Admiral Who Snippet 1

Alright did some editing with my brother.  Ready for the next pass.  Please read and comment with helpful suggestions or you can e-mail me directly if I've sent you my e-mail.

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Chapter 1:  Changing of the Guard




    Officially I was the commander of an entire Fleet sent out to guard the borders of the Confederated Empire.  Unofficially I commanded nothing at all.   The ‘fleet’ such as it was consisted of less than 20 ships and was spread out over 7 parsecs of space.  We were busy patrolling the border of the empire as  individual units or penny packets of at most two ships.

    While I stayed out of the way studying in my cabin, Imperial Rear Admiral Arnold Janeski exerted ‘Operational Command and Control’ of the fleet.   Meaning he ran things with an iron fist and I just tried to stay out of his way and out from under foot.  A member of a minority branch of a nearly  irrelevant provincial dynasty (equipped with an honorary commission in its system defense force) was nothing next to a battle hardened imperial fleet  commander.

    In reality, the only thing I controlled was the work station and terminal in my stateroom.  To make certain I understood my real role in this fleet  (as if I’d ever forget) the Admiral had also stationed two Imperial Marine Jacks decked out in full powered armor outside my door.  As an honor guard, of  course.  They escorted me wherever I went and were with me whenever I was outside my quarters.  My quarters where the only real place I had any privacy  during the cruise.

    In truth I was here only as a polite political fiction.  The Empire had ‘asked’ (a much gentler word than demanded) that the individual world states  in our sector of the Confederacy second ships from our individual System Defense Fleets over to the Imperial Rim Fleet.  We were supposed to help patrol the  borders of the Confederated Empire while the regular units of the Imperial Fleet were siphoned away from Rim Fleet and assigned to a Battle Fleet on the  other side of the Empire, where there was a real war raging with the Gorgon Alliance.

    Under intense imperial pressure my world had reluctantly agreed to send more than its fair share of ships to the miniature patrol fleet, but as a point of principle our planetary parliament had wanted something in return, something they could show the voters back home and from which they could generate some political capital, which it seemed was always in short supply.

    A deal was eventually reached and the task of picking the ‘official’ commander for this new Fleet was given over to our planetary parliament. 

    Parliament realized that whoever they sent out wouldn’t actually be in charge of anything whatsoever, so they called upon the branch of the government most  skilled at working under such constrained operating conditions.  A person was needed who was used to having no authority, looked good on camera and was willing to shoulder the burden of responsibility if anything should go wrong.

    So of course the State Department quickly assigned the task to the royal family.  Our ‘Royal Family’ then deliberated long and hard before deciding  no one of any importance within the family actually wanted a job which was so fraught with both political and physical peril.

    The imperials would get all the glory and our fleet leader would only share in the blame if anything went wrong.  So naturally the job was given to  the Montagne Branch of the family, who quickly assigned the post to someone they felt best represented the spirit of the post.  Someone who was not powerful enough to cause any real problems, yet high-profile enough to serve as a proper figurehead.  Someone charismatic enough to step in front of the cameras when it was time for a press conference, but too inexperienced to really understand what was going on without a script in front of him.  So it was without fanfare  that they appointed me to the post.

    Prince-Cadet Jason Montagne Vekna, of house Montagne.  Yes, we are the same Montagne’s who caused a great deal of trouble fifty years ago, so much in fact the Imperial Rim Fleet directly intervened for the first and only time in the history of our planetary affairs.

    I was unborn at that time, which is the only reason my neck is still attached to my shoulders but try telling that to the admissions board at a major educational University.  Officially I’d been invested as Governor of Planetary Body Harpoon at the tender age of 15, given the powers of high and low justice  over all upon it.  Unofficially Harpoon was a small asteroid on an elliptical orbit and when a couple of asteroid miners set up an illegal mining operation on it last year, I couldn’t even get the parliamentary courts to give me a portion of their profits as taxes, to help offset my college tuition fees, let alone evict them and their mining operation from the asteroid itself.

