Admiral's Throne

by Luke Sky Wachter

  ***

  “Admiral, despite the many—and I might add, unwelcome—disturbances we just experienced, I would like to thank you for the speedy and timely arrival of your Fleet here to give assistance to us in our hour of great need,” said one of the members of the joint sector conference who wasn’t a sector Governor.

  “And you are?” I asked, neatly sidestepping an open commitment of my people and forces. I intended to help, make no mistake, otherwise I wouldn’t be here, but it was going to cost them. Plenty. Especially after Brentwicks’ little diatribe.

  “Magistrate Trevon McCoy of the Acheron Star System, Sector 22,” the other man said, bowing.

  I decided Magistrate Trevon must be a potent mover and shaker back home if he was important enough to involve himself in our conference here on the mobile governmental headquarters for the Spine.

  That, or he just happened to be here petitioning for relief or assistance when this latest bug blight started to sweep the Spineward sectors. Only time would tell but from the looks of him… yes, he was probably formidable back home.

  Not that I cared really. When it came to formidable men, there weren’t many greater than those of us in this room, at least not in the Spineward Sectors. Outside of the Spine, now that was a whole different kettle of fish. But thankfully, everything I was dealing with right now was internal to this region of space.

  “Greetings, Magistrate,” I said.

  He nodded gravely and then another man, the Governor of Sector 24, stepped forward and my smile wilted.

  “Montagne,” he said gravely.

  “I see you’ve done well for yourself, Manning. A governor that’s quite impressive,” I said gravely.

  “I’ve done better than most,” he agreed, waited a beat and then, “from your crown and announcement here, I see congratulations for you are also in order.”

  “Yes. I’m a King now,” I said, buffing my nails on the uniform jacket I was wearing, before suddenly giving him a penetrating look, “even though it’s not half so formidable a post as you seem to have managed to finagle considering I was in exile up until a few weeks ago, when a representative of the Confederation fleet invited me to this conference, I suppose it will have to do.”

  “Well, yours is a life appointment while mine is merely for a term or two at best, but for the rest…” Manning shot back and then trailed off.

  “What am I not invited?” I asked miming getting up and heading for the door.

  “Oh, tuck it in, Montagne,” he said, rolling his eyes, “that’s not what I meant. We have more important things to do than pamper your ego.”

  “Yes, setting Bentwicks on me as soon as I offered you my respectful greetings made your position on that subject abundantly clear,” I riposted and then shrugged, “and considering your treatment of me so far, maybe I’m ready for a little posturing whether you like it or not. Unless you’re asking me to leave?”

  He shook his head.

  “Look, we both have more important things to worry about than incompetent government workers with delusions of grandeur,” he informed me.

  “Yes. I hear there’s a bug invasion crisscrossing the breadth and width of the Spine. I wonder how that happened?” I said, baring my teeth.

  “You heard right,” the Lead Governor cut back into the conversation, almost as if he was deliberately trying to head me off.

  I gave him a hard look which he did his best to ignore.

  “Let me be blunt,” said Governor Manning retaking control of the conversation from his colleague.

  “I so wish you would,” I snarked.

  He glowered at me.

  “What we need from you is ships, Montagne,” agreed Manning.

  “Ships, ships and more ships, I’m familiar with the tune,” I demurred.

  “Could we please be serious, lives are at stake. Everyone in the Spine needs to pull together or this is going to get a lot rougher than it needs to be,” Governor Manning growled.

  “I don’t see why you need me,” I demurred with steely eyes, “Everyone in the Spine? Remember, I’m still technically in exile beyond the Spine. Besides, you’ve got yourself the all high and mighty Confederation Fleet at your beck and call now. What do you need with a washed-up old failure like myself?”

  There were a series of winces around the room but Manning and the Lead Governor met my gaze unflinchingly.

  “I’d hardly say the Confederation Fleet is at our beck and call,” Manning rejected.

