by Jim Rudnick
The Council room exploded again as almost everyone tried to speak at once.
"That can't be. They are reported as being healthy and virile ..." the Quaran alien said.
"Not possible," the UrPoPo member screamed, "we are all susceptible ..."
The translator PDA in the center of the table squawked with the DenKoss language that sounded so much like watery bubbles.
The Takan member just rolled up into a ball on his chair, like a porcupine.
The banging of the gavel went on and on as the Chairman struck the table over and over. Eventually everyone quieted.
"I take it, Captain, that the virus was news to you—and yet you left your mission post off Novertag and came here directly to tell us this? Only this, Captain?" he said.
Tanner knew that the Chairman was the smartest one in the room, and he again half-bowed to the Chairman, one of the Royals from Alex’n. "Aye, Chairman ... there is more. One more major thing. That virus did not affect them at all—except it made them live longer—we've named it the Longevity virus. The crew on the ship are already 200-plus years old and they're not even in middle age."
With that, Tanner slumped and would have fallen if not for the sudden grasp of his XO, and again the room exploded. The banging of the gavel again pierced his inflamed , and he closed his eyes tightly hating Scotch severely all of a sudden.
"Chief Provost, seal the room. We will take a short recess and reconvene in about thirty minutes."
The various Council Members got up and immediately began to lobby for their own worlds, some grouping around the Baroness, others around the Duke, and still others moved among the chairs talking and arguing their own point of view.
After almost half an hour, the admiral came over to sit with Tanner who'd been moved to just behind the Garnuthian member. Tanner sat up straighter as he tried to look like he was passable.
"Captain, it was not unnoticed by me that you're two sheets to the wind. My office as soon as this is over ... these are grounds for Dereliction of Duty for what you've just done, Captain. I am not impressed."
Tanner dipped his head and said nothing—there was nothing to say.
But his XO would not hear of it.
"Admiral, with all due respect, we had to leave to get this news to the Council before anyone else found out. I hope you realize that we left Captain Siegel of the Nugent in charge, and he's more than happy, Sir ...and this is without precedent, Sir."
The admiral nodded.
"Noted, Lieutenant Commander Templeton; however, I expect you in my offices within minutes of the end of this meeting. No equivocation, understood?" he added and received a "yes, Sir" in response.
The gavel again ended the short recess, and the Council members took their seats again. The Chairman looked around the table.
"While the news is astounding, and yes, we are all beholden to Captain Scott for his belief that this was important enough to bring directly to the Council, we must still decide on a course of action—"
He was interrupted by the Baroness once again. "Chairman, you do remember—"
The Chairman held up his hand to silence her, and Tanner knew that he was one of the only people on the RIM who could do that.
The Chairman continued, "Yes, Baroness, I do remember that you have already sent your own health teams and labs and robo-doctors to the alien ship location. And yes, we all remember that your offer of Throth is still one of the two offers that we will be making to the Ikarians. Which of these we all want to be successful is not important as it is the aliens who will decide—that is what living out here on RIM is all about, may I remind you," he said, and some of the sudden muttering ceased. "Whichever offer the Ikarians accept will depend, I would now think, on how they value what your two realms offer. Do I hear a motion then to keep the offers of Throth by the Barony and the Novertag Yassuk continent both to be presented to them?" he said.
The Ttseen member's hand was quickly raised. The Chairman looked around for a secondhand, and the change to the alien offer was quickly passed.
"One more thing, Chairman," the Duke d'Avigdor said as he rose to speak to the Council, his back straight and his head held high.
"It is also apparent that for Captain Scott to have taken it upon himself to leave his duty post and mission off Novertag with the aliens and to come here, this might put the Captain perhaps in jeopardy with the Navy itself, as some might say he has disobeyed his orders."
"So, Chairman, could we ask the admiral who is the head of our RIM Navy to ensure for us—the Council, who yes is indebted to the Captain—that no such charges would ever be laid against the Captain?" he said and then sat.
