“All right. Why don’t you two run along then and see what you can find out.”
“Are you going back into the office, Jonah?” Burke asked.
“No, it’s already three o’clock. I think I’m going to take a bit of a nap.”
Ardmore and Burke carried on in Ardmore’s living room.
“I worry about Jonah, Jimmy. Taking a nap isn’t his style.”
“Well, he is almost ninety-three, Gail.”
“Yes, I know. That’s why I worry.”
“Well, let’s see what we find out. Let’s start with all five-star and six-star admirals in the Imperial Navy.”
Ardmore pulled the entries out of the Imperial Navy database to populate his table.
“Let’s pull all the retired ones who are less than sixty, Jimmy. Add them in.”
“All right.”
Ardmore jiggled the database again and added to the table.
“Now let’s color-code all the ones who have held operational command at three-star level or above.”
A subset of the database was highlighted in the display they could both see.
“And now star the ones who are in headquarters as opposed to in field commands.”
“That kind of jumps out at you, doesn’t it, Jimmy?”
“Sure does, Gail. Nobody with operational command experience at three-star or above in headquarters? That doesn’t sound right.”
“Unless someone was systematically moving operational commanders out of headquarters.”
“That could be unpleasant. Let’s see. Of all the people who had operational commands and were in headquarters posts, who moved them out of headquarters?”
“Jimmy, look at that.”
“I see it, Gail. Almost all of them were moved out by Admiral Serge Astanov, the head of flag assignments in the personnel division.”
“I just did a quick lookup, Jimmy. He’s from Odessa Sector.”
Ardmore went into another VR channel, and left it open to Burke.
“Lina Schneider.”
“Ms. Schneider, this is Dr. Ardmore. Can you do a quick check for me on your investigation maps and see for me if Admiral Serge Astanov or any of his relatives is at the end of one of those payment streams.”
“Sure. Just hang on.”
Ardmore didn’t have to wait long.
“Yes, Dr. Ardmore. His sister was getting sizable payments from Vladimir Nekrasov.”
“OK, thank you, Ms. Schneider.”
“Oh, Dr. Ardmore? One more thing. He went missing the day after Piotr Shubin was executed. Nobody’s seen him since. His chief of staff has been Acting in that post since.”
“Understood. Thank you, Ms. Schneider.”
“No problem, Dr. Ardmore.”
“And people wonder what sort of trouble someone can cause in a human resources position, Gail.”
“In this case, plenty, Jimmy. He’s emasculated the Imperial Navy headquarters.”
“Apparently so.”
“Jimmy, run all this quick on the Imperial Marines, too. Same analysis. What do you get?”
Ardmore queried the database and performed all the previous analysis.
“Same thing, Gail.”
“Let me guess. Some guy from Odessa Sector?”
“No, Gail, this guy’s from Baden Sector. General Helmut Carstens.”
“Sector Governor von Hesse. Makes sense. Call Lina Schneider again.”
“Lina Schneider.”
“Ms. Schneider, Dr. Ardmore again. Same question for General Helmut Carstens.”
“Hang on.”
Again, Ardmore didn’t have to wait long.
“Yes, Dr. Ardmore. This time his brother was getting the payments. Also from Nekrasov. He’s also disappeared. Do you think they went camping together?”
“Very likely. Thank you, Ms. Schneider.”
“So same-same, Jimmy.”
“Yes, Gail. Also payments from Nekrasov, though he was probably von Hesse’s man, at least originally.”
“Now what do we do, Jimmy?”
“Look at retirees?”
“OK, sure. Just those with operations experience, and put the youngest first.”
Ardmore twiddled the controls on the table, got the retirees only, and sorted them youngest first.
“Those guys are pretty young to be retiring, Jimmy.”
“Let’s check their personnel files.”
Ardmore sucked up their personnel files, and they started scanning them.
“All with reprimands, Gail. The youngest ones, at least.”
“Yes, Jimmy, but look at who entered the reprimands.”
“Astanov and Carstens. Well, what do you know.”
That night at dinner, Drake was looking a bit better after a two-hour nap.
“Yeah, it just caught up with me today, I’m afraid,” Drake said. “I’m too old for this. How did all those other Emperors do it?”
“They had stable regimes by the time they were your age, Jonah,” Burke said. “All eight of them. You’re the troublemaker trying to change everything in your final years.”
Drake chuckled.
“Yes, that’s probably it,” Drake said. “I do feel much better now, though. Maybe I’ll add a nap to my daily routine. Do you think I can get away with that?”
“You’re the Emperor, Jonah,” Ardmore said. “You can get away with whatever you want.”
“I think I might do that, then,” Drake said. “You find out anything?”
Ardmore and Burke told Drake about Astanov and Carstens.
“Well, I can’t say it surprises me,” Drake said. “Nothing about the deterioration of the Empire surprises me anymore. Do you think the retiree gambit can work? What were the reprimands about?”
“Pretty standard boilerplate nonsense, Jonah,” Burke said. “Some of them were even copies of others. Like they couldn’t bother to spend an hour of their precious time destroying someone’s career.”
“So what do we do, Gail?” Drake asked.
