Admiral's Fall Page 4

  “Fairness!” scoffed Van Obenheim.

  Dark Matter leaned forward. “The Lucky Clover is a fine ship, but even she is not invincible. We are not your enemy, Admiral Montagne,” said the other Admiral, “please remember that. Nor are we greedy for our own personal or even our world’s interests. We’ve thrown our support behind the New Confederation just like you.”

  “I was brought on board only after receiving specific, written assurances, and I intend to see that those agreements are followed to the letter,” I said flatly. “Any appeal for extra considerations above and beyond that agreement is going to have to come directly from the Spineward Sectors Confederation itself.”

  “Even if it means fracturing this fleet while there are still more than 400 Old Confederation warships loose in this Sector?!” Rear Admiral Van Obenhiem demanded.

  “This is not the middle of a battle we could not afford to lose. So while I was willing to overlook their actions in the name of unity and victory, if the mutineers inside this fleet feel that they would be better served trying to take what is legally mine then I am more than prepared to destroy them right here and right now!” I roared.

  Gretta Van Obenheim was startled, leaning back in her chair.

  “Grand Admiral!” Dark Matter’s voice cracked like a whip. “Control yourself, Sir!”

  I turned and glared him down. “I am the Grand Admiral of the Confederation Fleet. I have been given specific written assurances, and by Murphy we will have what is ours,” I snapped, standing up and slapping the table.

  “No one is trying to stop you or take anything away from you, Montagne,” Rear Admiral Gretta Van Obenheim said, glaring daggers.

  I sneered back unrepentantly. “Omicron, Elysium, Easy Haven, Black Perdition...do any of these battles ring a bell? I’ve learned not to expect 'thanks' for putting my life on the line for the people of the Spineward Sectors. But by the wretched wrench of the Demon Murphy, what my fleet has paid in blood will not be stolen from it by greedy government officials or their stooges in uniform,” I said with ringing finality.

  “We’re stooges now, are we?” Van Obenheim demanded, standing and knocking her chair over. “If that’s how you view us after all that we’ve been through then I think we’re done,” she declared before storming out of the room.

  There was dead silence after she left.

  “Well, that could have gone better,” said Commodore Laurent his voice breaking the looming silence.

  Admiral Dark Matter nodded and then got to his feet. “That was unnecessary,” he said meeting and holding my gaze.

  “Was it? Was it really?” I sniffed.

  “Right now you need allies more than ever. We are your allies…or we were before you completely alienated Admiral Van Obenheim. I’ll try to talk with her,” Dark Matter said wearily.

  “The Rear Admiral’s actions on the battlefield have been impeccable,” I allowed, “however, her actions off it have been something else. Not that I entirely begrudge the woman the necessity of her home world’s political realities. I must simply account for them. As I have.”

  “It must be lonely up there on your self-imposed pedestal,” said Admiral Dark Matter.

  “I wouldn’t know. I haven’t been up there long enough to let things settle in,” I said calmly.

  “I can see we’re not getting anywhere today. I just want you to remember that when things started to go wrong we came here to warn you first, and I, at least, will still be there when you need me,” he sighed and then straightened to attention before snapping off a salute. “If that is all, I will take my leave.”

  “The next time the Spine’s being invaded and you don’t have the forces to do it, or the Grand Assembly proves to be just as ineffective as its been in the past, give me a call. Until then remember: you’re the ones who wanted a meeting, not me,” I retorted.

  “If that’s all?” he asked stiffly.

  “Dismissed,” I said, motioning toward the door.

  Dark Matter turned on his heel and exited the room.

  “That was unfortunate,” said Commodore Druid.

  I gave him a withering look. “Rats from a sinking ship. Like I said, they can take orders during a battle but afterward all they do is look out for their worlds or themselves. We can use that but never forget it,” I said viciously. I was done playing nice just for the sake of playing nice. If the weasels in government who knew better or uninformed Joe and Jane Public wanted to castigate me, that was one thing, but Dark Matter and Van Obenheim had been right there with us. They knew the score and I wasn’t about to take any grief from them.

