The man was either cleverer than I thought in using verbal jiu-jitsu to turn my own actions against me, or else he was finally losing his nerve and trying to be a suck up…but I had to admit that he had a point. Under my leadership, the MSP had exuded a decided ‘can-do’ attitude from the top-down, and it seemed my actions had spawned some unforeseen consequences further down the chain of command.
“I suppose I can’t castigate you for a failing which I, myself, have been found guilty,” I finally allowed. All the while I was mulling over the apparently very real notion that maybe when they talked about three different droid tribes, there really were some actual differences between the mechanicals. There even seemed to be enough difference between them that they could be turned against one another if the situation was right. This idea would definitely bear further thought…I mused silently.
“Failing, sir?” Middleton asked with a cocked eyebrow. “If you hadn’t done that I wouldn’t be here today. I, and those under my command, can only hope to emulate your forthright approach—“
“Enough, Captain,” I waved him off. I needed his tongue polishing my backside like I needed a blaster to the head, “How about the rest of the high points—if they can be called such?”
“Yes, Admiral,” Middleton said with a brief, confused look before taking the data slate and opening the report, which he proffered for my perusal. “That should cover the second tier of events.”
I scanned the report, which included a handful of more engagements with pirate vessels—including one in which Captain Middleton had employed an antiquated missile platform known as ‘Starfire’ missiles to disable half of an enemy flotilla. He then, with the help of a nearby SDF force, captured a pair of Destroyers while chasing off a third destroyer and surviving pair of Corvettes.
“I’ve got to hand it to you, Middleton,” I grudged, “you take the ‘go big or go home’ philosophy to a new level. I don’t know if I should suspend you or promote you." Although personally I’d much prefer to give him a verbal reprimand and a thankless job to occupy his time. Perhaps running a trillium mine and overseeing Belters in Tracto’s recovering space mining industry?
I gave a reluctant sigh. Whatever else he was, the man was clearly competent and the number of competent officers—let alone Captains—I had in my organization could be numbered on one hand. I’d make him my Flag Captain just to make sure he didn’t go haring off again, except that might look too much like I was condoning the destruction of surrendered vessels. Or worse, it could appear that I had actually given the orders to fire on such a vessel personally.
No, I couldn’t afford to work that closely with the man, even if it would have been the perfect reward for turning a one month cruise into a one year odyssey.
“Just following your lead, Admiral,” the other man said evenly, and I couldn’t tell if he was mocking me or genuine in his espoused sentiment. He bit his lip for a few moments, clearly torn as to whether he should say something.
“What is it, Captain?” I asked, hoping against hope that he hadn’t ‘accidentally’ set a Core World’s primary to supernova before beating feet—and the ensuing shockwave.
“It’s my wife, sir,” he said after a lengthy pause and I had to fight an inappropriate chuckle.
“I hear that,” I eventually sighed in agreement, recalling the myriad times Akantha had stuck my feet in the coals without so much as a warning she was doing it. “Can’t live with ‘em, can’t out-maneuver ‘em because they’ve been genetically designed to be better than you at pretty much everything you’d like to think you’re good at.”
“Sir?” Middleton asked with a worried look.
“Nothing, Captain,” I said with a dismissive wave of my hand. “You were saying?”
“Actually, I meant to say ‘ex-wife,’ sir,” Captain Middleton corrected. “I was hoping I could get you to make a ruling on what to do with her; I’m afraid my own judgment is compromised when it comes to the subject. Her particular case is covered in the final addendum.”
I flipped to the indicated addendum and read through it, soaking up the pertinent details, as well as the visual log of her entry onto the bridge of his ship just prior to the transmission which essentially saved the Pride of Prometheus from certain destruction.
