Admiral's Gambit (A Spineward Sectors Novel:)

by Luke Sky Wachter

  Before I left his office, the recently minted Commodore got to his feet and drew himself up to attention prior to snapping a salute, one that was so crisp and professional I didn’t even attempt to emulate, choosing instead to settle on what I hoped was a regal nod in return to cover my embarrassment at this treatment. As if I were a real Admiral deserving of respect and not some paper tiger who had lucked into the driver's seat of a Battleship.

  After the salute, LeGodat came around the desk and offered me his hand. Much more comfortable with this sort of social interaction, I was more than happy to press the flesh with the man I’d made a Commodore during the heat of battle.

  “Sorry if I’m out of line here, Sir,” he said sounding anything but sorry, and my mental defenses immediately went up. The genuine looking smile he followed that little statement up with did nothing to lower them.

  “Go on, Colin,” I said, trying to come across as slightly distant, yet at the same time open to a bit of personal camaraderie, “you can be open and honest with me regarding any issues or concerns you have,” I was trying to keep the coolness I wanted to interject out of my words. Everything had been going to so well, or at least it seemed like it to this point, so on the one hand I didn’t want to risk messing it up with further conversation of a touchy type. On the other hand, if there was a fly in the ointment or a monkey in Saint Murphy’s wretched wrench, then it was best I find out sooner than later.

  “Oh, it's not anything as bad as all that,” he said his smile widening a fraction.

  “All right,” I said agreeably.

  “I just wanted to say that on behalf of my men, both officer and enlisted, all of us here in Easy Haven are ready and eager to join the fleet and crew of the infamous Little Admiral himself,” LeGodat said, his smile turning wry, however despite the look on his face, he still almost sounded half proud, as if he didn’t want to but couldn’t help being a little bit happy at this announcement.

  Which was why when the breath whooshed out of me at the sudden and unexpected turn in this conversation, instead of turning red and shouting with sheer frustration at the use of the nickname I hated with a passion and felt was entirely and utterly demeaning in every way possible, I forced a smile and a nod instead and gave his hand an extra hard squeeze before releasing it.

  “We’re more than happy to have you and your men onboard. When time allows, I’ll make it a point to officially welcome your officers and crew into the MSP,” I said, falling back on every ounce of Royal training to put a smoothness into my voice that I simply wasn’t feeling right now.

  I know it was a pet peeve and I should be entirely beyond such minor irritations, but when I first started to accept the idea that I was going to have to pretend to be an actual admiral, one of the very few things I wanted for myself, other than to avoid the hangman’s noose, was to quash that ‘Little Admiral’ moniker once and for all.

  Now I was forced to not only accept it, but because of the apparent goodwill behind the use of a handle I utterly and totally despised, I might be forced to embrace it as part of my still-forming identity, the mere thought of which made me want to gag. Among the many things Janeski was going to pay for eventually, on a laundry list of items stretching across this entire sector of space and beyond, somewhere down near the bottom of that list I was going to make sure to include the use of that name.

  “I’ll let them know, Sir,” LeGodat said with a nod, “I’m not sure you realize just how much it helps the men to know they are part of something bigger than a run-down old Star Base still half in mothballs and surrounded by enemies. To remember that they are still part of, or in some cases for the first time, members of a real Confederation Fleet does wonders for morale,” he finished.

  I felt like the biggest fraud in the entire sector, and that’s saying something with the way Yagar was running around puffing himself up right now, not to mention how Janeski had pulled the wool over so many eyes, including my own. At least they were officers in a real military force, be it a System Defense Force like Yagar, or the Imperial Fleet for Janeski. What was I? Nothing but a glorified college student with a martyr complex and a pretty hot wife.

  “The Multi-Sector Patrol Fleet may have suffered a few blows during the recent troubles,” I said confidently, “but you can assure your men that we are back on our feet now and expanding at a rapid rate,” I finished, fudging the reality of things in favor of a ringing statement that might inspire others.