Tanner looked as they all did to the admiral who sat and stared back with a look of doggedness on his face at everyone. The Chairman looked back at him and nodded his agreement.
"Council Members, the dereliction of duty is a serious issue for the core of the Navy ... we are built on the assumption that orders are orders ... something that is at the core of this issue," he said as the Duke once again rose to his feet, but he held out his hand to stop the interruption. "However, yes, in this case, I too now agree with the Duke and can promise the Council that there will be no Navy repercussions about this latest action by Captain Scott. My word, Chairman, is what I offer," he said and then he sat too ... fuming ... but he sat.
Tanner slumped even farther into the stiff chair and then passed out completely as around him the Council meeting broke up. The members again clumped into smaller groups for discussion and lobbying. Only the Baroness still sat and stared at the Captain, and the look, the XO observed, was of great interest and what he thought was some kind of study of his captain.
#
"After you, um, you fell asleep due to your injury aboard the Marwick, we carried on, Captain. Even though I was hamstrung by what was obviously a favor from the Duke d'Avigdor, I cannot, as I gave my word to the Council, lay any punishment at your feet. Do you understand that at least, Captain?" Admiral McQueen said flatly.
Standing at attention in the admiral's office, Tanner was in a full hangover sweat but simply said, "yes, Sir" loudly and maintained his frozen stance.
He had awoken less than an hour earlier, when his steward had to enter his quarters to awaken him suddenly to come to Navy Hall immediately. His meeting with the admiral was scheduled for almost two hours hence, so in his mind this was punishment enough. He nodded to his boss to emphasize that he agreed with the assessment.
Less than a year ago, in a hunting trip to Anulet as the guest of the Duke, he'd had the misfortune to be attacked by a Jael, the wild bearlike creature that was the day's quarry. The Duke had gunned down that monster before it had done much more than breaking Tanner's leg and worrying the flesh of his calf.
But to the two hunters’ surprise, the Jael had a mate who then attacked from their rear, and Tanner had been able to fire just once to save the Duke's life. And it appeared that yesterday's Council meeting request by the Duke to spare Tanner any retribution to his leaving his post was payback.
"So, Captain, what else was discussed, argued, and then developed was at the Council direction. The Barony will continue to be in charge of the aliens here within the RIM," McQueen said matter-of-factly.
"Sir?" Tanner said with no idea of what that meant.
"Captain, the Baroness has offered up Throth—one of the worlds of their realm that has no sentient life—to the aliens. She is shipping down full medical labs, health care specialists, and our best robo-doctor technology and absorbing all costs. She will offer up the world that they wish ... the sudden implications of the longevity virus notwithstanding. On that matter, the Council is firmly at odds—no one has agreed on anything. So now you know, Captain ... comments?" McQueen said with his eyes locked on the sweating man in front of him.
"Sir, yes, Sir," Tanner said. "Might I ask, Sir, what you want us to do? The Marwick I mean, Sir?" he said, his voice loud enough to make his temples pulse. The hangover pills he'd swallowed dry in
the Jeep over to Navy Hall had obviously not kicked in yet. He felt like hell warmed over. Still, what his future assignment would be was worth knowing although prolonging this torture-at-attention was something he hoped he'd never have to do again.
"Thought about that last night for a bit and even this morning, Captain, and there were many ideas. Thought of sending you to Throth, to await the aliens, but that's probably months away, and I felt I couldn't abuse your crew for your mistakes. Also, I considered putting you back off Novertag under the command of Captain Siegel of the Nugent, but that would take you off the hook completely with no accountability because of reduced authority. So I've changed that slightly, and I expect that these orders will be carried out without questions or any equivocations, Captain," McQueen said as he stood up from behind his desk to be at Tanner's eye level. Holding out his hand, he pointed directly at Tanner's chest and jabbed his finger at him with each sentence.
"You and the Marwick are to return to the alien incursion space off Novertag to resume control of the situation."
He jabbed that finger again.
