Ragnarok-ARC

by Patrick A. Vanner

  "Is there any reason why you are openly admitting to all of this?"

  "Yes, there is, sir." Alex turned her gaze on Admiral Greco now. "I think that my actions were not only appropriate, but justified."

  "How in the hell do you think you can justify—" Admiral Rachere tried to interrupt again.

  "Admiral Rachere!" Greco half shouted, determined not to let the situation get out of control. When the admiral closed his mouth with a snap, Greco turned back to Alex. "He does have a point, Captain. How can you believe that your actions were justified?"

  "Well, sir, at no time did Admiral Rachere express any interest or concern in the status of my crew, or for the reason why I was in-system and shot to hell. What he did seem interested in was pursuing some sort of personal vendetta against me by goading and pushing me into a reaction. I freely admit that I lost my temper, and that I did indeed try to assault the admiral. But not only did he know damn well what he was doing, he was doing it on purpose, and I could see it in his face that he wanted the reaction he got."

  "Personal vendetta?" Admiral Greco asked, his interest sparked by this new development. If this was indeed personal, things changed significantly.

  "Yes, sir, though I confess I have no idea what it could be." Alex's voice was as puzzled as her expression. "I had never met the admiral before he walked onto my command deck." It was true that she did not know what the admiral had against her, but she was about to find out.

  "Admiral Rachere, do you have a response to this? I should tell you, several of the reports I have received seem to support the same theory. That you have some sort of personal grudge against Captain McLaughlin."

  "I cannot attest to the contents of the reports you have received, Admiral, but I harbor no ill will against the captain, present circumstances excepted, of course." Alex could see that he was still sweating, and she was pretty sure it was not because of the threat on his life. It was time to push, and push hard.

  "Bullshit! You and I both know you have something against me," Alex hurled at him. She saw Admiral Greco open his mouth to cut her off, but it was too late. She had goaded Rachere into a response, and she was not going to stop until she had what she wanted.

  "You don't know what you are talking about, Captain."

  "Try again. There is no way you could put two and two together and get four, let alone determine my complicity in some sort of traitorous activity, unless it served your personal interests."

  "How dare you!"

  "How dare I what? Point out that if your brainwaves dipped any lower it would be legal to harvest your organs? Or that you have an agenda that you are willing to do anything to achieve, even sacrifice the lives of good men and women?"

  "I have no such agenda. And you have no right to accuse me of sacrificing the lives of good men and women when you have abandoned so many behind you."

  "I have abandoned no one!" Alex shouted, leaping to her feet. Anger and guilt had pushed all thoughts of goading the admiral into a confession aside. Thankfully she did not have to try any longer. Admiral Rachere was on his feet now as well, and Admiral Greco was speeding around his desk to impose himself between the two of them before they came to blows.

  "You abandoned my son!" Admiral Rachere's shout shocked them all into silence and immobility.

  * * *

  "Your son?" Alex breathed out, collapsing back into her chair, ignoring the pain the action caused.

  "Yes, my son." Admiral Rachere fell into his chair as well, looking defeated and deflated.

  "I didn't know you had a son," Admiral Greco said, returning to his own chair.

  Alex looked between the two men, and then inward toward herself. The mood in the room had changed, and so had her feelings. She was still furious at the admiral—not for his actions, now that she understood them, but because he had given her yet another ghost to answer to.

  "His mother and I divorced years ago, and he took her name when he entered the Academy," Rachere said quietly, tears welling in his eyes. "When he graduated, he was accepted into flight school." Alex looked up and could see him staring at her now, and she knew what was coming next.

  "He was so proud to serve," he continued in a cold, hard voice. "When he was assigned to Admiral Wentworth's fleet, he could not believe his luck. He was going to help save humanity, and I couldn't have been more proud of him. Then you came back." His finger pointed accusingly at Alex. "You came back, but he didn't."

  "Sean," Admiral Greco said quietly. "She was not the only one to come back from Ross 128."

  "I know that!" he shouted at the admiral. "But she is the only one who left him behind."

  "What?" Alex said.

  "I've reviewed the Gna's logs, the ones that survived." The hatred was returning to his voice now, and Alex could feel hers returning as well. "Your sensor records clearly show that on your exit of the system, you passed several Valkyries still engaged, but failed to retrieve them. You didn't even try!"

  "There was no way I could have retrieved them," Alex whispered back. "We were redlining the reactors, and there was no way to slow down in time to even attempt retrieval." She hated herself for what she was about to add, but she could not leave it unsaid. "And even if there had been a way to slow enough to retrieve them, I would not have done it. The Xan-Sskarns were too close behind, and they were gaining. I had to balance the lives of a few Valkyrie pilots against the lives of the crews of three ships. I had no choice, and I have hated myself since then."

  "No choice? Hated yourself?" Rachere said mockingly. "I don't give a fuck about that. I want you to hurt. Hurt like I did, like I do. Your self-pity means nothing to me."

