded on the arm of his throne. “Or you’ll be relegated back to the Bunker for the duration of my reign. So long as the rank of Grand Admiral is worn by that rebel scum, the Star System of Capria will refuse to recognize it. Inform our Royal Ambassador, the Marque de Farqua, to that effect at once!”
“It will be done immediately,” the Prime Minister said, bowing low, so low in fact that his perfectly-done hair almost scraped the floor.
“Who does he think he is?” demanded King James.
All around him courtiers, politicians and even uniformed military leaders exchanged uneasy looks but none of them seemed to have the courage to speak up.
“He probably thinks he’s the head of the Confederation Military, my liege,” the Royal Marine Commandant said steeling himself and stepping forward, “and from all signs he’d be right to do so.”
The King bestowed a withering glare upon the Marine General.
“For as long as the Monarchy rules Capria, this Star System will never give in to tyranny,” he declaimed, standing up from his thrown, grabbing his scepter and holding it high for royal emphasis before looking back at the Marine and continuing in a normal voice. “And if I wasn’t absolutely sure of both the Marine’s traditional neutrality and your personal loyalty to our home world, I would find you a new job, General Villimouse.”
The Marine Commandant gave a minute shake of his head. “Still, everything seems simple enough to me, your Majesty,” said the Marine.
“How is anything my never-to-be-blasted-enough-cousin and his-never-to-be-cursed-enough-wife, does simple, General?” the King asked sharply.
“It’s true that we may not be able to do much about his Sector and Regional ambition, my King. That is the realm of our ambassadors and yourself, not the Marine Corps,” the Marine admitted before his gaze sharpened like a hunter sighting prey, “however, by declaring Harpoon’s independence from Caprian Rule and making a point of notifying us through the new High Assembly, Prince Jason Montagne has gone a step too far!”
“What would you suggest, General?” the King asked eyeing the Marine closely. “And do not disappoint me. I freely admit I am not at my most…‘understanding’ when it comes to my royal Cousin!”
“As long as planetary body Harpoon stands in a state of rebellion it threatens not just the integrity of our star system but our way of life,” the General said grimly. “He wants to test us; I believe we have the perfect answer to his provocations.”
“A bit hyperbolic for a Marine, don’t you think, General?” the Prime Minister asked snidely. “Leave the outrage to the politicians. Harpoon is a side issue and the new head of the Confederation Fleet may soon be dead and all of our hopes for a free Sector 25 with him.”
King James' face darkened.
“Mind to your free and fair elections and let your Monarch decide what is hyperbole and what is a threat to Capria,” he instructed. General,” he asked after shaking his head to clear it and turning to the Marine, “what is your proposal?”
The Marine smiled—a hard edged ruthless expression.
“Since Admiral Montagne has made it a point to stake his claim to a part of the Caprian Star System for himself I think it only proper that the Kingdom gives him an appropriate response. Send a squadron of warships to Harpoon my liege, along with a top notch mining team and four companies of marine sappers and I’ll shatter Harpoon into its constituent parts for you,” the Marine said with certainty, “the remains can be dragged to the molecular furnaces in the defense fleet’s orbital shipyards and turned into the raw materials used to fit out King James Justice, Capria’s soon to be newest and most powerful Battleship.”
King James lifted a finger and then dropped it back down again. He stared at the Marine Commandant.
“I like the way you think, General,” said the King, “make it happen.” He turned to his High Chancellor, “provide the Royal Seal to the General. I want to make a statement to the whole world and the rest of the Sector: we of Capria will not tolerate any interference in its internal affairs!”
The various ministers, advisers and generals once again shared looks before nodding and the Chancellor ran off to procure the royal seal.
“Cousin Jason may think he can dictate to Capria now that he’s a high and mighty Confederation official but he will find that he’s dead wrong,” the King said harshly, “destroy Harpoon for me, General, and you will be rewarded.”
While the Marine Commandant was busy coordinating the formation of the Harpoon Destruction Squadron, the powerful system-wide sensor system based in the Caprian planetary orbitals with links to independent sensor arrays and listening posts throughout the star system started going crazy.
“What seems to be going on in here? And somebody shut down that alarm,” snapped Lieutenant Commander Morrison-Pierre of the Caprian SDF as he stomped into the room still adjusting his uniform and tucking in his blouse. “And if this is another one of your false alarms, Anastasia, you’re not going to like the performance review I put in your file. This is the third 0’dark thirty emergency in as many months—and every time is when you’re on watch!”
The Senior Sensor Watch Lieutenant colored and drew herself up. “I resent the implication, LC. Last time we had a valid sensor ghost on our screens and protocol states the duty officer is to report any anomalous sensor readings cruiser size or larger within the inner system, how was I supposed to know we had a hardware issue?” she said stiffly. “And as for the time Chief Bullhorn leaned on his console and accidentally activated the intercom in your room, I’ve already apologized and taken full responsibility.”