  “We don’t need to alienate our allies over simple words,” warned Commodore Laurent.

  “I am not about to be soft pedaled out of what is rightfully ours, seeing as that is the only potential benefit we’re going to see from this war,” I said flatly.

  “I wasn’t suggesting that,” Laurent objected, “I was just saying there’s no need to drive officers like Dark Matter and Van Obenheim away.”

  “Either I’m the Grand Admiral of this Fleet or I’m not. Either the promises of the Grand Assembly mean something or they’re worthless. I’m done soft playing this for the good of the Spine. This fleet has bent over backwards to accommodate the Assembly and our fellow officers. It's time they did some accommodating of us,” I said, and then turned to my wife who’d been sitting there in mostly silent support during the whole meeting. “What do you think?” I asked Akantha.

  “I think you’ve done everything you could, and that together we’ve given far more to these people than they’ve given to us. You fight for them, but not only will they not give you the respect you deserve as a powerful warlord, they won’t even seat the Tracto-an Delegation as full members in their Assembly with the right to vote. What is that if not a calculated insult intended to deprive us of the ability to sit there as equals and defend ourselves? In my mind, we’ve bent over backwards. If you’ve finally decided your duty to these people is fulfilled ,I know the people of Tracto could use more of your time and attention,” she said.

  I nodded slowly. “I’m not yet ready to abandon the Spine. But something has to change, and it is not going to be me simply handing over what little leverage we still have,” I said calmly.

  Then my slate beeped.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “Sorry to bother you, Admiral Montagne, but Grand Admiral Manning is on his way over to the flagship. His shuttle will be docking in two minutes unless you order us to deny him entry,” reported Lisa Steiner.

  “It never rains but it pours. Why not deal with the Grand Admiral as well today?” I sighed.

  “Admiral Montagne, thank you for seeing me on such short notice,” said Manning as soon as he stepped into the room.

  “Grand Admiral, the pleasure is mine,” I said.

  On one side of the table that dominated the room was myself, Akantha, Steiner and the Commodores Laurent and Druid.

  The other side of the table was empty.

  Manning raised a hand. “Just plain 'Admiral' please, Montage. Grand Admiral sounds so…pretentious. Especially considering how we’re both now technically ‘Grand’ Admirals and you’re my superior. To be honest, I wouldn’t be offended even if you continued to refer to me as High Captain. It is a rank I have had the most time to grow accustomed to, after all,” he said as a trio of officers filed into the room behind him.

  I motioned to the table indicating for him and his men to sit. “State your intentions,” I said.

  “I can see we won’t be beating around the bush today,” Manning said wryly.

  “You’re here on your own accord, you wanted this meeting not me. Never let it be said I’m a commander who’s not open to hearing the advice or concerns of his subordinates,” I replied.

  “And now starts the double speak,” said Manning.

  My temper flared. “Get to the point, Grand Admiral,” I said, my voice thinning.

  “You act shorter-tempered than a bu
siness owner during tax season,” snorted Manning.

  “If all you came here to do was throw around a few barbs then we can consider this matter closed,” I said, standing up smoothly.

  “You know the reason I’m here, Montagne,” said Grand Admiral Manning, “the ships.”

  “The ships,” I said, nodding as I sat back down, “you’re not the first Admiral I’ve spoken with regarding the captured hulls.”

  “Oh?” Manning cocked his head. “Who got here before me?”

  “Dark Matter and Van Obenheim felt the need to bend my ear earlier this morning,” I replied.

  “Not surprising,” Manning said.

  I gave him a piercing look.

  “No need to look at me like that. The way you speak about them so nonchalantly, as if they were a handful of ships instead of four hundred banged up and battered warships—enough to shift the balance of power throughout the entire Confederation—would give anyone cause for alarm,” said Manning.