  "So, you did it on purpose, then, for no other reason than revenge?" Admiral Greco said quietly.

  "Of course I did. I'd read her record and asked questions. Alexandra McLaughlin is fanatical about the welfare of her crew, and I knew the best way to hurt her would be to hurt them. When the Fenris jumped in-system wounded and crippled, I saw my opportunity, and I took it."

  Alex was livid, once again, teetering on the edge of violence. Suspecting the admiral of attacking her through her crew was one thing. Knowing it for a fact was entirely different. She wanted vengeance for her crew, and watched Admiral Greco rubbing his temples, waiting for him to dispense it. Finally, his fingers stopped and it appeared he had reached a decision.

  "I have the defense of this system to oversee, a possible traitor in our midst, and this mess between the two of you to deal with, and I don't have the time for you two. So this is what I am going to do, and I will not listen to one word of argument. If I ever hear of this again, I will personally see to it that the remainder of your natural lives is a living hell. Am I clear?" The steel in his voice was unmistakable.

  "Yes, sir."

  "Yes, sir."

  "Very well, Admiral Rachere, you will return to your command and resume your duties. You will receive a reprimand for the delay of vital information. As there was no additional loss of life aboard the Fenris due to your actions, there will be no other action taken against you. You will, however, seek out counseling, and I will expect regular reports on your progress. And if you set even one toe out of line again, that will be the end of you. Do you understand?" Alex watched as Admiral Rachere nodded his head in acceptance, unable to speak.

  A slap on the wrist. A God damn, fucking slap on the wrist for endangering the lives of her crew for his own petty gains. She ground her teeth together, waiting for her own punishment. She felt sure that it would be significantly worse than Rachere's, and if it was too disproportionate, she would damn well make sure everyone knew what really happened, and damn her career.

  "As for you, Captain McLaughlin, while it is obvious to me now that you were pushed into your reactions and that your casual attitude about them now is, in my opinion, sheer bravado, the fact that you could be manipulated so easily shows me that you too are harboring demons that need exorcising. Therefore, you will undergo a full psychological evaluation prior to the assumpti
on of your new command. Should you not pass with flying colors, not only will you be denied a new command, I will down-check you and have you beached until such time as you do pass. Do you understand?"

  Now it was her turn to nod wordlessly as the admiral continued speaking. Not only did she, too, get a slap on the wrist—she apparently was getting a pat on the back as well. A new command. Usually a captain knew long ahead of time before actually reporting to a new command. She could not help but wonder if this was in part a bribe for her silence. She pondered that thought for a while before she saw that Admiral Greco had stopped talking and was looking intently at her.

  "Sir?" she said hesitantly, hoping she had not been spaced out for too long.

  "I asked how you were doing, Captain." She looked around as if to find the answer written somewhere for her to read off and saw that she and the admiral were alone in the office.

  "I'm fine, sir," she said, stifling a yawn, "just really tired."

  "I'm not surprised. It's been a long day for you." He seemed tired himself.

  "Yes, sir, it has."

  "I've had my aide arrange for quarters for you during your stay dirtside, and to have your gear shipped down from the Fenris."

  "Assuming I have any gear left. We took quite a pounding, sir." She tried to keep the melancholy tone out of her voice but could see by the way the admiral looked at her that she had failed.

  "Yes, I know. I've seen the video from Folkvang station. You did one hell of a job getting her home at all."

  "Thank you, sir. We tried. How is my crew? You said there was no further loss of life?"

  "That's right, Captain. Relief crews moved in quickly, and your entire crew has stood down. Every single crew member that made it to Sol system is expected to recover. But there will be time enough for this later, after you have submitted your full report." He tried to sound upbeat, but failed miserably. Tonight was just not the night for jocularity.

  "I'll have it to you as soon as possible, sir." She knew that she would be sending it directly to him, not via her chain of command, which, as far as she knew, still included Admiral Rachere. Thinking of him, and of what he had done, she felt the anger burning in her again.

  "I look forward to it. Now, as I said, I've had quarters arranged for you, and I'll have a new uniform delivered tomorrow morning." She looked down and grimaced at herself.

  "I'd appreciate that, sir." She stood, swaying slightly, and heard the door open behind her. The admiral must have summoned his adjutant when she was not looking, but she took his presence as a dismissal. "Good night, sir."

  "Good night, Captain." She was just passing though the doorway when he called out to her. "Captain McLaughlin, one last question."

  "Sir?"

  "After everything that you have heard tonight, are you still harboring any thoughts of vengeance against Admiral Rachere?" His voice floated out to her from the darkness of the office.

  Yes, I am.

  "No, sir, of course not," she said as she pulled the door shut.

  Chapter Twenty

  Naval Annex, Washington DC, Terra

  October 11, 2197

  0930 z

  Sol

  "So, McLaughlin passed her psych eval?" Secretary Lipinski asked.