“Leaned on the console? He had a ham sandwich on the communications panel and coffee mug sitting on the override!” he exclaimed and then looked at her sternly. “Report on our current emergency, Senior Lieutenant.”
“It looks like another hardware issue, Sir,” Lieutenant Anistasia reported looking mad at her console and her life in general. “We’ve got a massive gravitational disturbance well inside the outer system and far away from anything other than a couple of oversized asteroids. Nothing nearly large enough to explain the grav-readings we’re picking up.”
“Why is the sensor system registering a hyper drive foot print larger than that of a max diameter Colonizer inside my hyper limit, Lieutenant?” demanded Lieutenant Commander Morrison-Pierre.
“Your hyper limit, Sir?” Anastasia asked mockingly and then continued more officially. “Anyway, it’s only an 80% match on the hyper-footprint scale, forgetting that its inside the star system but on the other hand there’s no testing ships and nothing out there with a big enough mass to cause these kinds of reading from an internal event of some kind.”
“So it’s looking like another hardware issue. Sweet Murphy, how many more of these sorts of issues are we going to have before maintenance finally gets its act together and switches out its old—” Morrison-Pierre grumbled.
Another alarm went off on the main console bringing him to an abrupt halt.
Senior Lieutenant Anistasia immediately tensed. “I’m getting independent c
onfirmation from remote sensor buoy’s 68 and 72, LC. This is not a hardware failure,” she said with alarm.
“Coms notify the ready response squadron and the border patrol immediate,” barked Morrison-Pierre.
“On it, Sir,” the com-operator said sharply.
“And then somebody get Admiral Willard’s office on the phone. I need to know if we’ve got some sort of special research or black ops project out there and I need to know it NOW!” he ordered.
“New readings!” reported Senior Lieutenant Anistasia, “erroneous hyper-spike has subsided. I’m now reading a small task force comprised of multiple ships based around an 1800 meter long ship of some kind.”
The Lieutenant Commander immediately paled.
“Forget his office. I want Admiral Willard himself on the horn now! There’s only one ship in the Spine that size that’s also rumored to be able make a point transfer inside a hyper limit like that,” he said urgently.
“Who is it and why wasn’t I notified before this? Blast it all sir I’m your second in command!” the Senior Lieutenant asked with great concern.
“Either that’s one oversized Imperial Command Carrier or we’ve just been visited by the new Lucky Clover; in which case we might have just been invaded. If this is a prelude to an invasion, then Prince Jason and the Multi-Sector Patrol Fleet are here for the crown...and the space gods help us all,” he said.
“The Tyrant of Cold Space?” Anastasia immediately paled.
“The outer system! Now that’s what I call traveling though hyperspace!” the Navigator said, excitedly almost as if he couldn’t believe what had just happened.
Several members of the navigation team exchanged high fives while the remainder of the bridge crew released pent up breaths and long held sighs of relief.
“Any point transfer you can walk away from is a good one,” the XO said stoically.
“Pish-posh! Why you’d think this group was made up of nothing but greenhorns and the fainthearted. I should just wash my hands of the whole lot of you,” Spalding snorted with amusement tinged disgust.
“That seems a little harsh. This is only the second time this ship has used the new drive system and she’s been significantly rebuilt since then,” said the XO.
“We’re still using the same spindles as we were the last time, nothing about them’s changed. As for the changes to the Clover…what changes? All we did was follow the build plan and complete her!” Spalding said sounding ornery and looking for a fight, “surely every man jack of you would prefer the finest, most powerful ship in the fleet, if not the entire galaxy leave Gambit fully functional and ready for service!”
“No! No one’s saying that, Sir,” the XO said quickly, “I think we’re all just so excited to have arrived in this system safe and sound, as well as for the…big surprise we’re about to give to Capria and the SDF. This may be a new crew and many of us new to the service, but I doubt any of us are faint of heart,” he finished with an edge in his voice
Spalding eyed the other man and then gave a fractional nod of his head before looking out at the crew and slapping his knee.
“Ha!” Spalding chortled. “I think you’re right, Mr. First Officer,” he said, ignoring the way the other man’s face darkened, “only the bravest lads and lasses would sign up for a run up against one of the most powerful self defense fleet’s in the sector in an untested ship! Even if it perpetrated one of the most moving engineering feats humanity has ever seen!” he finished enthusiastically.
“Not exactly how I would put it. But I think that works,” said the First Officer.
“Not how I’d put it at all,” one of the Ensigns at the science console whispered to another at coms.
“Kee-hem!” the First Officer cleared his throat loudly and glared at the offending junior officers.
Spalding jumped out of his chair with a metallic clang and a loud thump.
“Enough of that wool gathering! It’s full speed ahead, Ms. Helmswoman; don’t spare the plasma drive! I want maximum cycle rate until we get in close,” ordered the old engineer.
