Admiral's War Part Two (A Spineward Sectors Novel: Book 10)

by Luke Sky Wachter

  “Guards!” I shouted, leveling a finger at the Full Admiral from Praxis as Wainwright’s Marines came marching into the room. “Clap that man in irons and escort him to the brig.”

  “On what charge?” yelled a Praxis Captain sitting next to Vextriam while the Full Admiral just crossed his arms over his chest and looked down his nose at me. He presented the very picture of a man certain of his righteousness and position as he hammed it up for the rest of the Captains, Commodores and Admirals in the room.

  “You go too far, Montagne!” snapped a man in a Caprian SDF pattern uniform, who’d been sitting quietly in his corner of the room while the argument had raged back and forth up to this point. Looking over, I could see that he was the captain of the People’s Initiative, an old style dreadnaught class Battleship from my home world—make that former home world. “You can’t just arrest a man from another government and organization who disagrees with you any time you feel like, even if you are the pirate we know you well to be!”

  “The charge is insubordination, mutiny, inciting mutiny and attempted planetary piracy,” I spoke over the top of the growing clamor.

  “You don’t have the authority,” shouted the Praxis Captain, pounding his fist on the table while the Praxis guards standing behind each member of the Praxis contingent leveled their weapons at my Marines.

  “Even if the Sector Governor hadn’t placed me in command of the joint sector defense force, I could still invoke my authority as a Confederation Admiral and formally take command of the defense of this Sector. That’s two lines of authority for you, Captain,” I said folding my arms across my chest and glaring right back at the Praxis contingent.

  “We do not recognize your authority,” sneered the Captain, “the authority of a murderer and pirate! What a joke!”

  “You’ve lost, Montagne,” sneered Admiral Vextriam, “give up the ghost and knuckle under like a good little boy and maybe I’ll put in the good word for you at your trial. If, that is, you can truly and honestly convince me that you’re willing to put aside your self-perceived grievances and fight wholeheartedly in the defense of this Sector, I might even be willing to let you fight in the upcoming battle. However—”

  -Bang-

  That was the sound of an old-style, chemically-powered hand weapon discharging, sending blood and brain matter out the side of the Full Admiral’s head. For a short second, he stood there looking stunned and surprised before collapsing to the deck.

  “Murderer!” screamed the Praxis Captain, leveling his finger at me.

  “Admiral Montagne was right in that your Full Admiral was both insubordinate and attempting to incite a mutiny,” said Rear Admiral Nuttal, pivoting to point the still-smoking barrel of his chemical hand cannon at the Praxis officer. “But he didn’t kill him—I did. Stand down before you join him in the annals of history as his dead accomplice—one who started a gun fight in the Sector Defense Council meeting.”

  “You?” the Praxis Captain accused incredulously, lifting a hand to temporarily stall the Praxis contingent guards as realization dawned on his features. “You killed him!”

  “There’s only one punishment for the crime of mutiny in cold space—and that’s death,” Grantor Nuttal said evenly.

  The Praxis captain opened his mouth.

  “Stand down, Captain,” a man with the hashtags of a Praxis Commodore on his shoulder boards said, standing up and placing a hand on his shoulder.

  “But Sir!” protested the Captain.

  “The Full Admiral had orders from our home world to secure command of this fleet if at all possible, and I had orders to lead our contingent if he failed. He’s obviously not going to be commanding anything from now on,” said the Commodore.

  “I don’t believe…” started the Captain trailing off as the Commodore handed the Captain a sheaf of hard copy. “Ahh!” he cried crumpling the paper in his hands.

  “As I said to my subordinate,” the Commodore continued, eyeing me coolly, “my orders are to follow your orders to the best of my abilities and assist in the defense of this Sector with all of my power, Sir,” he finished meeting and holding my gaze before sitting back down.

  I blinked in surprise, but since I was somewhat used to operating in violent situations, violent boardroom situations, I nodded as smoothly as I was able and then turned to look at the rest of the room.

  “Well it seems that the Praxis objections have been dealt with and they are determined to stick it out with us, despite the vigorous objections of their previous commander. Are there any other objections or are we finally ready to get down to the nuts and bolts of turning this star system into a death trap that will, at the very least, take those dastardly Reclamationists down with us?” I asked coolly.

  An SDF Vice Admiral who had been quiet up to this point looked at me coldly. “I don’t think I like the way you do business, Admiral Montagne,” she said.

  “Welcome to the party,” snorted the Captain of the People’s Initiative, “we’ve been complaining about ‘those people’ for decades now—it’s part of why we overthrew their regime back in the day and replaced them with a more rational family line. You ought to watch out for his wife as well, she’s just as crazy as the line she married into.”

  “When I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it, Captain,” the SDF Vice Admiral said dryly and turned back to me. “Admiral I’m still waiting for an answer.”

  “I wasn’t aware there was a question in there, Vice Admiral of the SDF,” I said, locking eyes with her, not bothering to take the time to check her name. I could always find out later if it became important.

  “Then let me be blunt: can we now expect to be shot in the back of the head if we verbally disagree with you or your policies…Sir?” she asked harshly.

