Admiral's Throne

Home > Science > Admiral's Throne > Page 33
Admiral's Throne Page 33

by Luke Sky Wachter


  Over the next week, her Swarm was tested, taking serious losses among its scouts and harvesters before finally overcoming the system defenders trying to resist the hive.

  When the first succulent taste of the world her scouts had found reached the eager maw of the Queen was pure bliss.

  Nearly driven mad by the sweet taste of the world below them, the Queen crazily started pumping out more eggs to replace her lost scouts and harvesters even as she drove her Swarm deeper and deeper into its gravity well.

  Soon it would be time to turn her roving Swarm into a full-blown planetary hive!

  When the first harvester crash landed on the surface killing its guiding intelligence and destroying its brooding chambers the canny and wily experienced Bug Queen resisted the siren call of the planet as long as she could and didn’t immediately attempt to land her Mothership.

  But as her spawn began to overrun the world, reproducing in a joyous spasm releasing clutch after clutch into the world and the cry of a new born sub-queen started to interfere with the smooth operation of her Swarm the incensed queen ordered a landing.

  Chapter 42

  Paradise Lost

  “Blast it all! I’m showing stage four bug sign on the planet, Sir,” the Sensor Officer said with a stricken expression.

  “Any radio transmissions?” Tactical asked sharply.

  The Com-Officer looked sick.

  “I’m reading 0.5% of the transmissions I would normally expect to receive from a fully inhabited planetary body of this size,” he reported.

  “Surely, you’d expect there to be lowered transmissions after the bugs took out the orbital satellite array,” argued the First Officer.

  “I would. This is after accounting for satellite array degradation to its current level,” agreed the Com-Officer.

  He swallowed.

  “From monitoring the current com-traffic levels I estimate there are only a few hundred thousand souls left alive on Paradise Lost.”

  There was a long moment of silence as I and the rest of the bridge crew digested that statement.

  “Admiral?” my Chief of Staff looked at me imploringly.

  I evaded her eyes.

  “How advanced is the surface invasion,” I asked steeling myself for an answer I didn’t like.

  “It’s bad, Sir,” my Tactical Officer said gravely.

  “I know it’s bad,” I said irritably, “what I want are specifics.”

  “Specifically… it’s bad enough I doubt we could send in retrieval forces fast enough to evacuate even 5 percent of the survivors before half the remaining survivors had been eaten, Sire,” Tactical said after a moment.

  “You’ve anticipated my next question,” I said keeping my face neutral at this latest blow. I’d become more confident in letting my people see the real me over the years but at times like this it was good to keep your real emotions hidden.

  “We can’t just let them die,” Commander Steiner protested but although she started off strong she ended weak, already sounding like she feared the worst.

  I wonder what that said about her confidence in our fleet and me as her commander.

  “The real question is how many lancers are we willing to risk to save them,” I asked rhetorically.

  “Yes, that is a very good question, Sire,” Tactical said.

  My chief of staff, first officer and several other offers joined him in staring at me expectantly.

  I huffed out a quiet breath. As usual all the hard questions went straight to the top. Then again that’s why they paid me the big bucks.

  Under the weighty gazes of my bridge team I took an irritation filled minute to weigh my options. If I did nothing I looked like an uncaring despot. On the other hand were I to send lancers down to the surface to save people every one of my men’s deaths would be on my head. On yet another hand… Paradise Lost was technically lost to humanity because no one had been able to come with a fleet in time to save her, if we spent a significant amount of time here saving a handful of lives while millions more and another planet was lost could I live with myself?

  I was in the unhappy juxtaposition of several factors none of them at all what I had hoped to be dealing with when I jumped into this star system: a lost world, people being eaten and working under a time crunch.

  “We don’t have a lot of time,” I said finally, “we’ll make one pass, clear out the bugs still in orbit, and drop shuttles. Communications and sensors will have to coordinate with tactical and the lancer departments. We can’t afford to get stuck here but every day we spend is another day we’re not out saving a world that still has a chance to live.”

  “That’s a hard call, Sire. I’m honestly glad you’re the one making it not me,” said my XO.

  I blinked.

  “If you’re hoping for a ship command of your own someday you need to ready yourself to make those kind of calls,” I advised him.

  He nodded seriously.

  “I’m not saying I would not make such a call just that I’m glad you’re here. It’s not easy deciding who lives and who dies, Sire,” he said.

  “You’re right,” I said because it wasn’t. It wasn’t fun at all.

  “How long of a pass are we going make, Sir?” asked DuPont breaking into the conversation.

  I scowled in thought.

  “I’d say as long as it takes our jump spindles to charge back up except they’re already charging for a return to capria,” I said sucking a tooth.

  I waved a hand irritably.

  “Let’s aim for twelve hours but no longer than twenty four. That’ll give us time to wrap things up here and return for a pick up in the outer system,” I decided.

  Someone behind me, a very feminine someone, made a noise of protest.

  I looked back at my chief of staff.