  “Less than two hundred of them are salvageable as anything more than spare part and, unless I recall incorrectly, you’ve already taken custody of seventy four of the easily repairable ones,” I retorted.

  “Leaving you with a hundred and twenty of the best hulls and, I’ll note, of the thirty five Battleships that might be salvageable you’ve taken 23 of them. That’s a two-to-one ratio in your favor,” said Manning.

  “Blame the Assembly for giving me such a sweet deal,” I said with a wintery smile. I wasn’t about to bend on this even if he held a knife to my throat…well, okay, maybe if he held a knife to my throat. Where there’s life, there’s hope, and I couldn’t help anyone if I was dead and dying over a handful of warships while there were still more than four hundred Confederation warships out there.

  “The Grand Assembly requires a prize court be arraigned before any hulls are dispensed to the interested parties,” Admiral Manning pointed out.

  “Yes. At a ten percent ratio to the government and a 90% ratio to the individual ships or affiliated naval defense force that captures them. Which is why, in the fullness of time, I expect to see several of the warships currently with you to be returned to me in Tracto,” I said with a shark-like smile.

  The Grand Admiral stiffened. “The way I see it, your forces made up less than half of the fleet and yet you’re obviously planning to take the lion’s share of the hulls with you when you go,” Manning growled.

  “Putting aside the questionable, some would say 'mutinous' actions of the ship commanders now under your command—actions which would invalidate their claims during the battle for Black Purgatory—half my ships were damaged or destroyed in this last battle. We’ve done our share. On top of that, the MSP provided half the Battleships and the only Super Battleship in the fleet. In weight of metal alone, we pulled more than our fair share,” I said.

  “An interesting question to put before the prize court. Whether it is number of hulls or the size of the ships that count when apportioning group kills,” said Manning.

  I gave him back a civilized smile.

  “In the interest of cooperation, I’m willing to apportion the destroyed warships according to hulls contributed if that is the prize court’s decided wisdom,” I said.

  “How agreeable of you. I’m surprised,” said Manning.

  “Instead, we will press our claims on those ships that were solely defeated by MSP ships and space-based weaponry, or who surrendered directly to myself as Admiral of the Multi-Sector Patrol Fleet,” I said.

  “I see,” Manning said with a grunt. For a moment he seemed to swell up and then he sighed, “Well I can’t say as I’m surprised. You’re going to catch flak over this, you realize?”

  “There will always be those who are against progress,” I dismissed.

  “And there’s the Tyrant this Sector has come to know and expect,” said Manning.

  I gave the number two fleet Admiral a hard look. “I’ve allowed you a lot of leeway because you’re the second most senior member of the new Confederation fleet. But don’t think for a moment my patience is unlimited,” I leaned forward, “this is not the middle of a space battle with the fate of both our worlds hanging in the balance. You’re on the deck of my flagship—the Super Battleship Lucky Clover.”

  “You’re not going to do anything to me,” Manning dismissed, “why risk a schism that would tear this fleet apart, especially when I’m prepared to stand aside and allow you to leave with the ships you’ve already set aside for yourself?”

  “That seems strangely reasonable of you,” I said, straightening my posture with a twitch of surprise.

  Manning waved a hand. “If you arrest me I’ll just be back out again as soon as you turn me over to the judiciary. Nothing I’ve done is worthy of a terminal solution,” he replied.

  “Which explains why you think you can get away with twitting me, but does nothing to inspire any confidence in you on my end,” I pointed out. “In my experience when the potential for raw power, like these captured hulls for instance, is waved in the air like a bloody hunk of meat just ripe for the taking no one cares about past deals, written or otherwise. Much less any far more reasonable solutions,” I said.

  “Like you said, we’re still heavily outnumbered by the Glorious Fleet remnants that escaped Black Purgatory. Just as you do, I can see no reason to fall to infighting at a time like this, no matter what the Grand Assembly says,” he replied.