  "Yes, Mr. Secretary, she did, but I had no doubt that she would," Admiral Greco said.

  "If you had no doubts, why did you order it, then?"

  "I ordered it before I remembered she used to be a Loki pilot."

  "I know that's a very intense job, but what does that have to do with passing a psych exam?"

  "Well, Loki pilots are required to undergo intense psychological testing prior to even being accepted as a candidate. The job is almost a suicidal one, but unfortunately necessary. With that and the expense of a Loki itself, we can't afford to have anyone who isn't one hundred percent stable behind the stick. That's one reason Loki pilots are limited to ten active missions and no more than that. Going out and painting yourself as a huge target is nerve-wracking, and it's all too easy to lose touch with reality. Thus, in addition to the original psych eval, they are subjected to one after each active mission. So it's no surprise that Captain McLaughlin passed. She's had more than her fair share."

  "Do you think that is the only reason she passed? Because she has experience with evaluations?" Lipinski seemed concerned now, as if there were a walking time bomb out there.

  "That and the fact that she looks like she does." Greco smiled at that, and saw Lipinski nodding in agreement.

  "I know what you mean. She looks like a little girl, and her injuries only support the fact that she was the victim. I have no doubt that Captain McLaughlin is not above using that, or anything else for that matter, to help her reach her goals," Secretary Lipinski said lightly, not noticing Admiral Greco's wince at the use of the word "goals." He remembered all too clearly the last time he heard that word used in such a light manner, and it was not a pleasant memory.

  "I agree, sir."

  "Are you having second thoughts about the new command? Do you think that she is still too traumatized?" Lipinski asked him intently.

  "No, she is still the best choice available for the position with the loss of Captain Chapman." Captain Chapman, commanding officer of the USS Asgard, was due for a new command, and his XO was due for a command of his own. Chapman's loss with the destruction of the Asgard, and the loss of a several other, more senior officers, had left the list of available, experienced captains very short. "Of course, there are still officers senior to her still in-system, but with the current situation, it would be unwise to disrupt any ship's command structure. That being the case, McLaughlin is who we need. Besides, with her record, I have no doubt that she will be able to handle the additional responsibility. Plus, her XO is an outstanding officer and very experienced. I am also assigning a majority of the Fenris' remaining crew to her new command, so she should settle in quickly."

  "Okay, I can understand that, but what about any lingering trauma? Is she going to hold up or collapse when it hits the fan?"

  "Oh, I don't doubt that there is some lingering trauma there," Admiral Greco said, waving the thought aside with his hand. "You can't see what she has seen and not be affected by it. But even if she did manage to put one over on the shrinks, I'm sure she'll do her duty. She always has."

  "It's your call, Richard. I just want to be sure that you're sure. Now that we have put that unpleasantness behind us, what is the status of our defenses and Counter Intelligence's investigation? I have to brief the President in half an hour, and I don't want to tell him everything is coming up roses and have it turn around and bite me on the ass later." Lipinski held Admiral Greco with his stare until Greco nodded.

  "I'm sure about Captain McLaughlin. There won't be a problem. The system's defense network has been put on alert, Admiral Tanner is preparing a new deployment plan for the fleet, and Counter Intel is still looking."

  "What about transferring the crew of the Fenris with McLaughlin? Are you sure that's wise? You're not worried about putting a traitor in the heart of our fleet?"

  "Sir, while I am in agreement with Admiral Stevens' assessment, the odds of the traitor having been on the Fenris, then living through that battle, and then being in a healthy enough condition to be reassigned are virtually nonexistent." Admiral Greco paused before finishing. "You can give the President my word on that, and I'll take any blame should it turn out otherwise."

  "Very well, Admiral. Thank you for your report, and keep me informed." Admiral Greco knew a dismissal when he heard one. Heading for the door, he was glad that he had not divulged the specifics of his conversation with Admiral Rachere and Captain McLaughlin. Lipinski would down-check her immediately, but that would be the wrong response. He knew that things were going to go from bad to worse any day now, and they needed someone like McLaughlin on the front lines. Trauma or no.

  * * *

  Dressed in a new uniform, Alex entered the outer office of the Chief of Naval Operations. Her space-b
lack uniform was unadorned except for rank tabs and her black-skull Loki wings. Lieutenant Commander Painter was not in the office, and none of the other staff had ever seen her in uniform, so the flow of work merely paused to see who had intruded in their little world and to stare at the mass of bruises that still decorated the right side of her face. Oblivious to their looks, Alex walked over to a chair in the small waiting area and took a seat, not saying anything. She felt almost no pain from any of her wounds, thanks to the wonders of modern medicine. Wondering for a moment at how life must have been before the advent of DermaGen, QuickKnit, and the host of other pharmaceuticals that she took for granted, she could not imagine having to spend weeks or even months recuperating from the injuries she had sustained, instead of days. She hoped Greg and the rest of the crew were recovering as well.