I thought long and hard about the matter, but the truth was I could see why he was in such a quandary. The woman had probably been secretly sending transmissions to a group which, according to the MSP’s best information at the time, was overtly hostile to humanity in general if not her specifically. But if her word was to be believed—always a stretch with ex-wives, or so I’d been told—then she had actually been sending a message that had actually been helpful to our organization. It had saved me a medium cruiser from destruction at the very least.
“I’d like to step in on this, Middleton, I really would,” I lied through my teeth, yet again grateful for my years of training in the field of double speak, “but I’m afraid my hands are tied.”
“Sir?” Middleton asked warily, clearly bracing himself for the worst and I could tell that despite whatever he said or thought he thought about the matter, the man didn’t want his ex-wife to be executed for a spy.
I paused in contemplation. It’s not like I could really cast too many stones; my own First Officer had been both a traitor and spy, yet I’d knowingly kept him onboard my ship—and in the second most powerful position in the chain of command! I’d even gotten married and then had my wife living in my quarters with me while advising me on the bridge during battle. Plus, if I was going to keep this officer, I needed a way to bind him closely to me…
“Yes, well, you see,” I said dramatically as I picked up a data slate of my own and flipped it through the air into his lap, “it seems the MSP is now woefully short on trained officers—including medical personnel of any stripe. Meanwhile your ship has not one, but two qualified doctors on staff. I was going to inform you of this after the meeting,” I gestured to the data slate, glad to finally be skirting the edges of truth as I continued, “you see I’ve already decided to reassign Doctor…”
I drew a blank, having failed to actually check his personnel logs, so I called the roster up on my console and scrolled down until I found it. “Ah, yes, ‘Doctor Cho’ is reassigned to the fleet’s general personnel pool, effective immediately. With the general dearth of qualified officers and the influx of pirate hulls in need of officers and crew, I’m afraid I simply I can’t afford to reassign another Chief Medical Officer to your ship at this time. I’m not entirely sure what to do about your ex-wife, other than to order her confined to her quarters except when directly authorized by Captain for interrogations or, say, the performance of duties vital to the survival of the ship that can’t be carried out by any other member of the crew. Needless to say, she’ll need to be monitored by that tricky technician and escorted by armed Lancers wherever she goes,” I said with a false sigh of disappointment. “So you’re just going to have to get creative in this matter.”
Captain Middleton breathed a sigh of obvious relief. “Thank you, Admiral,” he said with feeling as he briefly bowed his head, “I’m sure I can come up with a solution.”
“Good man, Middleton,” I said evenly, certain he would be far less receptive to my next overture, although in truth I wasn’t sure what he was thanking me for. I’d just put his career in the hands of his ex-wife and neatly insulated myself by ordering her confined to quarters, “In fact, I’m afraid I’m going to have to raid your entire chain of command to crew our newly-repaired ships.”
“Admiral?” the Captain asked in surprise before he visibly set his jaw and forced himself to relax. “What exactly are you after?”
“Everything,” I said, waving my hand at the data slate I had given him, “as you can see there, a roster that amounted to ‘woefully inadequate’ across the board would be a vast improvement from our current status when it comes to experienced officers. Your crew’s been out on active duty for over half a year, which
is more than can be said of just about any other crew in this fleet,” I said pointedly as he made to protest, “and I’m going to need several of your highest-ranking officers to transfer to new postings immediately—just like Doctor Cho.”
“Admiral,” Middleton began, taking in deep, measured breaths, “I lost half my original crew three weeks into the tour, and just a few weeks ago I lost a quarter of the barely-trained crew we’d built back up to—including the only other officers with more service time than myself. I’ve got a crew full of kids over there,” he jerked his thumb over his shoulder sharply. “It’s like herding cats as it is,” he exclaimed before belatedly adding, “sir!”
“I’m going to ignore the thinly-veiled dig at my age,” I said, leaning forward and threading my voice with iron, “and chalk that little outburst up to battle fatigue, Captain.”