“I think we get these guys back, Jonah. Have them run headquarters and clean out some of the deadwood. Like everybody who signed off on their reprimands for one. And anybody getting paid on the side by a sector governor for two.”
“Do you think they’ll come back, Gail?” Drake asked.
“I think they will if you ask them personally, Jonah.”
Imperial Admiral Jason Presley (Imperial Navy, retired) had never really forgiven the Navy for the way he’d been treated. But the desk pukes ran all the people who knew what they were doing out of headquarters. And then to do it on a reprimand. It had been three years, and he was still pissed about it. He and his wife had retired on Center, but thousands of miles from Imperial City.
Then, out of the blue, he got a message marked Urgent and with an Imperial header.
To: Imperial Admiral Jason Presley, Imperial Navy
From: Edward Moody, Personal Secretary to HM
Subject: Assignment
By order of His Majesty the Emperor Augustus VI, the reprimand on your record has been removed.
You will also be paid back pay for the time since your forced retirement.
You are invited to resume active status with the Imperial Navy, and to discuss your potential assignment directly with His Majesty.
Please advise a time when meeting in VR with His Majesty would fit into your schedule.
Presley was from a military family – a Navy family – and was a Throne loyalist to the bone. When he got the message, he almost stood at attention just to read it.
He sent an immediate reply to Mr. Moody that he was available anytime at His Majesty’s convenience.
Presley clicked on the meeting channel and found himself in an office with an expensive but not ornate desk. Seated behind the desk was a very old man. The Emperor, Presley knew, was ninety-three years old.
“Your Majesty,” Presley said and bowed his head.
“Be seated, Admiral Presley.”
“Yes, S
ire.”
“Admiral Presley, I owe you an apology. I didn’t understand what was going on in the Imperial Navy, or how bad it had gotten. For that, and the affect it had on you and many others, I’m very sorry.”
Presley didn’t know what to say. He managed, “Thank you, Sire.”
Drake nodded.
“This is my problem, Admiral Presley, and I intend to fix it. My intention is to bring you back and to name you Chief of Naval Operations. We will bring back everyone who was forced out, and force out pretty much everyone who’s there now. Admiral Astanov is already gone.”
Presley resisted the urge to growl at the mention of that asshole Astanov.
“My investigators found that Admiral Astanov – and General Carstens in the Imperial Marines – were paid operatives of Odessa Sector Governor Piotr Shubin. They have escaped my wrath so far, but Governor Shubin did not. He died in an unfortunate groundcar accident.”
“He did, Sire?”
“Yes, Admiral Presley. His groundcar had a collision with a rocket-propelled grenade. At my orders.”
Oh, that had to have been messy. That was satisfying.
“I see, Sire.”
“They have, between them, gutted my Imperial Navy and Imperial Marines, forcing out the people who knew what they were doing, and keeping all the schlubs. I am beyond angry about this, Admiral Presley. If you sign up as CNO, you and I will need to bring back as many of the good people as will have us.”
“Yes, Sire.”
“Now one question that has to come to your mind is, That’s all well and good, but the Emperor is in his nineties; when he passes, then what? I can tell you that my son, who is in his seventies, will not inherit the Throne. That little tradition is over, Admiral Presley. My heir is young, active, and a decorated Imperial Marines combat veteran from a family with as long a service history as your own. In fact, my heir discovered what had been happening in the Navy and assisted me in your selection as CNO. So you need have no concerns on that score.”
“I see, Sire.”
“So are you with me, Admiral Presley? Will you help me put the Imperial Navy back together?”
“I would be honored to do so, Sire.”
“Good. You need to bring back all the good people and force out all the bad ones. And then, when the time is right, we are going to take back operational command of the Navy from the sector governors.”
“Yes, Sire. I think that’s a good move, Sire.”
“So do I, Admiral Presley. So your job starts right now. I’ll fire that other asshole and you can move into his office as soon as you can get here. And don’t worry about moving. Palace Housekeeping will take care of that for you. Just tell them where the house is and they’ll take care of the rest.”
“Yes, Sire. Thank you, Sire.”
“Thank you, Admiral Presley, for even taking this meeting. With the way you’ve been treated, I wouldn’t have been surprised if you’d told me to piss off.”
Drake cut the channel, and Presley found himself back in the house. It looked the same, for all the world around it had changed.
“Martha! We need to find a house in Imperial City.”
In 350 GE, in the seventeenth year of the reign of His Majesty the Emperor Augustus VI, amid the celebrations of three hundred and fifty years since the Empire’s founding, Imperial Admiral Jason Presley and Imperial General Samuel Destin began the rebuilding of the headquarters staff and operational capabilities of the Imperial Navy and Imperial Marines.
The Passing Of An Age
The next four years were a period of growth and stability for the Empire. Freed from the compound drags of censorship, patent corruption, and overburdening law, the economy boomed. The Imperial department heads, freed of the bureaucracy, grew into their roles as the direct representatives of the Emperor within the administration. The six top-level Offices completely staffed up and settled into day-to-day operations, and their leaders gained experience and subtlety in guiding the administration of the Empire.
