Admiral Who? (A Spineward Sectors Novel:)

by Luke Sky Wachter

  Space gods, I could use a stiff cup of tea right about now. I went back to the bathroom and palmed a stim patch. It was time to go make some kind of dramatic gesture, so I could get on with the business of saving innocent lives, and it appeared that I needed my wits about me more than I previously suspected.

  With a groan, I freshened up before putting back on the old uniform and that awful helmet. Whoever said being an Admiral and a Prince was easy should be shot. Or at least married against their will and shoved about someone else's board, like a pawn in some interstellar game of chess.

  But before I could shoot anyone, first I had to call down to supply. There were a few things that needed arranging if I was to do this properly. Properly. Ye Space Gods, when my mother found out I had married without even bothering to bring the girl home first. I winced. Best not to think about that yet. I instructed myself to focus on the tens of thousands of innocent settlers dying on the vine if I couldn't make something, anything, work. I took a series of short hard breaths. "I can do this," I muttered, pumping myself up before started for the door.

  I slowly ground to a halt. No, I couldn’t do this. This was insane. Nobody could be reasonably expected to cope with this series of events. I stopped before opening the door and just stood there with my head leaned against it.

  Fighting and dying for these people was one thing. Either way, it was over quick. Living for them each and every day was something else entirely, shadowboxing unseen opponents who were three steps ahead of me and hiding at every turn.

  I gave myself a shake. I had to box up everything I had just learned and focus on the situation at hand. I straightened my shoulders, and then gave a groan. Mother would be furious, but I’d just have to somehow explain that we had eloped without being fully aware of all the cultural and familial implications. It would have to do.

  Worst case, there was always the example of Jean-luc. The galaxy was large, and Montagne’s virtually unknown outside of Capria's little sphere of influence. If I left the sector and kept my head low, I’d be virtually free.

  I kept telling myself this until I finally worked up the nerve to open the door. The thought of running away was appealing, but right now there was nowhere to go. So it was forward.

  Pausing just once to run back and throw up in the toilet, I finally managed to get out of the room. I almost convinced myself the bout of emesis was a result of taking a stim patch on top of all the work the Doc did on me while I was unconscious. It was a hard sell, but I'm quite persuasive.

  I arrived in the main mess hall. It was empty for the first time since I had taken the Promethean refugees onboard. The Prometheans had reacted better to being kicked out of their only place to live than I suspected a comparable number of Caprians would have. It was only temporary, and I had invited a number of them to the event I was planning. Still, it made for a measure of discomfort most people would have found utterly intolerable.

  Regardless, setting seating assignments, coordinating with the galley and ordering in everything from wall hangings to plusher seats from the smaller officer’s mess, was something I was used to being involved in. If not for some event at the Royal Palace, then from tagging along behind my mother, who was a trained gourmet chef.

  It helped settle my stomach to keep my mind occupied with other things. Being able to focus on something I actually knew how to do, like plan a grand function. In this case, a banquet in honor of Lady Akantha and everything she had promised to do for these homeless, broken down settlers.

  Of course, if she didn’t make good on her promise to ‘help out,’ then no one was likely to complain when their Admiral, the esteemed Prince-Cadet Jason Montagne dumped her like a bad habit and explained about the terrible mix up that caused all this confusion in the first place.

  Several hours later and the scene was set. If the engineer was happy to let me wander in their wake on a fruitless search because he’d already put the vibro-blade in my bed, then I was more than happy to let them keep searching until the scene was properly set.

  Since most of my crew was either asleep, at their duty stations, or busy with the search, I was forced to make use of the Prometheans I had kicked out. Several of the Promethean women were quite helpful. After the pall that had hung over me ever since I’d taken command of this ship with her Caprian crew, it was nice to see some genuine gratitude.

  Apparently, to the Prometheans I was the War-Prince who drove off the pirates and saved them from certain death. It seemed after learning I was going to find them a new place to live inside a system rich natural recourses, I had risen even higher in their estimations.

  With the Caprians, I always felt like they were watching me with suspicion. Trying to see which way I’d jump. The Prometheans just accepted me for the war leading, miracle worker they thought I was. Both views had their draw backs, but it was a nice change. Even if it was only a temporary condition.

  Since they had proved so useful in cleaning out and setting up the main hall, I decided to utilize them further and had them get together with the tailor. We decided to set them up in a room nearby the crew’s main dining hall.

  I was going to have them wait for the fitting until after the main course, but they assured me that no woman likes to show up to an occasion dressed in a simple hospital frock.

  Since they were going to be taking her measurements anyway, I decided to send a message for Gants to come join me here for a brief conference. We might as well get her measured for her next two gifts at the same time.