Middleton opened his mouth to reply, but snapped it closed before saying anything and fixing me with a hard look that I frankly hadn’t expected from the man. He looked nothing like the man I had sent out on patrol six months earlier…but then, I suppose he would have said the same of me.
“You’re the Admiral,” Captain Middleton said stiffly, “but I’ve got a short list of essential personnel I’m going to need to keep.”
“I’ll take your requests under advisement, and on a case-by-case basis, Captain,” I said coldly. “But the needs of the fleet come before your own personal comfort level.”
“I’m only thinking about my mission, Admiral,” the other man replied evenly, and his tone suggested that he actually meant it. “My ship’s a rusted out, underpowered relic of a bygone era; I’ll need my Chief Engineer, my technician, my Lancer Sergeant—along with his top people, who are already specializing into mission-specific units to better deal with the droids—and my new XO.”
“If your Lancers have experience against the droids, then they’re near the top of my transfer list,” I countered easily. “That kind of intel and training needs to be disseminated immediately.”
“I specifically told you about their tactics and training, Admiral,” he shot back, “when I could have kept silent on the matter. I’m willing to let you have all but the three primaries he’s designated as essential to the unit, as well as a handful of former Lancers who are no longer combat-ready due to injuries sustained in the line of duty. They can impart what my people have learned throughout the fleet—seeing as I’ve already ordered them to be ready to do so,” he added in a hard voice. “But I will need fresh bodies to fill my ship’s complement afterward.”
It was a reasonable concession, so I nodded in approval. “That part can be arranged painlessly enough,” I agreed, since there was now an essentially unlimited number of available Tracto-an crew on my wife’s planet. “So long as your Sergeant doesn’t carry some bigoted attitude toward Tracto-ans,” I added with a knowing look.
“That won’t be a problem, sir,” Middleton replied confidently, meeting my look with an unyielding one of his own.
“Good,” I said then my voice grew hard as space rock, “however I’d think twice and three times before telling your superior and the commanding officer of the MSP what he can and cannot do, if I were you. Balk at my orders and you might or might not find yourself reassigned, but if I find you hiding information from me to better your own position at the expense of the rest of the MSP, you’ll find yourself short a head or breaking rocks on a penal colony on Tracto. Do we understand each other, Captain?! You’re not out on patrol any longer, mister; you’re a part of something a lot bigger than one man or one ship or even one Sector and this is the home office. Do I make myself clear, Lieutenant Commander?”
“Crystal, sir,” he bit out.
“Now, is there anything that suddenly leaps to mind that you feel the urge to tell me about your extended pleasure cruise?” I demanded.
“No, Sir, Admiral. Like I said, it’s all there in the report,” he snapped, “and I resent the characterization! People died out there in the black from pirates and droids and bio-weapons, and to call it a pleasure cruise is beyond the pale…sir!”
“Finally, some fire,” I exclaimed, meeting him glare for glare. “Alright, I believe you.”
Middleton opened his mouth, emotion still on his face but I cut him off.
“Take the win and move past it, Captain,” I growled, “I’m sure you don’t want to say whatever’s burning a hole on the tip of your tongue.
The other man looked like he had an acute case of indigestion but he actually didn’t explode on me. Which was why I felt compelled to grudgingly change the subject at the same time.
“Now, before we got sidetracked with this other issue, we were talking about crew. I’ll do my best to keep your short list on board your ship. But I’m only granting this concession because of your last particular mission’s importance—and I hope it goes without saying that said mission must remain completely on the down low?” I said, wondering how it’d come about that instead of consigning this Captain to the footnotes of MSP history, I was contemplating putting what could be the fate of our next mission—the liberation of 23 and 24—right back in the hands of a loose cannon like Tyrone Middleton. “I don’t want what you’ve learned to spread across the fleet’s information vine.”
“Only a handful of my people know about the ComStat network, sir,” he assured me. Still, I felt anything but assured, considering the amount of trouble this man had collected and dropped squarely in my lap like a steaming pile of Bug excrement. “I knew that kind of intel’s dissemination was way above my pay grade, so I kept the lid on it as tight as I could.”