The Department also staffed up, with tens of thousands of agents scattered across the far-flung Empire. Thomas Pitney’s lieutenants ran the organization, while he developed the big picture view of who was who and what was what in the sectors and provinces of the Empire. He concentrated on the sector and provincial governors and their capital planets, and had agents deeply embedded in their capitals and governments
The Imperial Navy and Imperial Marines had re-established their headquarters capabilities. The missile frigate was put into production though none were deployed, the inventory building up both on the ground and in multiple locations in space to hide their numbers. Galactic Holdings built them, and their existence, design, and capabilities remained secret. Staff movement within the Imperial Navy and Imperial Marines, which had slowed to a standstill, picked up a bit. What was not apparent was these movements fit a subtle pattern, as Presley and Destin worked from the Project 3 plan.
The sector governors, once cowed by the extravagant execution of Odessa Sector Governor Piotr Shubin, kept their heads down. The Emperor had not touched tax caps, operational control of the military within their sectors, or the sector-import tariffs and bans that were their hot-button issues. Occasional warnings, like the arrest and execution of some assistant who had gone too far astray, kept the sector governors in line. They decided to wait it out. The Emperor Augustus VI wouldn’t live much longer.
A new and untried Emperor would likely be more pliable, or at least more vulnerable.
The passage of time was good for Ardmore and Burke as well. They grew deeper in their relationship, more trusting, more able to read and predict each other.
The passage of time was less kind to Drake. He had gone to working a full morning, then taking a nap after lunch. At the beginning of this period, he usually went into the office in the afternoon for a couple of hours, but by the end of the period, he never did. His workday ended at noon. An aide from the doctor’s office downstairs had accompanied him everywhere for a while, a burly fellow who gave the Emperor someone to hang onto when he moved about the Imperial Palace. Now he stayed in the Imperial Residence and worked only in channel 22, and only by appointment.
Ardmore and Burke kept an eye on the store, and Drake more and more relied on their counsel for the decisions that came to the Emperor. These lessened during the period as the department heads gained experience and things quieted down from the first tumultuous three years after the Emperor had brought Ardmore and Burke into the Imperial Palace.
There were many things left undone – eliminating sector-import bans and restrictions, asserting operational control of the military, installing tax caps, and cleaning up the medical nanites problem – but this was not the time to do them. The push and shove with the sector governors was coming, though, and, behind the scenes, the trio prepared the battle space.
Ardmore, Burke, and Drake were at lunch in the Imperial Residence. Drake was looking very frail.
“I feel thin,” Drake said.
“You’ve always been thin, Jonah,” Burke said.
“Not in that way, Gail. I feel thin, like watered-down broth. My time is coming to an end.”
Burke nodded.
“We know, Jonah,” Ardmore said.
“Don’t sound so sad, Jimmy. It is the way of things. I can pass peacefully now, though, knowing I have left the Empire in such good hands. It is a great comfort to me. I have, after all, fulfilled my oath.”
Burke got up and knelt next to Drake’s chair, hugging him gently. He was so frail now. Drake laid his head on her shoulder and patted her back.
“You two will still have each other,” Drake said. “Take good care of each other, will you? Pressures and stress will try to set you against each other. Do not let them get between you. Only together are you strong.”
“We’ll remember, Jonah,” Burke said.
Drake patted her once more, then pulled away.
“Jimmy, can you take me back to bed, please?”
&nb
sp; “Of course, Jonah.”
Simplest for Ardmore was simply carrying the Emperor, chair and all, from the dining room to the bedroom, where he helped Jonah maneuver himself into the bed. Drake didn’t have to change, as he had taken to wearing the same soft lounging pajamas all day. He lay back in the bed and sighed.
“Thank you, Jimmy.”
“Of course, Jonah.”
That lunch was the last time the Emperor left the Imperial bedroom. Burke nursed Drake through his final days, feeding him in bed – mostly thin soups with some soft noodles and vegetables in them. She was careful not to get two pieces in any spoonful lest he choke.
The last week, Drake was in and out of awareness of his surroundings. On one day, in a period of clarity, he asked Burke to call Ardmore. They both attended Drake at his bedside.
“Remember, you two. Remember what I said.”
“We will, Jonah.”
“I love you both.”
“We love you, too, Jonah.”
He smiled and closed his eyes.
“It is done, then,” Drake said, and he died.
When Ardmore and Burke left the Imperial bedroom, General Hargreaves was waiting. The Imperial Guard monitored the Emperor constantly, and had known when he died.
“The Emperor is dead,” Burke said simply.
Hargreaves nodded, then bowed to them.
“Long live the Emperor and Empress.”
Burke nodded.
“Thank you, General Hargreaves. Inform Housekeeping, and have Mr. Moody prepare the funeral arrangements.”
“Yes, Milady.”
Ardmore and Burke walked down the hallway to Ardmore’s apartment. There were already two Imperial Guardsmen on watch outside the door.
“That’s going to take some getting used to,” Burke said.
They sat out on the balcony together. It was a beautiful day, just before noon. They watched the sun light up the statue of Ilithyia II, and contemplated the heritage to which they had become heirs.
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