“Aye, aye, Commander,” said the Helm.
“Sensors get with Navigation and plot us a least time course and get us there pronto,” he said.
“On it, Sir,” said the respective offiers.
“Anything you want me to do, Commander?” asked the XO pointedly.
“Just make sure we lasso those Spindles and get us to Planetary Body Harpoon as soon as possible, XO,” Spalding instructed him.
“On it, Commander,” said the XO.
“Alright then,” Spalding said with satisfaction and started wandering toward the blast doors, “if anyone needs me I’ll just be down in Engineering checking on the hyper rail…” he seemed to catch himself and broke out into a coughing fit, “I mean 'plasma drive'.”
After saying this his speed toward the doors increased until he was all but hopping and whistling.
The Executive Officer cleared his throat.
“Are you sure your time would be best spent in engineering, Sir?” he asked pointedly causing the old engineer to pause mid-stride.
“Absolutely,” Spalding said with complete conviction and then turned right back toward the blast door.
“What I meant was, we’ve got a completely new bridge crew up here, ‘Captain,’ and I think they would benefit immensely from your years of experience, much more so than, say, the highly trained, highly experienced crew you’ve assembled for the Engineering Department…sir,” he said levelly.
Spalding’s shoulders slumped. “You know what? You’re probably right,” he sounded unsettled and ill at ease, “we’ve got a lot of greenhorns up here. Who decided to set things up like that anyway? Someone wasn’t on the ball. It’s as good a team as any I’ve seen but you’re right that they need a steady hand on the rudder,” he complained.
The Executive Officer looked at him in disbelief.
“You personally picked everyone on both the Bridge and Engineering teams, Commander Spalding,” he said.
Spalding blinked at him like he’d just said something stupid.
“Well of course I selected them. This is a handpicked crew,” he declared, “I’ve always said go with seasoned hands and those fresh out of training that haven’t had to spend any time to stew in the barrel with a bunch of slackers and malcontents,” he continued with righteous conviction, “there’s a saying about rotten apples and picking them straight off the tree, only in this case there were no bad apples only good, better and best! And this crew is the best…only the best for the Lucky Clover….” he continued, seeming to lose his train of thought as he started ruminating.
“As fascinating as all this talk of apples and barrels has been, Sir. We have a large number of contacts from both the inner and outer system giving us high intensity sensor scans and setting intercept courses. So if we could focus on space combat, Sir?” asked the XO.
Spalding waved him off as he returned to the Captain’s seat.
“I have every confidence in your skills, and the Clover’s overpowering weaponry, to see us through to the end. If by some horrendous Demon Cursed event outside of any rhyme or reason slows down our engineering teams. After all isn’t that why they appointed you to be my First Officer?” he asked pointedly. “After all, you can say that I handpicked everybody on this bridge but I don’t seem to recall picking you!”
“Again, perhaps this is a discussion for another time,” said the XO pointing toward the screen.
“Handed to me, appointed, even foisted off on an old man like he couldn’t spot a good officer when he saw one. Not that I’m saying you aren’t half bad…for a career bridge officer,” Spalding continued.
The XO winced. “Captain,” he started.
“That’s not to say you don’t have your rough spots,” the old engineer said with relish, “for example.”
“Captain!” the XO all but shouted over the top of him.
Spalding blinked in surprise. “I was just going to say
that you’d never served on a Super Battleship or anything of comparable size before,” he said innocently.
“No one in the MSP has served on a ship this size,” the XO said with forced patience, “and furthermore the only reason you’re stuck up here on the bridge is because you were so picky over who would take command of this Super Battleship that they simply gave up and left you in charge.”
“The Clover deserves nothing but the best. Besides I am not picky!” Spalding spoke impatiently. “I had at least three officers I considered highly qualified for the post. Although I’m sure there were other qualified officers out there, the candidates they sent me were underwhelming at best,” he said, wagging a finger at his First Officer.
“Yes, the Admiral, Captain Laurent who’d been the Captain of the old Lucky Clover before she was repurposed for this ship, and highly reluctantly you added the current Flag Captain of the fleet—but only after personnel literally demanded another name!” shouted the XO.
“I owed the head of personnel a personal favor so I had to give him another name,” Spalding said defensively. “Besides, Captain Hammer is pretty much qualified! I can’t help it if all the good captains were already taken,” he finished.
“What I find amazing is that they didn’t just assign a new captain,” the old engineer’s eyes narrowed dangerously and the XO swiftly changed tacks, “I mean since your heart’s clearly set on engineering, Sir,” he finished lamely.
“Hmph!” Spalding snorted disdainfully and then fell silent, “Well it’s not like I’ll be stuck with this job for too much longer. The Admiral will transfer in and take command as soon as we finish putting the Clover through her re-build trials.”
“I doubt he’ll take personal command of this ship, Commander,” his XO warned.
Admiral's Nemesis Part II Page 25