    Scholarships are illegal for members of the royal family, even cadet branches outside the official line of succession such as mine.  My family was the impoverished side of an impoverished and virtually powerless dynasty and basically we had no money.

    So in short, life sucked.

    But no more than it did for anyone else; everyone has troubles and trials in their lives after all.  It just so happened that mine included being  told where I was going to be for the next 9 months of my life, with no appeals allowed, and involved a pair of power armored imperial guards following me around wherever I went.

    Things were not entirely the thorn of a rose, occasionally even a Montagne got to smell the flower a time or two.  What I’m saying is onboard ‘my’ flag ship I had access to a full imperial database.  My access codes in the imperial database were the same as those of a midshipman and this unexpected boon of my supposedly high office had allowed me to continue my educational studies without actually paying any tuition fees.  I will admit that I reveled in the pettiness of my personal gain via this miniscule bureaucratic glitch.  Victories were few and far between in that particular period of my life, and I have no shame admitting my sense of triumph.

    Also because the ship was currently seconded to the Empire any courses I completed here received full imperial accreditation.  A free midshipman’s  level of access to the imperial database also meant I was required by the computer network to complete many of the required courses a midshipman would normally have had to take while onboard ship.  That was a small price to pay for the university level education in colonial administration I’d always hoped to be able to afford someday.

    Thus was my life.  I got up, toured the bridge each day at 08:00, stayed no longer than 5 minutes and no shorter than 2, then proceeded over to the  mess hall.  After eating I exercised for no more than 2 hours and no less than 30 minutes.  I then retreated back to my cabin for the remainder of the day to continue my studies.  I left my quarters after that only to go to the mess hall and eat.  The rest of the time I kept to myself.  Hearing members of the crew refer to me as ‘The Little Admiral’ was almost as bad as being addressed as ‘Governor Montagne’ by Admiral Janeski.

    My dream was to complete a master degree in colonial administration and eventually leave my home world behind in search of a place where I could stand on my own two feet and be judged on my own merits.  Not on the many flaws of my long since annihilated ancestors.  I say annihilated because that’s pretty much what happens when the Imperial Rim Fleet orbitally bombards the palace your family resides in.  Personally I’d have been holed up in a fortified bunker with an excellent communications suite and five years worth of life support and food, but then that’s just me.  My ancestors clearly thought otherwise, which is partly why they are all dead.

    Anyway, back on topic.  Those nine months would have been utter tedium if not for my intensive studies program, and they passed relatively uneventfully.  Then one day, without any warning (at least for my part of things) everything changed.  Let me tell you how it went.

    I was sitting at my workstation, pounding away on a particularly tricky problem of resource allocation for a new colony in the early stages of settlement, when Admiral Janeski’s voice sounded from the speakers in my cabin.

    “Governor Montagne to the flag bridge.  Governor Montagne to the flag bridge immediately.  This is the Admiral, out.”  The speaker then cut off.

    My head jerked, the admiral had never ordered me to come to the flag bridge on an immediate basis before.  I’d been told to not waste time, or to move smartly, but immediate had never entered into the vocabulary.  Not even the one time the flag ship had found a pair of heavily armed pirates plundering a drifting merchant vessel.

    Quickly I shrugged off the old coat I’d been wearing for comfort and pulled on the rest of my official monkey suit.  My official court outfit was a much beribboned affair consisting of a formal jacket covered with a fruit salad of ribbons and gilded silver lining.  It also came with old fashioned breeches tight enough to threaten amputation if I sat down wrong, and a genuine leather belt with a pair of thumb sized rubies on the clasp.  There were also a pair of knee-high boots, fairly nondescript save for the ridiculous shine achieved by hours upon hours of rigorous scrubbing and shining with old-style waxes.  So after hopping into my boots, I threw my official jacket half way over my shoulders and charged out of the room.

