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Admiral's Ghost

Page 19

by NB VanYoos


  * * * *

  Tyler sat comfortably in one of the luxuriously overstuffed chairs that adorned his favorite viewing room. His mind dwelled on their impending trip to the capital city of Yooso. The trip was moved forward because of his speedy recuperation, which Tyler assumed was due to his Onyalum spirit. His ethereal essence had brought the body back from death, so perhaps this same spirit enhanced its health as well. Either way, Tyler no longer used the wheelchair, and other than minor pain and stiffness in his back, he felt almost normal. The doctors were amazed at the speed of his recovery and gave him the thumbs up to leave Tooland in three weeks.

  Already, the Admiral’s staff began dismantling the temporary headquarters they’d set up at the estate. Tyler knew they were ready to move out of the sticks and back to their headquarters in the exciting city of Yooso. Tyler didn’t hold with their enthusiasm, especially since it meant taking on even greater responsibilities.

  He topped off his wine glass and stared blankly at the view screens lining the wall. Each was tuned to a different channel, and as usual, Tyler watched them all at once, combining newscasts and talk shows to further his knowledge of Poolto. Stories from the capital were common, including speeches from the Emperor concerning the ongoing war effort. It didn’t escape Tyler’s notice that none of the shows mentioned the Admiral despite the Emperor’s assurances to keep the public informed on his progress.

  Tyler wasn’t surprised, the tone from the Emperor’s staff had become cold and distant after the news conference in the hospital. That was why the Marshall pressed for their return to Yooso. As he put it, the longer the Admiral was missing from the political scene, the less his presence would mean.

  Tyler sipped from his wine and looked up as one of the telecasts mentioned the Admiral’s name. A reporter was interviewing one of the surviving commanders from the last battle, and Tyler recalled the man’s name as Baaylir Tredeen, squadron leader from one of the lost carriers. He set his wine glass down and pressed the controls to mute everything but the commander’s interview. The reporter had just asked him what he thought about the military’s current capabilities to fight after the losses they’d suffered.

  “…counter attack, we have been feverishly rebuilding our fleet. Although my own squadron’s carrier was destroyed in that last battle, we have been reassigned to one of the new carriers scheduled to come online in a few weeks. While we wait, we’ve been re-supplied with missing fighters and personnel.”

  The camera was close in on the commander, so Tyler couldn’t make out where they were. Wherever it was, it looked to be nighttime, and that meant either space, or somewhere near Tyler’s time zone. They might even have been near the capital city. Tyler listened carefully to the rest of the commander’s comments.

  “…training everyday. Of course, for security reasons, we cannot discuss either where we are based or where we are currently training. Suffice it to say, my squadron, and those of many of my colleagues are ready to fight again. We look forward to Admiral Osloo’s return in several weeks so we can hear more about his brilliant plans to move this effort forward.”

  Tyler sat back while the reporter asked the commander about what he had heard from Admiral Osloo’s staff. Tyler knew the Marshall had wanted to keep their return to Yooso a secret, but apparently someone had leaked it, and now it was in the news.

  Tyler shrugged it off, it was going to come out eventually, and he’d never been convinced of the value of the secrecy anyway. He switched from the channel and picked up his wine, relishing the particularly exquisite taste of tonight’s selection. Feernii had assured him this particular vintage had won several prestigious awards and because of its small production run, each bottle was worth a great deal of money. Tyler would never have paid so much for a mere bottle of wine back on Earth, but this particular taste was almost compelling enough. He was once again pleased the Admiral was wealthy.

  He was nearing the end of the first bottle, and eyed the second one sitting alone on the bar across the room. Although he’d originally started with a glass or two each night, he had quickly progressed to one to two bottles. Holding his half-empty glass, he leaned back in the chair and thought about the trip ahead. He hoped to find Toosia in Yooso, but wasn’t sure if tracking her down would be easy. After a month and half of constant failures, he was finally convinced to give up trying to contact her. Unfortunately, because they were moving to the political hub of the planet, Tyler feared he needed someone like Toosia to help him navigate the political maze of power.

  He pictured her beautiful face once more as she had stood looking down at him in the hospital. As he met more people from this world, he began to appreciate how beautiful Toosia really was. Her features were delicate, and yet commanding, regal yet soft, and one couldn’t help but notice her when she entered a room. He felt a familiar internal stirring and turned his thoughts away from that which would only lead to disappointment. No use getting worked up about something he’d never see.

  A knock at the open door startled Tyler. The Marshall stood patiently with hands behind his back. The man looked embarrassed at having to interrupt his Admiral, so Tyler assumed the news must be important. The Marshall and the rest of the staff had taken up residence in the West wing, so Tyler rarely saw them after hours. He preferred it that way but didn’t mind the occasional company.

  He motioned to the Marshall. “Come, Marshall, join me in a glass of my family’s most excellent reserve!”

  The Marshall hesitated, but walked over to a comfortable couch perpendicular to Tyler’s chair. As the Marshall sat down, Tyler held up the bottle of sloose berry wine, offering the Marshall a nightcap.

  “Oh, no thank you, sir, I was just heading for bed.” He gave Tyler a puzzled look as he said this.

  “What’s wrong, Marshall, do you abstain from such things?”