  “Thank you, Sir. I’ll let them know,” he said, sounding if anything slightly relieved to put that almost personal moment behind us in favor of a return to military formality.

  “No, thank you, System Commander,” I finished.

  Escorting us back to the lift, my Lancers and I made our goodbyes and, after a final glance at the quite empty Star Base control room and it numerous consoles, we parted company.

  The whole ride down the lift I had to wonder how I’d managed to fool a professional fleet officer like LeGodat into thinking I was in any way worthy of receiving his respect. I’d certainly never earned it. As far as I could see, all I’d done was show up, picked a fight and then promptly run off again as soon as possible. Here I showed up again, and other than a big knock-down, drag-out fight, what had I done? Declared my and his independence from the only organization in the entire Sector with even the vestige of legal authority? Yeah, this ‘Little Admiral’ that his men looked up to was really nothing more than a legendary troublemaker as far as I could see.

  I continued to shake my head the whole way down the lift system.

  Chapter 53: An Impassioned Plea

  “So this is it,” I said, making one last impassioned plea over the ship’s intercom system, “Capria, in her wisdom, has had a change of Government and that government has sent out reinforcements to replace you, my loyal crew. Men and women I know and trust,” I paused, gathering myself.

  "They’ve sent these men, or so they say, so that you can get some much-needed down time,” I said skeptically, then added firmly, “the one thing they’re right about is that each and every one of you needs and deserves a break. 'Shore leave,' I believe they call it,” I said with a chuckle, “in fact, only a slave driver or the most desperate of commanders would ask more from you than you’ve given already,” I paused and looked straight into the camera pick up.

  “Whether or not I’m a slave driver is up for you to decide but I tell you now, I am desperate. I speak not only for myself, but also on behalf of Commodore LeGodat and the entire Easy Haven Confederation compliment stationed out here. I need you, LeGodat and his men certainly need you, and you need a break. Officers and Crew of the Lucky Clover, you’ve followed me through thick and thin,” I said, glossing over a few incidents and putting the best face on things. “Your unwavering regard for this ship and the best interests of not only ourselves, but of Capria and the Confederation as a whole are what separates you from these new personnel scheduled to come aboard,” out of the corner of my eye, I could see the bridge crew straighten up in their chairs. Tremblay looked slightly proud and even DuPont, whose head I’d essentially put in a vice and threatened to squish was nodding his head.

  “No man, no king and certainly no Admiral has the right to tell you that have to stay here and sacrifice more for the sake of us all. No man may tell you,” I said firmly, paused and then continued in a softer, slower voice, “but I will ask you. Anyone who goes home does so with my blessing and best wishes for your future careers and eventual reassignment, Saint Murphy willing,” I paused as a few chuckles sounded on the bridge, “to a ship under my command or in this fleet we’ve been holding together, through sheer force of will it seems.” I quirked a grin as I realized that at least as far as the bridge crew was concerned, I was reaching them on some level.

  “For those that stay,” I continued, drawing out the moment and carefully ramping up the tension, “I can promise an immediate promotion to a rank equivalent to the job or post you’ve been holding since the Imperials abandoned us
to our own devices, with seniority backdated to the moment you stepped in and assumed those duties, and on top of that,” I said nodding to my wife who stood off camera, and to my irritation whoever in the Comm. section was manning the pickup panned the camera over so it caught Akantha and her expression. Of course, it was her usual Ice maiden look with the barest hint of a smile shining through when she noticed the camera on her, “my wife, the Lady Akantha, has agreed to provide each and every one of you who answers this call to extended service dual citizenship in the Tracto System,” the camera was on me but still picking up Akantha at the edge of its range. I caught the eye of the comm. section and made a sharp gesture with the fingers of my hand, which was down by my thighs. I was trying to be as unobtrusive as possible, but still get across the fact I wanted the camera focused entirely on me and not panning around like some teenager with a webcam.