  “As I recall, Fleet protection was part of the price you all negotiated for agreeing to eject me from the Spine after I put everything on the line and staked it all to save all of your skins. Don’t tell me the Grand Assembly has repudiated your agreement with Charles Thomas as easily as you lot repudiated me?” I said, my mouth twisting into a sneer.

  “You’re deliberately overstating things. We have a fleet in the Spine and a detachment in every sector but despite our close cooperation, they’re hardly at our beck and call,” said Manning firmly before changing subjects, “not many here were present when your exile was negotiated. We were informed after the fact. Besides, you knew what was bound to happen when we attacked the Empire. As it is I have to say in all honesty you got off lightly.”

  “Overstating things or not, I’m still a little fuzzy on why exactly you need me. The man you exiled in exchange for peace,” I pointedly reminded him, “between the Confederation Fleet detachments and your own local SDF’s, you should have more have enough ships to deal with a bug Swarm. Meanwhile, I can just go back to my light punishment.”

  “I thought you were briefed by Commodore Hammer,” said the Lead Governor, sounding stressed.

  “I was,” I said.

  “Which means he’s being deliberately obtuse, Governor Van Stryke,” Manning informed the other man.

  The Lead Governor took a breath while Manning rounded on me.

  “If you’ve spent any time monitoring Galactic News, then you’re fully aware that most of the worlds in our sectors have experienced a build-down in their System Defense Forces as we’ve all struggled to rebuild lost trade routes and shattered orbital industries, in the wake of our reintegration into the larger galactic community,” said Manning.

  “Galactic News is overrated and filled with fake news. I fail to see why anyone would do something as foolish as that,” I said, crossing my arms.

  “Yes, and if you’d been here, I’m sure you would have advised against it but unlike just about everyone else present, except for you, none of us was even in the room when the deal was made that saw you exiled from the Spine,” Manning growled, “so you’ll have to forgive us for not consulting you. Seeing as how you were exiled and thus unavailable at the time!”

  “Don’t delude yourself; I was hardly unavailable,” I scoffed, “all you had to do was send a courier or—here’s a news flash—come in person. So can I forgive you, yes. Yes I can. As you point out, I’ve had nothing to do with the Spine of late and you all decided to continue muddling along without me. But risk the lives of my warships crews for a bunch of grasshoppers who fiddled freely while the winter snow came until the bill came due? Now why in the galaxy would I do that?” I snapped.

  “Then what the blazes did you show up for?” demanded Manning, voice rising.

  “Maybe just so I could spit in your eye? You think I negotiated myself into exile? It was handed to me. Why? Maybe because I was the only one in this room who bothered showing up to the party! Where were you? Where were any of you?” I flared, leaning forward until I was in his personal space.

  “I can’t speak for anyone else but my fleet was en route! Maybe we would have been there before it was all over but the ratifying of the agreement if you’d sent us more than a series of junk files as a diversionary tactic to throw the Empire off your scent,” Manning barked.

  “I didn’t have time to see which way you’d jump. Better to let you continue to sit there outside Aegis twiddling your th
umbs, than to wonder if you’d be forced to support yet another group of trigger-happy mutineers unhappy with the chain of command and stab me in the back!” I shot back with equal heat.

  “Yes, and we can all see how well that worked out for you,” Manning said, proceeding to slow clap.

  I made a sharp dismissive gesture.

  “You’ve got home rule and the right to self-determination,” I sneered, “as usual, I took it on the chin to ensure your life, liberty and freedoms. You can mock me for that while eating your cheese and cake all you want, but I didn’t come here to be insulted about my dancing ability when I was the only one who actually showed up to the party. You wanted me to be the one to invite you? You were the top New Confederation military commander at the time, Manning! If your government was being held hostage by a foreign power, then by all the hoary space gods you should have done whatever it took to free them, if you had to beg, borrow, steal, kill or crawl. Saint Murphy knows I had to do enough of that back when I was in charge.”