  “No, sir, I have been known to imbibe now and again. I simply didn’t realize you did.” He once again looked slightly embarrassed.

  Tyler was certain the Marshall knew the old Admiral had abstained, so Tyler needed to confirm his doubts. “Yes … yes, I did abstain from such things before the accident, but since my recovery, I am beginning to take more interest in the things I have sworn to protect.” At least he wasn’t lying. Death had a way of changing people, he only hoped the Marshall bought the excuse.

  The Marshall paused, absorbing the Admiral’s words. Convinced or not, he wasn’t ready to press the matter.

  “I see your point, Admiral, sometimes it is necessary to re-acquaint ourselves with the world we are fighting for. Perhaps I will join you after all.”

  The Marshall walked to the bar and brought back an empty glass that Tyler poured the remnants of the first bottle into. The Marshall held his glass high in salute as they both leaned back into their seats.

  “Tell me, Marshall, what brings you here so late?”

  “I don’t know if you saw or not,” the Marshall gestured towards the view screens, “but our trip to the capital has been compromised.”

  “Yes, I saw Commander Tredeen’s interview.” Tyler paused briefly. “I thought it went very well.”

  “But, sir, he released our return to the capital before we were ready!” The Marshall was clearly agitated by the leak, and Tyler could guess why. He was sure it had nothing to do with the secrecy of their trip.

  “Yes, Marshall, I understand. Now explain to me why it is so important?” Tyler tired of the secrecy.

  “Sir,” the Marshall began, “I realize it may seem a bit cloak and dagger to keep our return a secret, but you need to understand that a major power play is going on in the capital, and your early return will have a pivotal role in how that plays out.” The Marshall paused. Obviously, he was trying to find the right words to convey his fears. He wrung his hands nervously before reaching for his glass of wine. He drank firmly from the glass. “The Emperor has lost faith in you, sir.” He said it matter-of-fact, a look of relief on his face.

  Tyler was amused—that was the bi
g secret the Marshall was holding back? The signs were there all along, and after the conference, it wasn’t a giant leap to come to that conclusion; yet Tyler sensed something else, something the Marshall was withholding.

  “Fine, I can accept that and even could have predicted it. But again, why does our return need to be a secret?”

  “Sir…” again he paused, “Sir, I don’t know if you realize just how fast your recovery has been. Many around here are touting it as a miracle, not that they believe in such things.”

  “So I heal fast, what is the big deal?” Tyler was surprised at this change in topic.

  “The big deal is the Emperor is trying to move you out of power, replacing you with Vice Admiral Teesen, so he’d hoped to use your slow recovery as a plausible explanation to the military and public. The Emperor saw this as an opportunity to force you into retirement after your decades of noble service.” The Marshall took another large drink. “The retirement, of course, would place you in an advisory position on the military planning council, but your command would be taken away, and thus, your power.”

  “You know all this for fact?” Tyler asked.

  “Well, most of it.” He admitted, “Your placement on the planning council was a projection on my part.”

  “And a good one at that.” Tyler agreed.

  Tyler thought about what the Marshall was saying. Clearly, his return so early, and in such good health, would serve to make him more popular in the eyes of the public and the military. This would work against the Emperor’s plans to retire him for fear of the public backlash. Tyler tapped the Admiral’s memories as a strategist, and deduced how the surprise return would have had a greater impact politically. If the Emperor had no time to prepare, then the Admiral and his staff would have quickly resumed power.

  “I understand the dilemma—we missed an opportunity to regain our power without a nasty fight. Can’t we still use this return to our advantage?” Tyler thought about Toosia once more and her father’s needed position on the Council. Unfortunately, they’d alienated many on the Council, so that avenue seemed remote.

  “Well, we could.” The Marshall didn’t sound certain. “There are many elements in the military that would prefer your leadership to that of the Vice Admiral. Their faith in your abilities will be restored with your early return. Of course, I’ve already been working that angle, scheduling interviews with key personnel who support you.” The Marshall leaned forward, a look of promise replacing his concern. “I suppose that in some ways, Commander Tredeen has already begun that process.”

  Tyler’s mind leaped ahead, “Of course!” He exclaimed. “We marshal our support in the military, and Vice Admiral Teesen will have no other option than to step aside for the triumphant return of his Supreme Commander.”

  “Yes,” the Marshall agreed, “then the Emperor would have no choice but to publicly acknowledge your rightful return. In fact, he would have to issue an official proclamation of your return to duty, and announce his faith in your fitness to take over the war effort. Yes, we may not be out of this game yet!”

  The Marshall finished his wine and stood up. “Admiral, I beg your leave that I may tend to some avenues on this new approach.”

  Tyler smiled. So formal, and yet, the Marshall was clearly happy with the turn of events. Tyler was also happy. For the first time since becoming the Admiral, he felt like he had made some of his own conclusions, and contributed to a new strategy. Sure, he had relied upon the Admiral’s memories to guide him, but the projections felt like his own.

  “Yes, Marshall,” he raised his glass, “thank you for your continued support and loyalty. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  The Marshall bowed slightly before leaving, a renewed spring in his step. Tyler watched the Marshall retreat as he downed his last glass. He glanced across the room at the other bottle, but decided against opening it—tomorrow would be busy.

 

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