    I didn’t want to show up in anything less than formal attire while on the flag-bridge, but on the other hand I knew the Imperial Marine Jacks stationed outside my doors were perfectly capable to tearing them down and coming inside to get me if I was too slow in responding to the Admiral’s orders.   They’d never done it before and I didn’t intend to find out if they would ever actually do so in the future.

    Surprisingly though, as soon as I cleared the doorway the two Jacks grabbed a hold on either arm and despite my bewildered protest that I could easily walk under my own power, frog marched me down the corridor.

    My quarters were those of a former Flag Lieutenant’s and were on the same level as the flag bridge.  So in almost no time I was through the first pair of reinforced bulkheads leading into the flag bridge.  The first set of pressure doors closed behind us and the second opened as I was unceremoniously pushed onto the flag bridge.

    Opening my mouth to protest this rough treatment, I took one look at the Admiral’s tight lipped face and snapped my teeth together with an audible click.  Glancing down, I started buttoning my formal jacket, embarrassed at the disheveled appearance I presented in front of this most formidable Imperial  Officer.

    “Governor Montagne,” he said, acknowledging my presence with a nod.  “It seems we have a bit of a situation.”

    “What happens to be the problem, Admiral?” I asked, suppressing a desire to run a hand through my hair and gulp through sheer force of will.  When combined with the iron clad media training every royal of my home world is taught from birth, I somehow managed to abstain from any other unseemly behaviors as well.  Our training was so rigorous because we didn’t want to embarrass ourselves or the government in front of the public.  Most especially the  government that held our purse strings, but in this case my training did a good job of settling my flutters.  I couldn’t imagine what problem could exist that the admiral would need my assistance with but I was willing to do my figurehead best and help out however I could.

    The Admiral ignored me and pulled out an official looking paper scroll covered with seals.  Looking down at this he started to read.

    Quickly I schooled my features.  This at least was something I was familiar with, receiving and listening to speeches from foreign dignitaries while maintaining an appropriately stoic and regal appearance had been one of the primary skills taught in royal finishing school.  That and making our own  speeches in return of course.  We weren’t really taught that much about the policies, politics or inner workings of the planetary government nor did we have much say in such matters, instead we were taught both how to and how not to behave in formal state functions and also how to receive and entertain important  galactic visitors.  We were really nothing more than the glorified butlers of our parliamentary government.

    “By order of Magnus Gaius Pontifex, Triumvere of the Empire, along with the advice and consent of the Imperial and Republican Senate, all ships, officers, personnel, and portable assets belonging to the Empire of Man, excepting only certain diplomatic envoys and delegations, are hereafter ordered to immediately withdraw from the Spine Ward Sectors of the Confederated Empire and redirected to those provinces along the Gorgon Alliance front as quickly as  possible-”

    I leaned back, eyes widening.  “What!” I burst out, unable to restrain myself.  And not incidentally cutting the Admiral off midsentence.  “You’re  stripping the Spine of all Imperial assets?  What about the Rim Fleet?”

    Fixing me with a thousand meter stare, and consequently freezing me in my tracks, he stopped the next words halfway up my throat.  After a brief, but sufficiently reprimanding pause, the Admiral continued “This proclamation is not yet finished,” he grated between clenched teeth, his eyes boring holes through my skull as efficiently as any cutting torch.

    Realizing how badly I'd broken protocol by cutting off an Imperial Admiral reading an official proclamation from the Triumvirate of Man, I nodded, despite the thousand questions still bubbling up inside me.

    The admiral cleared his throat and continued.  “In addition all assets belonging to the Empire of Man, the Triumvirate and the Senate, which cannot be easily moved out of the indicated sectors but which represent a military or technological asset of importance are to be destroyed.  Also,” he continued grimly, “all private imperial citizens are urged, for their own protection, to abandon the Spine Ward sectors of Confederation Space.  As imperial fleet  units and ground forces will no longer be able to offer an adequate level of protection from piracy and other acts of vandalism nor to provide any form of emergency service until further notice.”