  “The Grand Assembly…I can’t think that’s a particularly popular opinion to hold inside your current task force, Grand Admiral,” I mocked.

  His face hardened. “You don’t know when to take the blasted olive branch even when it’s handed directly to you, do you Montagne?” Manning swore.

  I eyed him skeptically. “Is that what this is?” I asked cynically. I still wasn’t sure what to make of this.

  “It’s simple. This fleet may not see it. The Assembly may not see it. But the sad fact is we still need you,” Manning said harshly and then his demeanor lightened ever so slightly, “besides, after that stunt you pulled with the Bugs, you’re not long for your current office. Sooner or later your job is mine and you’ll be saluting me and not the other way around...or, more likely, you’ll be saluting both me and some other stooge like the Marshal or whatever Grand Admiral Speaker Isaak thrusts into office over my head.”

  I scowled. “I can see you’re ready to start picking over my corpse while I’m still alive, Grand Admiral,” I said, twisting his rank in my mouth like something disgusting, “although I honestly wonder just how long you’ll enjoy the office or how well you’d have done if it had been you charged with winning this battle.”

  “Probably not nearly as well, which is why it’s fortunate you were in charge and not me,” he smiled sardonically, “and you can believe as much or as little of that as you desire; it’s no skin off my nose. But it’s also part of the reason why I’m not interested in queering the deal before we’re done dealing with the Glorious Fleet,” Manning had the grace to admit. “We won thanks to your Bugs and Elder jump tech, and I’m not ashamed to admit it. Would I have found another way to win had I been in command? It’s entirely possible, but I wasn’t—you were, and you drove them off at four to one odds. None of that negates our need for your ships to finish sweeping up. As for my willingness to take over after you’re relieved of command or shifted sideways? Don’t hate me for taking advantage of a situation in order to ensure competent leadership is there for the transition. If you didn’t want something like this to happen you shouldn’t have brought biological weapons like the Bugs to the battle. Don’t hate me because you’ve practically thrust yourself onto the alter like some old time pagan sacrifice,” Manning said pitilessly.

  “It’s good we both know where we stand then,” I said with a patently false smile. I thrust a finger down on the table with resounding force. “But make no mistake. My bottom line begins and ends with the safety of my people and those ships. All of my ships, including the captures we haven’t sent
over to you. You say you don’t want to tear First Fleet apart? Then don’t make me do something we’ll both regret,” I said, laying out my position and then drawing a line in the sand.

  Manning took a deep breath. “I probably shouldn’t, but seeing as how I couldn’t stop you even if I wanted to—and make no mistake, I do want to—you have my word. Take your people. Take your hulls. Just make sure not to leave anything behind because if and when you go, I make no promises after you leave,” he said pitilessly.

  “We have an accord,” I said.

  “As far as I’m concerned politics is politics, sometimes you’re up and sometimes you’re down. In the end I’m an officer, not a politician, at least not any more than I have to be as part of the Admiralty,” said Manning.

  I stroked my chin. “If there’s nothing else, my people will see you out,” I said gesturing to the door.

  “I’ll take my leave,” said Manning.

  Chapter 7: The Grand Dunce

  Not four days after the epic battle for control of Black Purgatory a courier ship point transferred into the star system and immediately started its message on every communications channel known to the Spineward Sectors.

  “Someone’s definitely trying to make sure we hear what they have to say,” said the com-tech manning the console on the flag bridge of the Lucky Clover.

  “Don’t be a dolt. It's squawking an Assembly encryption protocol. It’s just more likely they want to make sure we can’t later claim we didn’t receive their transmission,” said Lisa Steiner.

  “How did they manage to get a message out here this fast? That’s what I want to know,” I said as the blast doors opened behind me.

  “Was there enough time for them to receive a report telling them how the battle went or even where we are?” asked Spalding as stepped into the room.