  He became so angry, his face turned purple.

  “I think we’re going to have to agree to disagree about exactly who did or did not do what when things went down, and simply deal,” Manning bit out.

  For a moment, we stood glaring at each other.

  Then Governor Van Stryke cleared his throat.

  “Please step back, Governor Manning. We did not ask Admiral, now King, Montagne to come here in order to refight old battles. We need to put aside the past if we are to forge a brighter future for us all and to be honest, we have more than enough to manage right now this very moment. Things are grim enough without more infighting,” he said firmly.

  His mouth twisting, Manning turned away abruptly and took several steps to return to his position among the rest of the sector governors.

  I had just enough time for the corners of my mouth to turn up at finally seeing Manning rebuked by someone other than myself for his questionable behaviors, before the politician turned to me.

  “As for you, Admiral. Are you willing to assist us in our time of need or not? If not, then you might as well leave and save us all some time, for today we face arguably the greatest threat to the Spineward Sectors,” said Van Stryke.

  I felt a flash of anger. When had I ever failed to help the people of the Spineward Sectors? And what were these bugs next to the droid invasion I’d stopped cold, or the Empire?

  Remembering the number of times I had been left on the side of the road by Sector Politicians and my resolution not to be taken advantage of again strengthened.

  Governor Van Stryke was right to be concerned, even if there was little to no evidence in any of my past actions that would lead a person to such a conclusion. Or maybe I was just being arrogant.

  Either way…

  “Convince me,” I challenged. “I wouldn’t have come here if there was no way I could see myself as willing to help,” I said finally.

  The Governor frowned; this was clearly a far lesser and much more equivocal an answer than he’d hoped for, but too bad, he was just going to have to learn how to deal.

  “I see,” he said flatly.

  Finally motioning to one of his aides, he leaned over to speak with the man. A minute later, the aide hurried out of the room and when he returned, the aide was carrying a sheaf of flimsies with Commodore Hammer at his side.

  “Admiral I’m glad you decided to join us after all,” she said, her expression pleasantly professional.

  I kept my expression clear. I was still not pleased at the way she felt free to guilt me into taking action but when I turned the tables on her, she balked. But that was the nature of the beast and there was one appropriate reply that immediately sprang to mind.

  “Leonora, it’s a pleasure to see you as always. Have you thought about my offer?” I asked pleasantly. Turn-about was fair play in my opinion, I thought, giving her a bland look.

  She stiffened.

  “I’m afraid my duty to the Confederation precludes me from accepting your offer at this time,” she said a hint of rebuke in her voice.

  My eyebrows rose.

  “Precludes? I would have thought it a small price to pay… considering what you asked of me,” I said.

  “I appreciate your position, Sir. However, what you ask is not as simple as you try to make it out,” she said calmly.

  “It seems simple to me. You have the opportunity to put your life on the line for the people you have sworn to protect in a way that increases their chances of survival,” I said, working to ensure the rebuke I was feeling did not enter my voice.

  Her nostrils flared.

  “As you are well aware, I am already risking my life for the people of the Spine. What you ask is something different. Frankly, it is not as easy for me to change loyalties as it was for you; as much as I love the people of the Spine and am willing to die for them, I have a higher calling and when I swear an oath, I keep it,” she said flatly.

  Clearly, even my former underlings felt free to speak out of both sides of their mouths and then criticize me to my face. It looked like I’d been too lax and easygoing in the past.

  “I understand your position even if it seems a tad hypocritical considering what you’ve have asked of me, but no matter,” I said, waving the issue away instead of giving any one of half a dozen blistering retorts I could have gone with. As always, it was Jason Montagne who was expected to upend his life and sacrifice his blood, sweat and treasure while everyone else got to go about their merry business.

  “I didn’t expect you to understand. But unless my answer is a dealbreaker, could we please get down to the business at hand,” she said, her face and entire body stiff with tension.