  “Vigorously, and without any military courtesy or respect, disagree with me?” I clarified contemplatively and then looked at her sharply. “In that case then you can expect to be asked if you want to leave, be told to leave, and if you repeatedly fail and flagrantly continue to disagree before going on to propose mutiny and attempt to oust me from command, I’ll have my guards lock you up in the nearest brig until we can find the time to put you on trial or send you back home. Depending on the circumstances, you’ll probably be tried by your own people,” I paused waiting a beat before adding, “Of course, what the rest of you choose to do to one another and to anyone who continues to grandstand and resist arrest after the guards have arrived…well, I won’t hold myself responsible for the entirely legal actions taken by any of you, my lawful subordinates, against any of the rest of you who are in a state of rebellion against lawful authority. Mutiny in cold space is still mutiny after all.”

  Her nostrils flared and a large number of men and women around the table frowned, but the tension within the room eased after I pointed out that the most I’d done was try to arrest the man. It was one of them—a man they could verify I had no connection with—who had done the deed of putting down the Praxis Full Admiral.

  “Now then, my proposal is to picket the surrounding star systems with small two and three ship pickets. Two squadrons of Destroyers are to find and shadow the Reclamation Fleet if possible, and finally here is my plan for the comprehensive defense of this star system,” I said, pulling up the files on the holo-projector and displaying them for everyone in the room. “As you can see, we’re going to turn Wolf-9 into a fortress. Next we’ll need to start integrating your individual contingents into the main fleet. I’m thinking several taskforces as shown here..” I said, decisively attempting to move this meeting beyond the question of fleet command and straight into the nuts and bolts of using this star system to defend the entire Sector.

  Not that I thought killing the opposition was going to suddenly turn everyone into fervent believers in me—quite the opposite. However, doing my best to ignore the blood spatter on the wall, I figured it was better to try to win them with ideas rather than rhetoric.

  I would deal with any further challenges later.
For now, all I could do was play the hand I’d been dealt.

  Chapter Five: A meeting of the minds

  The last of the SDF officers in the conference room filed out and the door swished shut. The only people left in the room were myself and the Commodore nominally in command of Wolf-9 and the Easy Haven contingent.

  He cleared his throat, snapping me out of my reverie.

  “Yes?” I asked with a sigh.

  “Your Star System?” LeGodat asked flatly.

  I looked at his quizzically. “And here I thought I was going to have to field comments on all the blood splattered against the wall of your conference room,” I drolled.

  “It’s good that you recognize that this isn’t your conference room, but there isn’t that much blood considering the weapon,” Commodore LeGodat said clinically and then stared at me. “But let’s get back to this ‘your star system’ business.”

  “Well that’s a relief,” I shook my head, “and here I thought we had something serious to actually talk about like, say, how one of my supposed to be subordinate officers was just murdered in front of the rest of my supposed subordinate officers.”

  “Yeah, it sounds like you have a problem,” said LeGodat.

  “Your concern is overwhelming,” I mocked.

  “Alright, a big problem,” he said.

  “Geez, you’re not helping here,” I rolled my eyes toward the wall.

  “Let’s just be clear here: this star system belongs to the Confederation. It’s not the private property of one Jason Montagne, honorary Confederation Admiral,” LeGodat said seriously.

  “What bug crawled up your pipe and died?” I rounded on the Commodore. “I mean seriously. Is it because the Full Admiral was shot in here? Because if so, I didn’t shoot him or order him to be shot. There are much better targets to vent your ire on if that’s the case. And as far as system ownership is concerned,” I said when he started looking irritated, “let me be clear: Wolf-9 is your bailiwick. The last thing I need is yet another charge of planetary piracy. I’m just here to help bail you out of this mess and, after that’s over, I’ll be back to Tracto.”

  “Bail me out? You were the one that all but invited them to come straight here,” LeGodat said with outrage.

  “They would have come here eventually!” I shot back sharply. “Besides, I wasn’t the one who designated Easy Haven the hub of Sector Defense and a rallying point for all of the various SDF’s in the Sector who can actually see past their noses and realized we need to pull together before we all hang separately.”

  “That’s rich,” snorted LeGodat, “blame me for the Governor’s plans.”

  “If the shoe fits, better you than me. By the time I got involved it was all a done deal anyway, it was either walk or take charge,” I said dismissively, “and as for lusting after control of this star system, you couldn’t be more wrong. I was just making clear that this is a Confederation outfit and I was the top Confederation officer in the region. There was no way I’m letting them try to take this place over. No way, no how,” I said, a grim look flitting across my face as I recalled all the losses we’d taken so far thanks to fractious infighting amongst us and our nominal ‘allies.’

  “I’m glad that that’s clear, so just make sure to keep it that way,” said LeGodat, probably referring to the star system’s ownership. “As for making things clear and telling our friends and allies you’d walk if they didn’t knuckle under, I’m surprised that only one man had been shot. I’m even more surprised that no one else vowed to leave the defense effort. But then, that’s another conversation entirely.” “You’re right that it’s another conversation,” I said flatly, “and don’t count your chickens before they’ve come home to roost. I wouldn’t tell me that I was about to take my ships and split faster than a banana in ice-cream either, not after Rear Admiral Nuttal shot him down in front of everyone. So don’t be surprised if we start bleeding the faint of heart.”

