Admiral's Nemesis Part II Page 4

  I didn’t fail to note that in responding he referenced only himself and my method of information transmission, committing nothing from either himself or his group and giving away nothing regarding his own personal thoughts on the subject.

  Not that this was a surprise. One didn’t get to be a leader in any community and stay there for as long as Glue had, even only counting the length of time I’d known him, without gaining a bare modicum of political horse sense. And one of the key requirements of any politician was to always appear in agreement, except to one’s direct and mortal political enemies, while never actually agreeing to anything without consulting.

  The droid chairman’s servos whined as he leaned his whole body forward and slightly to one side.

  “What is Tracto’s position on this development?” Bottletop IIV asked, looking directly at Akantha.

  “Not only does Tracto stand with my Protector, as usual, we have voted to establish this new Confederation and accepted a provisional status within it,” she said.

  Bottletop IIV drummed its fingers on the tabletop. “That being the case, the United Sentient Assembly would like to clarify the new Confederation in the Spine’s position on non-human and electronic life forms,” said the Chairman.

  Glue nodded in agreement, a faint growl escaping from his lips.

  “It’s too soon to tell what exactly the position of this new Confederation will be as it's barely had time to do more than establish itself,” I cut in smoothly, seeing where their concern was and moving swiftly to cut it off at the pass.

  “With all proper respect to the Admiral, my question was for the Hold Mistress,” Bottletop IIV interrupted.

  I stiffened, unable to keep my eyes from hardening for a split second before deciding to laugh it off and shake my head.

  “It doesn’t matter what their position was, is, or will become, because our world has only accepted a provisional status. The scheming men of the stars think they can plunder our riches using the threat of an outside force and a less than equal status within their meeting hall, to pressure us into accepting their policies and paying large tributes in return for their support,” Akantha explained firmly. “However, the women of Messene are women of honor and our word is good. You have nothing to fear at this time.”

  “You understand our concerns, I hope,” Glue rumbled.

  “I realize neither of you have said it, but for Tracto to join together in common cause with those who you might consider your sworn enemies, without even consulting us first, cannot help but be concerning,” Bottletop said. “That is why I will make a definitive statement right now that so long as you are true and faithful to your word as our allies, we will defend this star system and all within her to the death and break off all relations with the Confederation in the Spine if necessary.”

  “That is not a wise position,” Glue said, his nose wrinkling appreciatively.

  “We knew what we were getting into when we accepted you into our star system. Tracto is resolute in her commitments and only the breaking of our agreement, the conquest of our system or god himself could cause us to change our minds,” Akantha said in a ringing voice. “We offered safe harbor in Tracto System in exchange for knowledge, warriors to help fight our battles, and mechanical marvels to enrich our people. Nothing you have done has caused us to change our minds.”

  “The United Sentients Assembly appreciates your firm statement of support, even though we realize nothing in our agreements require our support for your internal decisions. We are satisfied for now that this new Confederation is not yet a direct threat to us and our way of life,” said the Chairman.

  “I’m glad that’s out of the way,” I said, feeling grumpy although you wouldn’t think it to look at my face.

  “I am sorry for the interruption, Admiral Montagne,” Bottletop IIV said, lowering his head, “please pardon an old model for its concern and rudeness. You were saying something about your position regarding the New Confederation if my data banks are operating properly?”

  “Sometimes the niceties that keep civilization from descending into anarchy and strife must be cast aside during times of great concern, alarm and warfare. Although thankfully we have not, yet, reached that last state,” I said after a moment, extending a small olive branch in return, “and yes, I did say that your hard drive is still operating properly.”

  “Then please act as if I had never spoke and continue,” Bottletop IIV said, gesturing quasi-invitingly with its spindly arms.