"You will maintain the current level of command over all Navy and RIM member factions therein. I am moving the Nugent under Captain Siegel to stand off of Faraway with these delicate labor negotiations for the trade pacts immediately, so you're the power there in charge."
Again, the finger jabbed at Tanner.
"You will allow the Barony to run their complete physical-slash-lab-slash-healthcare operations that they offered and were accepted by the RIM Council. You will NOT allow anything further ... no testing anything to do with the virus, especially!"
Once more, the finger jabbed.
"And the Lady St. August has been appointed to head the Barony negotiations for Throth with the aliens. You are to attend as the ranking Navy officer, but you are to observe and not to interfere. You are the 'diplomat' in the room, Captain, and judging by the feelings between you and the Lady, you will be reminded of that in spades!"
The finger stopped jabbing and remained pointing at Tanner.
"No allowances for anything but following these orders—and this time I will not be handcuffed by the Council. Got it, Captain?"
Much was running through Tanner's head, but the thing that really stood out from the rest was the fact that he had to be the babysitter to the Lady St. August ... that just had to a bad omen.
"Sir, a captain never questions any order, Sir, but the expectation that I can provide some diplomatic aid to the Lady St. August in her Throth offer ... Sir, that sounds like something I don't think anyone who knows the Barony could expect. Sir. Sorry Sir..." he trailed off.
The admiral stared at Tanner and said not a word, but that finger continued to just point at the perspiring man in front of him.
"Sir, please understand. I can do my duty, Sir. While it's probably not the time or place to argue that my leaving my post to bring the news of the longevity virus to the Council has helped me or the Marwick in any way, Sir—the Lady St. August is the issue, Sir." His sweating had stopped. Instead he was now cold, and the force of trying to stop his muscles from their quivering and outright shaking was almost more than he could handle.
"And that's exactly why I'm assigning you to this duty, Captain. You will either succeed, or you will fail and that would include somehow the loss of this longevity virus to the RIM Confederacy. I can think of no more important issue facing us—and you're the Navy officer in charge. You will either succeed or you will fail ... and a reminder, Captain, there is nothing outward from the RIM. Your choice, Captain," the admiral said as he sat down into his big chair, looked down at his papers, and waved his arm toward his office door.
"Dismissed. See the port master as I've some specialized supplies for you to take along, and head out by lunchtime," he said as he picked up a folio and began to leaf through looking for something.
Tanner swung around still at attention and marched quickstep to the door and out of Navy Hall minutes later. His head felt swollen, his eyes burned, and that wound he'd received when he had fallen down and banged his head against the edge of his bunk still throbbed. If he didn't quite plant his feet so solidly, he found that the walkway to the street was at least traversable, and he mounted the Jeep stiffly.
He would have instructed his driver not to go quite so quickly back to the landing port, but he didn't want his driver to know he still wasn’t feeling well. When he almost fell out of the side of the Jeep as the corporal wheeled the Jeep with speed and cut someone off in a roundabout, he hoped he would make it back without throwing up. Motoring quickly, the corporal deposited his passenger at the bottom of the Marwick landing ramp and saluted before speeding off again.
Mounting the escalator to the top of the boarding ramp, Tanner made his way slowly to the lift up to Deck Twenty-three and his quarters. There, he simply used his PDA to tell the XO they'd been ordered back to Novertag to resume command and to see the port master for special supplies before they left. Then he fell face first onto his bunk to sleep it off. Only a hint of the taste of Scotch made him shudder, and he put that desire off until tomorrow and was snoring within minutes, and visions of the Lady St. August danced in his head.
#
"Helena, don't be a complete ass, dear ... this is far, far beyond your petty displeasure of one of the minor players in this—this is the single most important thing you'll ever do—even more than helping those poor hostages back a year ago, my dear," the Baroness said and then turned away from the console for a moment.
The Lady St. August nodded. Nodding was all she could manage at this point, as once again, she was being forced into complying with the choices of others.