  “Let’s,” I agreed although I didn’t think she was going to like my new negotiating position now that she had taken my first offer off the table.

  It was time I saw how much blood I could squeeze out of this turnip. She felt she owed a duty to the Confederation at large that superseded anything she owed to the Spineward Sectors, fair enough. But now that I was King, I had responsibilities too and being an Exile, any duty I felt toward the Spine had to come second.

  “I’m glad that’s settled,” Lead Governor Van Stryke cut in, giving me and Commodore Hammer an uneasy look even as he tried to smooth the waters and play peacemaker.

  When she nodded and I shrugged, he looked relieved.

  “The sad truth is, we need your starships, Admiral. The Confederation will in all likelihood send more ships to reinforce us but that could take weeks or, given the current Speaker and Grand Assembly’s firm stance on any unneeded military buildup, more likely months and by that time, countless worlds will have been lost before they can relieve us,” he splayed his hands helplessly.

  “My own analysts put the actual number at something like at least a dozen and upward of thirty worlds but I suppose that’s entirely beside the point and this is where I come in,” I said, unable to suppress a dig at that ‘countless’ argument.

  “You suppose correctly,” he agreed with a sigh, “Even though I don’t like to say it, I need to be clear that despite our region’s semi-autonomous, self-governing, status, I cannot simply remove your state of exile with a wave of my hand,” the Lead Governor said grimly.

  I waved a hand, dismissing the charge.

  “I don’t see why that’s a problem. It was the Empire that exiled me, not the Confederation. While individual member worlds of the Confederation have the ability to exile its local citizens from their star systems, the Confederation at large has no such power and as any Sector Judge can tell you, without a legal process in place for repatriation, the Confederation constitution will not allow an indefinite…” I brought myself to a halt at the sight of the Lead Governor’s long face and shaking head.

  “Your Exile from Confederation space was a provision ratified by treaty with the Confederation and Empire as signatories. The same treaty that returned the Spine to the Empire and conferred Semi-Aut
onomous status on our region of space also stipulated your exile as one of the terms,” the Governor said unhappily, “not only do treaties with foreign powers carry the weight of Confederation law but well… to contest any portion of the treaty is to risk endangering the whole.”

  “Including the Spineward Sector’s status as a semi-autonomous status, self-governing region,” I said, lifting an eyebrow.

  “We’re skirting the law as much as we dare just having you here on a temporary basis. Thankfully, Commodore Hammer acted on her own initiative inviting you here or we’d be facing some serious blowback,” the Lead Governor said with a helpless shrug before hastily adding, “not that we are not overjoyed that the hero of the rebellion and his fleet of mighty warships have once again returned to arrive in our hour of need.”

  “I’m a hero of the rebellion and this is all that you dare say,” I said, giving the assembled governors a disappointed look at this latest bit of mealy mouthed prattle. Despite outward shows of regret and unwillingness no one in this room was really and actively unhappy that I—and by extension the men and women of my fleet who had fought and died to preserve their lives, liberty and ability to continue to pursue happiness—still languished in a state of exile.

  “I hope you can understand our position, Sir,” interjected yet another Sector Governor, “we’re just trying to do the best we can by the people who elected us.”

  “Including doing our darndest to keep them from being eaten, even if it requires skirting the letter of the law,” nodded another Governor.

  “When you need help, then aren’t I grand but when I need a hand, where’d you go,” I muttered under my breath.

  “I beg your pardon?” the Lead Governor said with a politely fixed smile.

  “Nothing,” I replied, waggling my fingers to wave the matter off, “in fact, I was just about to say that I understand your position entirely. In a way, this comes as a relief as you see I was about to clarify that today, I will not be attending these negotiations as Admiral Montagne of the MSP, hero of the rebellion but instead in my official capacity as the King of Capria, Protector of Messene and Grand Admiral of the Tractoan System Defense Force,” I replied.