“A rare display of unassailably sound judgment, Captain,” I said with a smirk before shaking my head and sighing, knowing that regardless of my own personal opinion of how he had conducted himself on tour, you can’t really judge someone until you had walked in their shoes for a while. “But seriously, it sounds like you had quite the ride out there. I’m glad you managed to make it back to the barn…even if you haven’t exactly soothed my nerves in doing so." I stood from my chair, and the Captain did likewise as I offered my hand. “Go change the fluids, pound the dents out, and get the Pride of Prometheus back out on the road. Barring any more surprises,” I said, careful to keep my features even as I was mortally certain there would be at least a few buried in this holy grail of a report of his, “your orders are to put in for those repairs and be prepared to continue your mission. Gaining full access to the ComStat network would amount to the single largest tactical advantage we could hope for, and in my judgment that’s probably the best use of your ship and your crew. Show me you can be a team player while you’re back here and I’ll probably see my way clear to sending you back out. You do have the only technician that’s succeeded in not only finding, but actually co-opting a fraction of the enemy’s ComStat network. We’re going to need that asset before this is through.”
I silently didn’t add that if Lisa Steiner and her team had been here, I’d have seriously thought about re-assigning Middleton’s tech under her and that system analyst she’d worked with—and I’d have likely sent them out under a different Captain. But needs must when the devil drives, and my current devil in the details seemed be named Tyrone Middleton. So for the moment I had to smile and bear up under it—at least until I could review my options.
“Thank you, Admiral,” Middleton said, grasping my hand and shaking it firmly but not challenging me as I had expected.
I returned his grip and nodded curtly. “Good hunting, Captain; I’ll have your roster reviewed and will send over the transfer orders as soon as possible.”
Middleton nodded. “Admiral,” he said, turning to leave the ready room.
“And Middleton,” I added before he reached the door, prompting him to turn, “act as if you just received the tongue-lashing of the century on your way out. Since your new mission is almost certainly to be an essentially an intelligence op let’s get things off on the right foot with a little deception, shall we?”
Middleton quirked a grin and nodded, “Will do, Admiral.”
Chapter 4: Diplomacy, Interrupted
“Sir we’re reading increased activity in the outer system,” reported the Sensor Officer on the Aqua Novan SDF Corvette Invincible Fire.
The Captain, Lieutenant Commander Donald Quark, turned his head sharply. “What kind of activity?” he demanded.
“The Shaanxi Fleet are abandoning the perimeter of the system and falling back on Planet Liang,” reported the other officer.
“Which ships?” the Captain of the Corvette demanded.
The Sensor Officer paused. “All of them, sir,” he answered in a dread-filled voice.
“Does anything on your screens show what has them all up in a bother?” Captain Quark asked.
“We can’t see out that far with the eyes on this warship, sir,” reported the Officer.
The Captain turned to his Comm. Officer, “Get me a line to the Ambassador. Now!”
“Yes, Captain,” said Mr. Sylvan, the Comm. Officer.
“This is Select Folsom, Ambassador to the Shaanxi,” the potbellied man who appeared on the screen announced importantly, “what seems to be the problem, Lieutenant Commander Quark?” he asked in a voice that made it clear he found the interruption of whatever he’d been doing extremely irksome. “With the Prime Minister and Foreign Minister of Shaanxi, negotiations are in a delicate place and I need not remind you that Aqua Nova stands at a critical junction point with in the Sector, thus it is imperative to convince our good friends—”
Quark knew that anyone who conquered or crippled Aqua Nova opened up at least three other key systems within the Sector to immediate attack with seven more less key planets after them. All of this was old news and as it didn’t look like Ambassador was going to stop speaking anytime soon he decided it was time to interrupt.
Spineward Sectors 6: Admiral's Spine Page 6