    So saying he rolled up the proclamation and placed it back inside an official looking engraved wooden box.

    Swaying where I stood, I was completely stunned.  This was a complete violation of the Union Treaty, which established the Confederated Empire, and permanently allied both the Confederation and the Empire for time and all eternity.

    “What about the Union Treaty…?  What about the rights of the Spine Ward Sectors to Confederated Empire protection?”  I stumbled out.  “Aren’t we still a part of the Confederated Empire with the right to equal protection, under the United Space Sectors and Provinces Act?”  I ground to a halt, my mouth opening and closing as the potential implications of the Rim Fleet withdrawing from this specific sector of space really started sinking in.

    The Admiral shook his head.  “All of those are very interesting questions.  Questions to which I’m sure you’ll eventually receive answers.  But at this specific moment those are the wrong questions to be asking.  What you should instead be asking, or at least considering, is what I’m going to do with all the imperial officers and personnel currently serving in this ad-hoc patrol fleet.  And whether or not I am planning to turn the entire fleet toward Empire Space.”

    I blinked.  The thought hadn’t even occurred to me.  He could certainly do it, not only did he have the personnel to man the ships but he also had enough imperial marines to seize the vessels by force if necessary.

    “I can see you hadn’t thought about that yet.”  Again he shook his head but this time his upper lip curled as well.  “Taking control of this fleet and moving it to the Empire would be no problem at all.”  He snapped his fingers for emphasis and snorted, then shook his head in negation. “However I am no pirate and even if I were, this outdated fleet is hardly worth the effort.  The cost of upgrading this poor excuse for a star fleet to battle-ready condition, would make it hardly worth the effort.”

    “Fortunately for you, but unfortunately for this patrol fleet, that means that a short while from now you are going to be in full operational command of this fleet… such as it is.”

    Overwhelmed I gasped in dismay.  Feeling lightheaded I carefully walked over to the nearest work station on the flag bridge and collapsed into its form fitting chair.  “There’s no way I can actually take command of this battleship, let alone act as a real Admiral for the entire fleet.” I exclaimed verbalizing the first thing to enter my brain.

    The Imperial Admiral shook his head dismissively.  “You’ve no choice but to fulfill your duty.  Political expediency may have placed you in ceremonial command of this patrol fleet, that’s true.  Unskilled and unfit as you are, you’ll no doubt make a hash of it.  However it is still your duty to carry out the stated will of this fleet’s collective governments and complete its mission and intended purpose before returning safely home.”

    “Of course I’ll make a hash of it,” I muttered.  “I have no actual training in space force operations.”  Then another thought came to me and I  jumped out of the chair.  “I could be thrown in jail just for taking real command of the fleet.  I might even be charged with treason against the planetary  parliamentary!” I exclaimed, pacing back and forth.  “They never actually meant for me to command this fleet.  You’re supposed to do that.”  I finished, unable to stop myself from glaring at the Imperial Admiral accusingly.  “That is your job, Admiral.” I flared as only someone already facing the prospect of an unpleasant execution can.

    Turning his back, the Imperial Admiral activated the forward view screen.  “That was my job.”  The Admiral corrected me with military precision.   “I’ve since been reassigned by the Triumvere.  You can either do your duty and take command of this fleet or else let someone else do it for you.  Whatever  happens to the fleet from the point I step out this ship’s airlock is no longer any of my concern.”  He gestured to the main view screen and one of the many  Imperial Technicians assigned to the flag ship shunted a sensor feed through to the screen.  On it an Imperial Carrier appeared, and according to the estimated course shown on the screen, the carrier was due to dock with our aging battleship within the hour.