  Colin LeGodat gritted his teeth. “Another reason a kinder, gentler approach might have been better—at least at the start,” he retorted.

  “Look on the bright side. There’s no way they can message back home, thanks to the Imperials nuking-slash-hiding-slash-whatever they did so that we can’t use the ComStat network anymore, before whatever’s already in the pipeline gets here. By the time the couriers can turn around and get here we’ll probably have already dealt with the Reclamation Fleet and the point will be moot,” I advised him. “And as far as the kinder, gentler approach, while I’m not going to duck out on my responsibility for the way I got my head handed to me by Janeski, I’m also not going to allow the sort of influences that pushed me into taking us into that system in the first place to crop up again. I’m done with pimples like Silverback who only know how to shout loudly, ignore orders, and then run away from his flagship when the going gets tough to influence my decision-making going into the future.”

  “This is a divided coalition command and, whatever you think about Silverback and men and women like him, there are certain realities that you have to deal with when you’re in command of multiple small, previously independent formations,” Commodore LeGodat pointed out. “Oh, and for the record I’d have to be driven out before I’d leave my post here in Easy Haven, orders from the MSP or no orders. It’d take an act of the Grand Assembly to move me out of here before then.”

  “Yeah, I figured about as much. That’s part of why I hoped they wouldn’t walk. I mean, in addition to the fact that I want a rematch with Imperial Rear Admiral Arnold Janeski like you wouldn’t believe,” I added.

  “Well then just so long as we’re clear,” LeGodat said, sitting back with some slight measure of satisfaction. “Hey, do you want to go down to the bar for a fizz water?”

  “The Chief Engineer of my ship has outlawed anything but light ales and Gorgon Iced Mead. I’m not sure what he’d think about me going around his restrictions just because I’m currently off ship,” I said with a straight face.

  “Did you or did you not hear me offer fizz water—or is he outlawing juice and water as well?” LeGodat said dryly. “Because if so my people would probably be interested in just how he’s been able to produce enough ale to continually replace the water ration for an entire Battleship complement. That’s’ some industrial grade production going on in there if so.”

  I snorted unable to hold it in any longer as I laughed and clapped him on the shoulder, “I think I could use that drink. A fizz water sounds right just about now.”

  “Youth before beauty,” he said, gesturing toward the door.

  “Everyone’s a comedian,” I rolled my eyes as I headed out the door.

  Chapter Six: Discord behind closed doors

  Glue motioned for the other Sundered to enter the mess hall. It was the only room in his Corvette big enough to support the five Sundered ship masters—four of them, including himself, full-sized males who took up too much room for comfort in a human built ship. The fifth was unusually, at least among Sundered who walked the war path, a smaller female. And while she didn’t really count as oversized, when it came to overfilling a room the others more than made up for it with their incredible bulk.

  Thus the mess hall.

  “What can this Glue do for you?” he asked without preamble once they were seated, refreshments were served, and the doors were shut.

  The generally younger males glanced at him and then looked away until all eyes ultimately rested upon the sole female in the room. She was happily standing on her chair, leaning over the table and digging around in the fruit bowl.

  Pausing, fruit in hand, she finally realized the rest of the room was looking at her. She blinked and then, taking her fruit back with her, she plopped down on her chair and started peeling it.

  One of the males cleared his throat.

  Finally looking fed up with all the prompting looks, she scowled at the rest of the room and took vicious a bite of her banana—peel and all.

  “What? Since I’m the sole female i
n the room, of course it has to be me who tells the Primarch you all want to run away?” she munched on her fruit angrily. “I’m ambivalent about the whole idea myself, so you can just male the code up and do what all you males seem to think you do best all the time anyways and take charge. I’m just here because I’m a shipmaster; this is a shipmaster’s meeting and I’ll be deep fried in batter and butter oil if the Roving Banana is going to left out of the decision making process while you boys grunt, howl at, and thump on each other,” she finished, baring her teeth humorlessly.

  There was a bewildered silence in the room as the other shipmasters tried to process her outburst.

  Although he knew that he should feel like glaring at everyone to establish dominance, Glue was too busy fighting the smile that threatened to break out.

  Another shipmaster—the only other male in the room around the same age as Glue—snorted while covering his mouth. “Don’t worry, she’s just here for the ‘!GOSsip!’,” he faked an explosive cough with that last word and then fell to a chuckle.

  “Hey now, the only overt sexism allowed inside this compartment will be decidedly male-directed thank you very much! And for your information I did come here to get all the good gossip; the Maker alone knows I don’t get any of the really good dirt back onboard the Banana. Something about being the HFIC really kills the information flow,” the female shipmaster of the Roving Banana said, lifting her left leg with its cybernetic claw in a threatening gesture. To emphasize her feelings on the subject, she brought it down with a squeal of tortured metal as it scraped the edge of the table that was totally at odds with the half smirk on her face.