  “I think my position on the new Confederation should be reasonably clear. I don’t like it but for now it’s the best of a bad set of options. I was prepared to fight to the death for the Old Confederation but, as it now appears they’ve literally sold us down the river, or at least to the Empire, they can keep their thirty pieces of silver. I’m out,” I paused, taking in and then releasing a pent up breath, “and since they effectively forced me out,” I shrugged, “well, that being the case, my job as I see it remains essentially unchanged.”

  “In what way is that after being?” asked Glue.

  I eyed him, momentarily confused as to the exact question before puzzling it out. “The Multi-Sector Patrol Fleet was formed to protect the Spine by the Spine, or at least three whole Sectors of it. I don’t see why it can’t continue with that mission for the foreseeable future,” I said, feeling let down.

  Akantha placed a hand on my arm. I nodded at her appreciatively and reached up to capture her hand with my own. I gave it a squeeze and then looked up at the others.

  “I won’t deny that it hurts spending years protecting this Sector in the name of the Confederation, only to see everything I’ve worked for go up in flames. But our choices are essentially nonexistent: either we help this new nest of snakes or we hand the whole region over to the Empire. The very same blighters that threw everything into chaos or we can stand up and be counted,” I said finally, “as I see it. Even if we did that the Empire wouldn’t be too happy that a proscribed world like Tracto has suddenly become a major player on the local scene. At the very least the MSP would be disbanded, our ships and everything we’ve worked for handed over to the Imperial Navy, and Tracto’s trillium mines seized. Maybe nationalized, maybe just heavily taxed to pay for the rebuilding of the Sector with an inspector hanging over the shoulder of every ore processing unit. I don’t know. What I do know is I’ve spent too long fighting for truth, justice and the Confederation way to just give up now. If the Old Confederation has abandoned its principles…well maybe just maybe this new Spineward Confederation can pick up where it left off.”

  “A noble sentiment,” Bottletop IIV applauded, the droid stationed behind him nodding in agreement.

  “Historically the Confederation has oppressed my people less heavily than the Empire,” Glue said much more neutrally.

  It wasn’t quite the ringing endorsement I’d been hoping for, but I’d take what I could get. Even as I silently wondered if I was so eager to take up the banner of this new Confederation because the head of this new invasion fleet was the very man who orbitally bombarded my home world, or because I was becoming power mad.

  I didn’t like to think it but back when I first started all I wanted to do was hand the reins of the Lucky Clover back over to the proper authorities. But at this point I’d bypassed several opportunities to give it all up and fade away into the woodwork. At first only the repeated attempts to blame me for the chaos in the Spine had stopped me. But now, after so much time, effort and, yes, lives…

  I guess you could say that over the years I’d grown accustomed to being the Admiral. Did that make me a bad man? I’d like to think it didn’t. But what separated me from any other warlord in the Spine if I no longer pledged allegiance to the Old Confederation. Good intentions? A desire to fight for the people? Isn’t that how any number of totalitarian régimes and dictatorships started out?

  I won’t deny I was an eager Admiral and a reluctant Prince but I had no desire to be a dictator, warlord or whatever you ca
lled it to dress things up and make them more palatable. Best intentions aside, if Governor Isaak somehow took control of this new Confederation and tried to double cross, betray or otherwise kill, destroy or imprison my people, I would throw over this new Confederation faster than you could say 'viva la revolution.' I was done being used by power-hungry politicians.

  “Well, with that ringing endorsement there is something I’ve been meaning to do for some time,” I said, pulling out a data-slate and sliding it over to the Primarch.

  The Primarch glanced down at the slate and frowned.

  “I know you refused before, but you deserve a promotion for your efforts in the last Battle for Easy Haven. I’d still like to hold a formal promotions ceremony and give you the recognition you deserve, Primarch,” I said.

  Glue kept looking at the tablet and then shook his head resolutely.