  “Other than those incentives, all I can promise you is danger, the risk of combat and the certainty that if you volunteer, regardless of whether you stay onboard the Clover or are reassigned to go help man one of the warships rapidly working up in the Easy Haven Yards,” I added that part about the warships working up to tempt them, so they wouldn’t think they were just being assigned to some plodding Star Base command, “you will be able to do so knowing with absolute certainty that it is your sacrifice, and the sacrifices of those like you that makes life safe for each and every citizen in the Spine. Continue to serve and I guarantee you will not be forgotten. You will not be noted and then dismissed, no!" I smashed my fist into my open palm for emphasis. "Your names will be noted in the Hall of Records, and when future generations look back on these troubled times, they will ask were you there with the-” I hesitated for a fraction of a second before deciding to sacrifice my dignity on the altar of necessity, “Little Admiral and the Multi-Sector Patrol Fleet when they rode the space ways of old?!” I finished with a fist pump, followed by a slashing gesture, indicating it was time to cut the shipwide broadcast. I didn’t think I could continue for much longer after throwing out that ‘Little Admiral’ line. Just thinking about it made me want to gag. Not only the hypocrisy of it, but the voluntary bit of self-mutilation I’d just engaged in. Little Admiral indeed, there would be no stopping the use of that nickname now. I shook my head sadly. The things I do in the name of honor, duty and self-preservation.

  Nothing was left to do except go around shaking the hands of the bridge crew, thanking them for their service and tell them I knew they’d make the ‘right’ decision.

  At that point, I’d done everything I could. The pieces were set, and all that was left to do was sit back and wait. Well, wait and hope that enough of my men decided to sign on for a second tour of duty with the ‘Little Admiral’ of their overblown imaginations.

  That and pray, something I am not ashamed to admit that I did as soon as I was out of sight in the Admiral’s ready room.

  The next thing I did after getting up off my knees was contact Engineering and instruct them to begin spinning up the hyperdrive. Regardless of how things turned out, it was never wrong to hedge your bets.

  Chapter 54: Swallowing The Bitter Pill

  “The final tally is in,” Tremblay said disapprovingly.

  “Yes,” I drawled, showing a decided lack of concern over something the results of which would impact my life more than perhaps anything else I'd experienced.

  “Your impassioned plea to the men seems to have had an effect,” Tremblay said, deliberately making me respond before continuing, all the while frowning.

  “Do tell,” I said with a hint of a smile that covered for a sudden roiling in my guts, “how many loyal sons of Capria have heeded the Confederation’s call to continued service?”

  “Not counting the Lancers and the men you ‘recruited’ from the settlers forced to set down on Tracto VI,” Tremblay sneered, disdain for my efforts all but dripping from his mouth, “some 60 odd percent of the crew have decided to forgo the shore leave arranged for them by,” and now his features hardened and his gaze tried to burn a hole right through me, “King James, long may he live,” Tremblay finished, his lips twisting.

  “Why, Mr. Tremblay, your unique take on the traditional salutation commonly uttered for a newly crowned Caprian Monarch could be taken adversely by others than myself,” I said mildly, giving Tremblay a verbal smacking as I tried to digest this information and stop from doing cartwheels, “Besides,” I continued, “no one was ‘forced’ to land and settle anywhere. We can start off with the Belters who may or may not have ‘landed’ on a few asteroids, but I’d hardly call any of their landings of the settlement type. And then we might continue on to our own countrymen who were more than happy to demand, receive and install the Belter’s hyperdish prior to transferring off to points unknown.”

  Tremblay scowled and shook his head at me.

  “My-my-my, both factually inaccurate and overly verbose today,” I commented with a hint of a sneer picking up one corner of my mouth, “what seems to have gotten into our normally staid and officious First Officer?” I asked no one in particular while tilting my head back to look at the ceiling.

  “Staid,” Tremblay demanded incredulously, “if there’s an actual person on this ship who really thinks I’m ‘staid’, I want to meet him so I can give him a hundred credits,” he frowned, before going on the attack, “now who’s being overly verbose.”