Yes, a year ago, the Master Adept of the Issians had cooked up the plan to help rescue the hostages, and yes, it had included working with this Scott drunkard. The fact that all of the circumstantial evidence pointed at her stepmother as the real power behind those Pirates was of no use to her now. With the crash of those Pirates into the ITO mines killing all aboard, as well as whomever might have been below, ended any detective work into the real powers behind their operation.
And now again, she thought, I will have to work with this captain ... the poorest excuse for a starship captain that had ever existed ...but at least—at the very least I am the Barony person in charge on the scene. He will bow to my rule and that she would ensure...
"Baroness ... Ma’am?" she said as the console monitor in front of her suddenly filled with the leader of the Barony realm. She noticed that her stepmother was chewing something so she waited. Yes, there was the swallow and a waving hand.
"Sorry, my dear, I'm just testing the samples from the Chef. Our Annual Realm Dinner is in a few days, and the recipes are so ... so ... un-interesting so far. I wonder if these aliens will have something to add to that menu next year when they're a part of the Barony," she finished off noisily as she gulped down something to help her swallow. "Never. That was worse than Garnuthian clam innards," she said to someone off screen.
She then turned back to the matter at hand and acknowledged Helena’s presence again. "I am sending along the destroyer the Gibraltar, under Captain Vennamo, at full speed, Helena, so expect them in eighteen or so days. She will be under your orders, but a small item to remember, Eleanor Vennamo is what any of us, man or woman, would call a 'by-the-book-bitch,' and she is under strict orders to report back to me as she sees fit. She is my observer in your negotiations with these aliens for Throth; she is not to interfere unless certain conditions occur—those being your failure to get the aliens to accept Throth as their new world," she said, her eyes locked on her stepdaughter’s.
"You will also learn—as we have just learned, that the aliens carry a virus—one which we have dubbed the 'longevity virus,' as it appears that they all have doubled or maybe even tripled their lifespans due to those comet strikes—"
"But how did you ... oh. Captain Scott, I presume?" Helena spat out and shook her head.
"Yes, he showed up at yesterd
ay's RIM Council meeting, broke in, in fact, and even though I suspect he had the worst hangover ever, he presented to us all that the aliens had let slip—I believe he phrased it that way—that they have as yet, no idea as to how long they will live. I believe you can imagine what that did to the Council meeting ..."
Helena nodded. It was not hard at all, and she wondered if the Council Members had stopped arguing and fighting over this yet.
"So, as you will understand, that changes nothing. No one else has a world like ours to offer—yes, I know there's still that half-baked arid planet over near Faraway, but that's not like Throth. Your job is to sell Throth, and that's all you need to do. I will make myself available, of course, for a streaming presentation if you think it necessary. Sell Throth—that's your job and your only job," she said and leaned back in her chair in the Baronial palace more than sixty-five light-years away.
Then she smiled, Helena noted, for the first time during this EYES ONLY.
"No mention of this longevity virus to anyone on the scene. The aliens, of course, know, as does Captain Scott—but no one else is to know. Our mission is to offer the aliens Throth, and we are going to pick up all the costs for that ... our payback may well be that longevity virus ... but that is our future, not now, understood?"
"Oh, as well," the Baroness added, "I'm also sending along one of our better Adept Officers too. Lieutenant Commander Coriander will also be aboard, and she is to help you if she can. Questions, Helena?" she finished off and again half-turned away.
“Great,” Helena said to herself, “the bitch in china blue and an Adept that Gillian said was rife with issues, knowing her to be stone-faced, and she'd be watching over me too.” She shook her head.
"So, let us re-cap shall we, dear?" the Baroness said.
"You are to negotiate with the aliens—offer them Throth. Offer them transport in the Gibraltar, say in three cohorts, as the destroyer can handle only about 3,000 passengers, I believe, at once. Offer them a full seat on our Realm Council, as long as they admit that they will be under our rule. Lastly, make no mention at all of this longevity virus. No mention—when they're a part of the Barony is when that will all happen—and not ‘til then. Understood, Helena, is that clear?" she said, her voice as crisp as steel.