  “There is no good reason to inflame the base-stock of Tracto over a Sundered person. Not when there is so much tension already over Droids and Sundered in the Fleet and on human space stations,” Glue paused and then slapped his thigh, “doing so would only be after causing a backlash to my own people. My pride is not worth their pain and suffering,”’ he said firmly and slid the data-slate back toward me. “Besides, your Confederation must already being after despising you for not sending us away or killing us. Do not lose your standing amongst your own people over this Glue. We still need you as a shield for the Sundered people.”

  “Well I think no matter what you think of yourself, your people deserve to see you standing up there and being recognized. But since I can’t claim to know your own people’s situation better than you do, we won’t hold a formal ceremony,” I said, feeling conflicted before adding, “but I’m still promoting you.”

  Pulling a pair of Commodore’s rockets out of my pocket, I tossed them to the Sundered.

  “Admiral, No,” Glue rumbled firmly, letting them hit the edge of the table and fall to the floor.

  “Yes, Primarch, you’re being promoted,” I said with certainty.

  “The Sundered are being an allied force. We are not of your fleet. You can’t promote me,” Glue rejected.

  “I can and will give you the recognition you deserve,” I riposted. One corner of my mouth turned up as a thought occurred to me, “Besides, the Multi-Sector Patrol Fleet has a long history of recognizing honorary commissions and acting ranks. I’m sure issuing an honorary commission and an acting Commodore’s rank won’t be that difficult.”

  Glue frowned.

  “There’s nothing you can do to stop it so you might as well learn to accept it gracefully,” I said.

  “Jason can be quite stubborn when he wants to be,” Akantha advised, “and he is correct: your actions in battle deserve recognition.”

  “My own people recognize me. That is enough,” Glue grumbled, shaking his head in defeat.

  “Not well enough,” Akantha disagreed.

  “Good, it’s settled them,” I said.

  “No ceremony though,” Glue glared.

  I opened my mouth.

  “As you wish,” Akantha said placing a hand on my arm.

  “Fine,” I conceded, turning my palms upward.

  “Fine,” Glue said, popping his lips disrespectfully.

  For several seconds the two of us locked eyes.

  “Since that’s settled, let me be the first one to congratulate you on your promotion, Primarch,” Bottletop IIV said, standing up and extending a hand.

  The towering Sundered stood up, his head almost reaching the ceiling, his oversized hand engulfing the Chairman’s to the point the droid’s metal manipulators all but disappeared in his hairy grip.

  “I am truly gladdened to witness this scene of intersentient cooperation. It’s one small step in the right direction but you can rest assured that the USA is more than willing to stand witness to this slightly momentous occasion!” the droid said eagerly.

  After everyone in the room had the chance to extend their congratulations to the Primarch, I looked over at the one person in the room who hadn’t said anything up to this point.

  “Any words of wisdom for us, Commander?” I asked.

  “I don’t know what you’re expecting from me,” the old Engineer harrumphed.

  “Well if I lose we might not ever be able to go home. And while that’s not a big deal for me, the rest of the crew, including yourself—” I began blithely before Spalding cut me off.

  “How has switching from one Confederation a thousand light years away to a closer one a couple hundred away made it so I can’t return home?” Spalding asked bestowing upon me a withering look. “Use that brain in your head for something other than filling out paperwork. The only thing stopping me from going back to Capria is Parliament, plain, pure and blasted simple. Sweet crying Murphy, it’s an elected impediment back home not either Confederation that’s stopping me—not, that is to say, that they could actually keep me if I was really determined. Which I’m not; I like it here just fine. I mean who else would be foolish enough to let me build and then play with a space yard any time I feel like it?” he finished confidently.

  While I was fighting the urge to make a comment, Akantha smiled in happy agreement.

  “You will always be free to use our equipment and tools,” she assured him.

  I gritted my teeth as she effectively gave him carte blanche to do whatever he wanted and mess up any production or rebuild efforts he felt like. Which meant I was about to get a big headache. First from the yard people claiming he was interfering, quickly followed by indignant rage filled messages from Spalding about how they were attempting to block him.