  When Gants arrived and realized there was going to be an occasion in honor of the Lady, he grinned happily. "Of course, sir! I'd be thrilled to help out in any way I can. The lady deserves all the best!" Damn Gants and his eternal optimism.

  I closed my eyes. Somehow, she managed to make a favorable impression on the man, despite all my dire warnings. If I wasn’t careful, she’d soon have him wrapped around her little finger just like the rest of them.

  I had to get that woman off my ship. Then I had a wonderful idea. If everyone liked her so much based on a false first impression, then when we got the refugees down planetside, I’d make sure she was well rewarded and set up in a fashion she’d find acceptable. It was going to cost, I was sure, but it would be worth it. Then she could stay down with them as their planetary liaison to the native population!

  I would be the absentee husband she got to complain about never being home long enough to kill as payment for his latest failings, and I could breath safely on own ship. It was a win-win.

  "Gants, I think it might be helpful if we presented Lady Akantha with a few appealing offerings. It might go a long ways towards smoothing out this...transition," I finished, actually having difficulty defining what was about to happen.

  "Oh, absolutely, Admiral," he gushed, far too enthusiastically for my taste. "We must spare no expense in ensuring her happiness at this occasion."

  I glared at him, but managed to hold my tongue. For his part, he didn't seem to notice the look of consternation.

  After all the little additions were in place. I summoned Lady Akantha to the dining hall. Gants had my hand written note requesting her presence, and everyone in my crew that was with her was ordered to abandon the search for the meantime and join us for a repast. A banquet was being thrown in her honor and I had invited as many people as I had seating for.

  The natives were invited also, of course, because to do otherwise would be to insult the lady. My officers were present, because if there was one thing Admiral Janeski had failed at, it was calling his officers together for team building activities like dining together. His affairs were always glum and mostly focused on bolting down the food in a civilized fashion before returning to duty.

  Still, we had been trained differently. His focus was to outmaneuver and destroy his enemies on the battlefield of space. I had been trained in a different school, and knew how to outmaneuver and destroy people at the social scenes. While I liked to think I wasn’t a disaster when it came to combat, pa
rt of the reason I wanted to renounce my citizenship and leave Capria was specifically because of how I had been trained. Still, the Admiral and I were alike in that when it came to social events, we weren't really trained in the other’s field of expertise.

  Finally, to balance things out, I added the grateful Prometheans I’d had to temporarily remove from the hall. I felt I needed a group that was solidly in my corner at the banquet tonight. Besides, at moment the Prometheans lived on this ship too. They had a right to see the woman who was going to help me fix this situation and put their lives back on track.

  Of course, when the Lady Akantha arrived outside the mess hall where I was stationed to intercept her so as not to ruin any of the surprises, it was obvious I was back on the top of her hit list. The natives were eyeing me funny as well.

  She smiled icily where everyone could see, but as soon as she got near she leaned in close, “Why are you so determined to embarrass yourself and shame me yet again,” she hissed.

  I quirked an eyebrow, “I’m throwing a Banquet in your honor. I hardly think that’s something of which you should be ashamed,” I said as evenly as I could. “Quite the opposite, when you stop to think about it.”

  “Cooking food and cleaning the Hall is the job of women and menials,” she glared. “Am I such a poor Sword Bearer and Hold Mistress in your eyes that you would lower yourself to such tasks, that everyone should know your low opinion of me?!” She finished a touch too loudly, even for her own liking.

  People turned to look at the unhappy couple, but I waved my hand to say everything was fine.

  I had to take a moment to process her perspective. It was a little harder than I had originally suspected, to come up with a counter argument to her objections. I mean, I wasn’t surprised she had objections. Honestly, everything I had done to this point (even saving her life) had consistently failed to satisfy her. I hadn’t thought a banquet in her honor would be any exception.

  Still, the perspective was all off from my way of thinking. We were on a military ship that I commanded. I had never properly proposed to her, either by way of my culture or hers. So to rectify that, I was ordering people around and throwing a big too-do in her honor.

  How was I supposed to throw a surprise party, if she had to be involved every step of the way? It kind of ruined the surprise, to my mind.

  Then I had the glimmerings of an idea. She used to think this was a river boat, but now thanks to a certain meddling chief engineer, thought of the Lucky Clover as some sort of floating citadel instead. But we weren’t safely at home in some nicely furnished citadel. We were warriors on the warpath. Even in her culture, I bet they didn’t bring along a lot of women and children when they went to war. On the other hand, maybe seeing all the Promethean families and female members of our crew had sent her calculations rocketing off in the wrong direction. Natives were used to a sense of motion when they traveled, and so far all we had done was drift along in a stable orbit around the planet.

  I took a deep breath and met a gaze so frigid it should have shriveled me on the spot. Doing my best to ignore it, I pushed forward.