  I smirked and shook my head, conceding the point while at the same time denying him the satisfaction of a verbal acknowledgement. What good was being an Admiral if you couldn’t throw your weight around a little? It really was the petty victories that gained one the most satisfaction. Major victories were too hard on the stomach lining for much in the way of instant gratification. Those kind of victories I could do without, if only because every major victory only meant I’d just stood on the precipice of a major defeat.

  Dull and boring were the name of the day as far as I was concerned. Alas, it looked like dull and boring were some of the very last things I was going to be experiencing the near to mid-run future. Rats!

  Chapter 55: Off A Sinking Ship

  I sat for a long time in my Admiral’s office running the numbers and trying to figure a way to give LeGodat enough men to hold out while we were gone and run the Clover at the same time. Any way I stretched it there just weren’t enough men to go around, not to run the Clover and Wolf-9 at the same time.

  It looked like my choices were limited to first: giving LeGodat my ‘reinforcements’ and essentially handing Capria the Star Base along with all its ships and mothballed facilities. Second: telling the Parliamentary holdouts that if Capria didn’t want them, I didn’t either. Or third: saying 'so sorry for everyone here, but Easy Haven is simply not my problem' as I exited the system along with that part of the crew which was sticking with me.

  Or fourth, I could bite the bullet, give the majority of my loyal men a huge task and only semi-safe harbor, at least until they could get LeGodat’s old warships up and running. Meanwhile, I and enough men to run the key sections of the ship; Gunnery, Flag Bridge, Engineering and our Lancer force, tried to hold onto the ship long enough to win over the reinforcements to the Confederation cause and go blast some pirate scum!

  While things looked far too much like the infamous no-win scenario of old, I wasn’t giving up. How many times had things looked impossible, and yet by holding onto our seats as tightly as possible and refusing budge, we’d come out the other end better off than ever before?

  With a sigh, I got on the horn and instructed Colonel Suffic to come up to the ready room. It was time he and I had a little chat.

  ************

  “Sir,” Colonel Suffic said marching into the room and snapping off a salute. “We’re a bit busy right now. To what do I owe the honor?”

  “Colonel Wainwright and his Marines believe they are vital to the security of this ship. I, on the other hand, have absolute faith in abilities of my Lancer force,” I said firmly and Suffic nodded. “Going fo
rward I’ll need this ship buttoned down, guards stationed in Engineering, Gunnery, the Bridge,” I said ticking off points on my fingers. “Your men could be stretched pretty thin.”

  “That’s true, Sir,” the Colonel said with a nod.

  “Just give me the word that you can do it and the matter is settled. If, on the other hand you feel you need additional hands…” I let my voice trail off doubtfully.

  Suffic shook his head. “Those additional hands, we’d have to spend almost as much time watching them as we would guarding the ship,” he said firmly, “because make no mistake, that’s what you’re asking of us: secure and hold this ship in the face of an internal threat.”

  “Potential threat only,” I hastened to point out.

  Colonel Suffic snorted scornfully. “And pigs may fly,” he shook his head. “A Lancer’s job isn’t to hope for the best, that’s for officers and Admirals,” I let the dig fly by, as I didn’t want to risk derailing the conversation, “a Lancer’s job is to expect the worst and prepare accordingly.”

  “Then I guess the only real question is: can you do it with the men you have?” I asked, a tad more than a hint of demand in my voice. “You have what? Somewhere under 2000 men after the mauling we’ve taken along the way here,” I said asking for clarification.

  The Colonel’s forehead wrinkled in obvious confusion. “We were, but with the natives we recruited during our last stop at Tracto VI, we’re well over two thousand,” he said giving me a look.

  “New recruits,” I asked, this time my own brow wrinkling, then it smoothed and I snapped my fingers, “Akantha! It wouldn’t be the first time she’s used my name to recruit warriors for my ‘banner’,” I rolled my eyes.