  “Who am I going to leave, Lisa?” I asked quietly, “there are bugs all throughout this system. If I detach a small patrol odds are they’ll be attacked and forced to flee or else be eaten by the bugs. A larger group and why not leave the whole fleet? If I spread us out in too many penny packets it’ll take too long to pick everyone back up if there’s a major threat that needs the whole fleet.”

  “But, Sir, it’s just that, how can we turn our backs and just leave when we’re right here and if we leave they don’t have a chance….” she said sadly.

  “This is not our fault. Not yours. Not mine and definitely not these peoples. No one knew there was someone so maniacal, so evil or so despotic that they wouldn’t take no for an answer and rain down a plague of bugs on billions of innocent people,” I said savagely.

  “This is not our fault people. We’re just here to clean up the mess. We’ll save as many lives along the way as we can but if we’re only able to save a handful of survivors before we move on that’s what we’ll do. Because if we don’t, millions more will die,” I finished coldly.

  “Aye aye, Sir,” my offers chorused around me.

  As our fleet approached the planet a small horde of scouts and scout marauders rose up to meet us. Laser flashed in response and hundreds of scouts fell back into orbit trailing fire as they burned up on reentry.

  After the mass lift off a few more popped up in ones and twos which we easily dealt with. Other than the few bugships here and there and a small harvester that must have got lost and landed on a moon the vast majority of the bugs seemed to have already landed on the planet.

  “Release shuttles,” Shepherd instructed when our fleet reached the appropriate launch point.

  I watched as part of the fleet detached into a series of small task groups mainly a group of destroyers centered around a cruiser, each holding position over a group of shuttles away on a rescue mission while the rest of the fleet continued its stately orbit around the planet.

  Every hour or so a group of shuttles would launch from the shuttle bays of a battleship and a corresponding task group would fall back with them until they entered atmosphere whereupo
n they would take up a geosynchronous holding pattern and provide orbital suppressing fire and cover.

  It sucked but today the MSP arrived too late to save the day.

  “Do you want to initiate an orbital bombardment of the planet?” Tactical asked.

  “And waste any more time?” I asked and shook my head, “no we’re investing enough into this black hole of a star system already. Paradise Lost indeed, this planet is totally and completely lost that’s for sure.”

  “Do we have an exit plan, Sire?” he asked.

  “The sector can deal with it. No one here’s paying them anything they’re all dead, except for the few we’re saving, and can’t care any longer. Let the local star systems pull their heads out of their shells and drop an orbital bombardment or get the Sector Governor to do it for them. Either way we’ll only be back here if and when someone pays us to do it. We’re in the business of saving star systems not cleansing them once they’re already lost,” I paused.

  “Not that I’m morally opposed to coming back and finishing these bugs after the rest of the Bug Campaign is over,” I allowed.

  “That’s cold, Sir,” interjected my First Officer.

  “That’s reality,” I riposted, “we’re here to save the living. Not burn a giant funeral pyre of bugs to mourn the dead.”

  In total we liberated 10,378 citizens of Paradise Lost. I was rather proud that more than half of them were your average Joe-blow and Jane Doe, considering most of the surface transmission were from hardened bunkers built by government or corporate interest.

  Chapter 43

  LeGodat vs. Rear Admiral McCruise

  “It’s good to see you, Colin,” said the uniformed fleet officer after she entered the Confederation Fleet’s rehabilitation facility.

  The man forcing his body to move as he held on tightly with two hands to a pair of metal poles looked up.

  “I see the Fleet has been treating you well in my absence, Synthia,” he said taking in the extra pounds and pointedly looking at her new shoulder boards.

  “Jealousy, Colin? I would have thought you above that sort of thing considering you were placed in charge at Wolf-9 by dint of a few days seniority. I guess it’s true how they say people change,”

  “Yes, they do,” LeGodat said dryly and looked down at the lower half of his body and then back up to the Rear Admiral.

  Synthia McCruise’s lips tightened.

  “No one doubts your sacrifice. Perhaps I was a little harsh,” she said not sounding as if she necessarily agreed with her last statement.

  “Maybe,” Colin LeGodat said working to take another agonizing step.

  Sweating bullets he looked over to see McCruise staring at him with a haunted look her eyes.

  “Don’t worry about me. This is just another price of the service,” Colin LeGodat informed her.

  The haunted look in her eyes disappeared.

  “It’s a risk we all take, Officer Le-Godat,” she said nodding and speaking formally as if to put some distance between her and him.

  “Feeling nervous in the service,” Colin LeGodat asked mouth twisting.

  “I don’t think that’s called for,” she said.

  “You’re probably right,” he said after a moment.

  Neither one spoke for a moment.

  “What do you need, Synthia,” he asked after the silence had grown uncomfortably long.

  She frowned.

  “Do I need a reason to see a man I served alongside for several years?” asked the hatchet faced woman.

  “It’s been two years. I’ve seen lots of officers and crew from my former command come in and out of those halls,” he said jerking a thumb over his shoulder, “but while I heard you came by to visit those first few weeks, this is the first time in the almost two years since I’ve been awake that I’ve seen you for myself,” he said.