  “I realize there are cultural differences. But please try to remember, this isn’t a giant castle we all live inside. This is a ship full of warriors that moves from place to place seeking out pirates,” and then, because I wasn’t sure if her world even had significant water travel yet, “bandits and other ships filled with the warriors of hostile worlds and empires intruding on territory we have claimed.”

  I could tell something was getting through that thick skull of hers, but I still couldn’t read her and tell what or how much.

  “When you look around this ship, I’m sure you see families. Women, children and such,” I continued calmly, avoiding a patronizing tone. “Perhaps that’s why you think of this ship like a citadel down on your world. But please remember, until a day or two ago we only carried warriors and people who knew the risks. People who are ready for battle at any time.”

  “Then why do you have so many people, so many non-warriors in this flying citadel…your Lucky Clover,” she challenged, not quite ready to believe anything I said.

  “When we drove off or killed the pirates who had destroyed their settler’s ship and left them to die,” I paused, not sure if she understood anything about the dangers of cold space, “to, um, sink in the... river between the stars, until they died from being unable to breathe, we had lots of extra room in this ship.” I swallowed, not wanting to get into the subject of the Empire and why there was so much extra room.

  “So of course we picked them up and brought them with us until we could find them a new home,” I finished.

  She actually seemed to have softened a bit and looked at her Promethean maid and the members of my crew with more understanding in her eyes. Then, as usual, she hardened.

  “That still doesn’t explain-” she said like a woman determined not to ignore bad behavior.

  I cut her off. “Surely, even amongst your people, a man may sometimes desire to surprise his Lady and to give her fine things.”

  She looked surprised and, dare I say intrigued, before catching me looking at her and smoothing her features back into an icy mask of disdain.

  “The women from Prometheus helped,” I started, only to see the mention of other women turn her icy disdain into angry disapproval. “Once they heard it would be in honor of the woman who will help them find new homes, and for the person who just saved their lives, they wanted to surprise her.”

  “Perhaps I abused my position as Admiral to please you," I admitted. "Other than that, I can only plead with you, knowing how my mother would react if she saw how you’ve been treated ever since I rescued you over from the Bug ship.”

  She was starting to soften. “The sword stolen-” she said, icing up again. Why where women so difficult?

  “Going around the ship without clothing proper for your station,” I hastened, trying to intercept her mid-sentence. “I just wanted to make sure you saw the best side this ship could offer after having experienced some of the worst. I didn’t mean to step on your prerogatives, or shame and embarrass anyone. I assure you, after this we can work together going into the future. For now, please enjoy the best my humble war-ship has to offer.”

  I think I almost had her, so I decided to end on a dramatic note.

  “Besides, my crew doesn’t think feasting the Admiral’s Lady is inappropriate for them to help out with, and everyone else on this ship owes me their life. I’m sure they can all manage to overlook a little borderline impropriety with a man trying to please his new…” what was that word she’d used? I searched my memory until I had it, “Sword Bearer. If they are so ungrateful that they can’t,” here I paused and pretended to be angrier than I was, as I glared around at the Prometheans and, more importantly, her native tail, “then I’ll just have to consider withdrawing my ship’s hospitality and sending them right back to where I found them.”

  It was a bluff, that last bit about putting them off the ship and sending them back to the Bugs or pirates for ingratitude, but it sounded like something that would play well with her barbaric outlook.

  She stood there, as if still considering what I’d said, but for my blond ice maiden her features practically glowed when you compared to how she normally looked. Which is to say her face had softened a little bit and instead of her usually pale faced anger, her cheeks had taken on a bit more their of natural, frosty pink color.

  “It still seems very improper,” she said, glancing back at her native complement before looking back at me.

  “Forgive me,” I said as fervently as I could manage. If she would just accept this small olive branch and, dare I even think it, stop wanting me dead, perhaps we could work something out where I set her up for life and we never had to see each other again, except on rare holidays and occasions, like when my mother insisted on meeting her. Besides, any young lady forced into an unwanted marriage deserved all the fervor I could put in my voice. Even if I blamed
the whole thing on a cultural misunderstanding (instead of myself for not being a mind reader) for her current status.

  “I suppose I shall have to,” she said with a slight quirk of the lips that you would have to really stretch to call a smile. Then her voice turned hard again to let me know she was serious. As if she was ever anything other than that the whole time I knew her. “This time.”

  Eager to let that final note put a cap on our conversation, I clapped my hands and motioned for the Promethean women to come get the Lady Akantha.

  There was a harsh glare from the Promethean maid who had attached herself to my intended (or whatever she was called at this stage in our relationship), which was not something I’d expected. Either the relationship or the glare from the maid. I had to let them work it out amongst themselves later. The ladies were going to keep my Ice Maiden occupied for a while and give me a breather, no matter what Akantha’s little follower thought about the matter.