  Already I could feel a headache building, which was why I quickly changed the subject.

  “Well either way you and I are not exactly normal people. I feel guilty enough as it is that most of the original crew can’t go home. As for the ones that signed on afterwards, they signed up to serve in the Confederation fleet, the actual ‘real’ fleet not this Confederation-lite business Isaak’s dreamed up…” I trailed off. The original crew of the Clover had signed up for a yearlong training cruise as part of a stop gap replacement for the Rim Fleet and I’d later sold them on running around fighting off warlords and protecting the Spine.

  “I don’t see how it matters which Confederation fleet they’re a part of. Especially since you could make joining this new organization contingent on the crews being given back pay, furloughs and the rights to go home anytime they felt like it, without being harassed or under the authority of the local provincial government,” Spalding pointed out. “To my thinking that might actually be better in some ways than if we stuck it out with the Old Confederation.”

  “I think the crew are paid up thanks to Tracto, the trillium mines, and the Border Alliance,” I pointed out.

  “Is it the job of the provinces to pay for a Confederation fleet?” Spalding asked rhetorically. “I say if they want an honest to goodness Confederation fleet, make them pay for it.”

  “You have a point,” I said. I liked the idea of adding onerous conditions and requiring the Sector—or in this case new Confederation—government pay what they should have been funding all along was music to my ears. I was sick to death of provincial governors tearing proverbial strips off my hide demanding to know where my fleet was and what exactly their tax credits were going for, meanwhile I was essentially operating a interstellar charity. “I’m liking this more and more,” I mused as my mouth quirked into a grin.

  “Just be careful they don’t try to hoodwink you out of those ships you brought to Gambit,” Spalding warned wagging a finger at me. “We can let loose a couple of Cruisers or Destroyers if we have to but don’t let them take you in the fine print. The lawyers and politicians will shaft you every time if they get the chance!”

  “There’s no chance of that,” I said, my eyes hardening.

  I heard a shifting in the room and realized I was rambling on and in front of allies that probably didn’t need a direct window int
o my plans and maneuvers. Even if on the surface they had more to lose than they did to gain by exposing my secrets to our enemies.

  “I was curious about the status of those Bug remnants you were researching?” I asked idly, turning to the Droids to change the subject. Was I interested? In an academic fashion I was; they had asked for coordinates and details of the Bug ships that attacked Tracto several years ago and I’d provided the data. Was it that important? Not really. So long as they didn’t bring back the Bug’s bio-engineered terror, I honestly didn’t care what they were up to. Still, it was always wise to follow up with these things.

  “Our studies into the remains of the Bug Mothership proved interesting and we thank you for the opportunity to study a bio-engineered organism,” Bottletop IIV said, and Spalding stiffened.

  I lifted an eyebrow, “I was under the impression that there were lots of genetically engineered organisms.”

  “Yes, all based off of similar genotypes, at least in a broad sense, but the Bug genotype is something else entirely,” Bottletop IIV said happily.

  “Good enough,” I said, and was turning back to Glue when the sound of a clearing voice interrupted me.

  “There’s more to it than that,” Spalding said, peering at the droids through one suspiciously squinted eye.

  “For which part did you require clarification?” Bottletop IIV beeped at the old engineer.

  “The part where when the Admiral asked you about the Bugs you got all concerned,” Spalding declared.

  “Concerned? Hardly,” Bottletop IIV hooted breezily, “excited, surely, after all it is of great academic significance.”

  “That’s why you immediately exchanged encrypted transmissions with your bodyguard? Because of its scientific, not military importance,” Spalding glared at the droids. “I can’t believe that over all your years on the Rim of the Galaxy this is the first time you’ve encountered Bug DNA. Why, I know for a fact it was for sale on the Omicron as lately as when we took over the place.”

  “Why ever would you know that?” I asked the old engineer with surprise and then turned a newly skeptical look on the droids.