  “I did want to visit you at first but I honestly became too busy and then….,” she took a breath, “it has been too long since I came by. You’re right to call me on that,” she said raising a hand to stop any interruptions, “but you’re not wrong when you said I had ulterior motivations. I’m here as, I hope, still a friend but I’m also here in my rear admiral’s hat.”

  “I doubt I can be of much help to, Rear Admiral Synthia McCruise, in my current circumstances but I’m always available for advice and as a sounding board for an old colleague,” Colin LeGodat demurred.

  Synthia McCruise frowned.

  “You’re a good man, Colin. I know how you must feel, all things taken into consideration, but you’re wasting yourself in this place. Why don’t you come serve with me,” she offered.

  He took a breath.

  “Serve with you? Don’t you mean work for you? Besides I was of the understanding I had a good 6 months of rehab left before all the new neural connections in my lower body had been reconnected and I’d built up sufficient muscle tone to get out of this place. I honestly doubt there’s much I could do for you even in a staff position,” he said.

  “You’re not wrong when you say I want you to join my team and that would mean working for me but this is not a strictly mercenary action on my part. I’ve assured that if you agree to cooperate with my command I’ve been told we can cut your rehabilitation time in half or better with top of the line military treatments and you can receive those treatments onboard a starship. To my eyes that’s a win-win-win,” she observed pacing back and forth beside him.

  “No more lounging around in a fleet base body shop and risk being placed back on reserve status after your rehabilitation program is over but a real honest to Murphy fleet assignment,” she said.

  Colin LeGodat’s lips tightened.

  “You mean those top of the line treatments reserved for flag and pennant officers, you know the ones ranked Commodore or above?” he asked derisively, “I’ll be honest I don’t see how much good another Commander will do you, even if they agree to put me back on my feet and give me a ship command of my own, let alone having me work for you as some sort of glorified staff officer, which was never my strength.”

  “I think you underestimate yourself,” McCruise cajoled, “and while I realize a bump to Commander wasn’t what you were expecting after waking up back inside the Confederation after working to hold the line like we did but considering all of Jason Montagne’s appointments, promotions and performance reviews were placed into question, understand, it wasn’t the worst that could have happened.”

  “I don’t know about that but you seem to have done well enough for yourself, Rear Admiral,” he said once again glancing her shoulder boards, “maybe that’s the sour grapes speaking though.”

  Synthia McCruise’s expression flattened

  “I think it is. But I can see how a man used to commanding an entire star system, cut off from higher command for years at a time, might feel that way. I’d hoped you were better than that but waking up from a battle to find your body badly damaged, command dispersed and temporarily elevated rank reduced under a political cloud back home could wear on anyone so, I’ll agree we should let the comment pass,” she said firmly.

  She ran a hand through her hair.

  “Let me put this to you a different way. If you play ball I can guarantee a return to Captain rank and a ship command before our deployment is over and that’s just to start. Play your cards right, if we clean up this mess that I’m looking at and if you’re willing to take a tour in a more administrative post Commodore is not entirely out of the question for you once more,” she said dangling the possibility of both a command, a promotion and possibly a return to his previous rank before him.

  “Play ball? Do you mean like the politicians told me to play ball and manipulate my sworn testimony until white was black and night was day that kind of ball?” he asked curiously.

  “If you’re determined to sit out on your tree all alone, cutting off limbs I can’t stop you,” McCruise said patiently.

  “Because you
know when I refused to do that the first time they busted me back to commander and they denied me top of the line treatments I might have had right from the beginning, I didn’t’ budge,” he continued ignoring her, “what makes you think I’ll suddenly start dancing to their tune now, instead of say giving them an even bigger middle finger than before?” he asked honestly curious.

  “It’s that exact attitude that nearly got the entire Easy Haven command relieved of duty!” McCruise finally lost her cool, “do you know how hard I had to work to keep a lot of good people from committing career suicide? The number of egos I had to stroke and favors I had to trade! And here you are doing your darndest to make things worse.”

  “To what? Save the careers of you and your followers?” he asked dispassionately, “my heart bleeds, Rear Admiral but you seem to be doing fine.”

  “No you stupid ass! I and those you term ‘my followers’ who were part of your command just like the rest of us are doing just fine! It was the rest of the personnel, the ones who wavered or who would have wavered and might have agreed with you, swallowing Jason Montagne’s line, hook, line and sinker straight into mutiny and treason if given half a chance, that I’m worried about,” she shouted.

  “Yelling at a sick man during the middle of his therapy,” said Colin LeGodat, “now there’s the real representation of truth, reason and the Confederation way.”

  “That sort of attitude is exactly why I haven’t come here and restricted access as much as I could,” McCruise said angrily, “just agree to join my command already. Hate me all you want privately and that’s fine. You made command decisions I disagreed with, strongly, but I followed you into the blender and back out again. Now if you would please do me the same courtesy and after you’ve been restored to the your previous rank you can go right back to fighting me, the Fleet or the entire political establishment if that’s what gets you your jollies. But at least give me the same respect I gave you all those years ago in the Spineward Sectors.”

 

‹ Prev