    “The Imperial Command Carrier, Invictus Rising, will be docking with us shortly.  At that time I will transfer both my flag and all Imperial Personnel currently onboard this ship to Invictus Rising.  Any other personnel who chose to sign on with the Empire of Man’s space fleet prior to undock will also transfer to Invictus Rising.  After that this ship and its remaining personnel will be exclusively under your orders.”

    Unable to think of any protest I could utter that would convince an Imperial Admiral to disobey the direct order of an Imperial Triumvere, I slumped  back in my chair, overwhelmed by the enormity of what was happening.  The entire Spine Ward sectors of confederate space were being abandoned in favor of protecting the Empire’s Provinces along the war front.

    Careful to make no sudden motions which might upset the Imperial Jacks stationed in the room, I watched dully as the Imperial Command Carrier came closer and closer.  My mind numb, all I could manage was to stare at the screen.  Not only was the sector my planet was located in being stripped of protection, but on a more personal level I was in deep, deep trouble.

    Fifty years ago members of my planet’s royal family, specifically those royal members belonging to the Montagne branch (of which I was a reluctant part) had temporarily seized power from the parliament in a bloody coup.  A coup, which months later, was ultimately suppressed by elements of the Confederated Empire’s Rim Fleet.

    The current parliamentary government had sent me out here knowing with total certainty that I’d never have any hint of real authority within an Imperial Fleet.  I was just here to look good on camera and show how important supporting the Empire was to our planet.

    When they found out things were otherwise, heads would roll.  Perhaps even literally, and it was quickly sinking in that almost certainly one of those heads would be my own.  I’d never be allowed to renounce my citizenship and leave for a new colony after this.  I’d be carefully watched for the rest of my days and if I was very unlucky I could even be permanently assigned to the royal retreat, which wasn't so very different from a prison sentence.   Consumed with these thoughts, the hour until docking passed by like a dream.

    When the Imperial Command Carrier actually docked with our ship I imagined I could feel the whole world shudder along with the ship.  The next two hours also passed in a blur as Admiral Janeski ordered the entire crew confined to quarters and then started transferring all our Imperial officers and  personnel off ship, along with the equipment they’d brought with them.  After that he ordered the main imperial database wiped and prepared to leave the flag bridge for the last time.

    The captain of the Battleship, also an imperial officer, soon arrived on the flag bridge.  Ceremonially and together the Captain and Admiral  carefully cased the Admiral’s flag, which was a metal standard made of Duralloy and had been personally given to the Admiral by an Imperial Triumvere when he’d originally made flag rank.  Then they began to leave.

    As they pivoted on their heels and took the first step towards the door, I wondered if this was it.  If they were just going to walk off and leave me with this terrible mess.  Unsure if I was supposed to do anything other than just watch them leave the flag bridge I was suddenly reminded of the many holo- vids I’d watched back home, where the departing captain or admiral would ceremonially turned the command codes and keys for the ship over to the new officer about to take command of the ship.  Finally seeing something I could do, my royal training kicked in and quickly I cleared my throat.

    The Admiral glanced back in my direction.

    Seeing him looking at me, my courage went up a notch and I hopped out of the chair drawing myself up at full attention, I resolved to play this thing  out just like I was a real royal about to receive actual command of a space fleet.  “Admiral Janeski, I am prepared to receive the command key and codes for both the flagship and patrol fleet at this time.”

    The Captain looked at the Admiral, who in turn looked at me with narrowed eyes.  Then after taking two abrupt strides the admiral stopped in front of me and pulled out a clear crystal from a vest pocket on the front of his uniform.  Slapping it in my hand he turned and without any further ceremony strode out of the flag bridge and off the ship.  The Captain, with the corner of one lip pulled up in a sneer, drew out a similar crystal and tossed at my feet  before he to departed.

    As quickly as that, I was the Master and Commander of an entire fleet of warships.  At least briefly, I was in total control of my own fate and my destiny was entirely in my own hands… who knew how long that would last?


The Deposed King