Civilizations rise and fall. It was simply a fact of history. No matter how great, how good or evil, nations would rise, run their course, and eventually fall apart. There were no exceptions. Some might last a matter of years before being swept away by the tides of history. Others might stretch for several centuries. But in the end, it was always the same.
Admiral Samuel Aikens resisted the urge to clench his fists on the conference table before him as he watched the final communiqué from Fleet HQ wind down. Since this was the fifth time he had set through the horrendous images, resisting was easier. Not easy just easier. Yes, civilizations rise and fall. But those events were not supposed to happen NOW. They were events that happened in the past to people long dead and gone or to those yet unborn in the future….but not in the here and now.
To all outward appearances Admiral Aikens was the epitome of calmness. Yet not one of the six other officers present at the conference table doubted for a moment that he was not feeling the same emotions, the same horror that was filling them all. Here, away from the eyes of junior officers, they could let those feelings show. Yet each and every one of them knew that when it came time for them to share this information with their officers, they would be expected to show the same calmness, the same façade of control, that the Admiral now showed them. They knew that their junior officers, in the face of overwhelming despair, would draw strength from the façades they would show, just as they now drew strength from the Admiral. And more than one wondered who the Admiral would draw strength from now.
Aikens gave them a few moments to collect their thoughts before giving a slight cough to draw attention to himself.
“There you have it, ladies and gentlemen.” He took a moment to look each person in the eyes, willing them to pull themselves together.
“How?” Commodore Jessup Hugh of the destroyer task group gave his head a slight shake, closing his eyes as if to erase the images he had seen. “How can something like this just come out of the blue?” He opened his eyes and turn them to a woman a few seats away. “Why didn’t EmpInt know anything about this?”
The woman, Capt. Lisa Brock, commander of the Eighth Fleet’s intelligence division, squirmed a bit in her seat and shook her head.
“We don’t know if they knew anything or not.” She said. “All I know is that no wind of this came down to me or my people. If anyone at HQ knew anything, they probably figured we didn’t have a need to know.”
“Unless all of EmpInt decided to turn traitor all of the same time, I think we can safely assume that they were caught by surprise as well.” Aikens cut in. “This looks like something that was put together on the fly, without a lot of thought as to the consequences.” He shook his head and spread his hands on the table before him. “Ladies and gentlemen, we can debate the hows and the whys for days and probably will. Amongst ourselves. Right now, with the exception of a very few of my staff members and the crew of the scout vessel that retrieved these images, we in this room are the only ones who know what has happened. Right now, we have to decide how and when to tell our crews. Every man and woman in this fleet deserves to know what has happened. But when we tell them what has happened, we also need to be able to tell them what we’re going to do now.”
“Well isn’t that obvious?” Commodore Hugh appeared to be both surprised and appalled that there might be any question as to their next course of action. “We head back in and put this rebellion down, hard!”
“Perhaps you weren’t paying attention, Jessup.” All eyes turned to the dark-haired, scowling man seated across from the Admiral. Commodore Leonard Ryese. Commander of the fleet’s cruiser task force. “Let me fill you in on the part you obviously missed. There is no Empire! It’s gone! You don’t even have a single rebellion anymore. You have a five sided war with elements of the rest of the Imperial fleets scattered amongst all five. And while they are all fighting for the scraps, our oh so friendly neighbors are swarming across three of our borders to make system grabs. We, on the other hand, are a boarder fleet. We have exactly one carrier, albeit one of the Behemoth class, three battleships, six cruisers, eight destroyers, and I’ll not even bother mentioning the various transports and other minor craft. Now you tell me what good we will do with all this overwhelming force, if we race straight into the fire.”
The sarcasm dripping from Commodore Ryese’s tone, not to mention the actual words, were enough to turn Commodore Hugh’s face red in a combination of embarrassment and rage.
“Enough, Leonard.” Aikens broke in before Hugh could respond. “You made your point.” The Admiral turned to Commodore Hugh and slowly nodded. “Unfortunately it is a valid point. Let’s face facts. The Eighth Fleet is vastly underpowered compared to the other Imperial fleets. We are, for all practical purposes, a border patrol. A fact that is driven home even more when you realize that a vast majority of our crews are from the border worlds in this sector.”
“Are you suggesting that our crews won’t do their duty?” Jessup demanded.
“He doesn’t have to suggest anything.” Lisa Brock spoke up. “We all know that relations between the Border Worlds and the Core Worlds are not as good as they could be. You show those crews what is going on in the core Empire and they are going to wonder why the hell they should leave their worlds unprotected to go try to save something that is already gone. So unless you plan on manning each of your destroyers by yourself, you should probably take their opinions into account. Sir.”
“Actually all three of you are correct.” Aikens spoke again. “Those images you just watched were accompanied by a situational Omega broadcast. All Imperial fleets have been released from Central command. We are ordered to take independent command in order to prosecute the war and maintain the empire as we see fit. In this case we means me.” He held up a hand to forestall Leonard’s protests. “That does not mean that we commit suicide by racing to the fire, as you put it, Leonard. We simply do what we need to do in order to maintain the empire and prosecute the war.”
“And how do we maintain the empire, Admiral?” Capt. Brock demanded. “The entire Imperial family has been wiped out. Are we supposed to choose one of the pretenders and throw our meager strength behind them?”
Rather than answer her directly, Aikens looked back to Leonard.
“Well, Leonard?” He demanded. “What do we do it the entire Imperial family is dead? Or are they all dead?”
“What do you mean…” Leonard started and stopped, his eyes growing wide. “Oh my God! Princess Altaira!”
“It appears Commodore Ryese has been keeping secrets from the rest of us.” Aikens was actually able to produce a small, weak smile. “Apparently, one of his cruiser captains is the late Emperor’s niece. And, equally apparently, the only surviving member of the Imperial family!”
“Princess Altaira?” Capt. Brock’s tone was incredulous. “A cruiser captain?”
“And one of our better ones.” Leonard admitted, somewhat sheepishly. He shook his head. “Hell Admiral, I totally forgot all about her Imperial connections. From her record she joined the Academy as soon as she was of legal age and came through with flying colors. Since she’s been part of my squadron she has been an exemplary officer.”
“Well, for your sake Leonard, I hope her first officer is as good as she is because I’m going to have to take her away from you.”
“No, Sam.” Leonard shook his head. “You don’t know her. She won’t go for it. She’s happy where she is. Ah hell. I know you don’t have a choice but I’ll tell you this. If you do what I think you’re going to do, don’t expect her to be your puppet or anyone else’s. You put her in charge and that exactly what she will be: in charge!”
To be Continued……..
-- Story written and copyrighted (C) 2014 by Clay Grayson
-- and may not be reprinted without permission.