Polaris Sector, Battleship Singularity
‘The Badger has disembarked, Admiral.’
He took that information in stride, now standing outside the quarters granted to Ron Parker. ‘Good.’
‘I am surprised he did not complain about the subspace receiver.’ The ghost found herself puzzled. Merlyn had been so vehement about all the other modifications, but had not contacted anyone with a complaint about that one.
‘Likely, he didn’t want to confront me again.’ And really, who could blame him there? ‘I can’t say I’d be very understanding if he threw me against the wall a second time.’
‘Believe me,’ she promised coldly, ‘he wouldn’t have gotten that far.’
There was a darkness in that he knew he should address, but he could hardly blame her when such darkness was common to him. Had their roles been switched, had Merlyn gone after her instead, he never would have made it off the ship alive, so really, the Admiral was in no position to hand out a lecture.
Soon enough, all this business would be behind them. He’d be on a mission with just his ship and her crew. Nothing would please him more. All the intricacies of adopting a somewhat unwilling fleet were exhausting. There were too many near-hostile factors, Hawkins and Merlyn to name only two when another few thousand sat out in the fleet, fixated on the ugliness of the past.
But then, the conversation he was heading into likely wouldn’t be any friendlier. Still, he raised his fist and knocked crisply on the door, knowing the metal would carry the sound through the room beyond.
Hearing the knock, Ron opened the door with a smile, expecting to find Amelia and the kids. Met instead with the ship commander’s neutral blue stare, the smile fell from his face. Given the threat leveled during their last encounter, Ron doubted this was a courtesy call. He swallowed, “Is there something I can do you, Admiral?”
“That remains to be seen,” the Admiral answered calmly. “But I do believe we are overdue for a conversation. One perhaps best held not in the corridor?”
“Yes,” Ron jumped, “Please, come in.” Truly, it was a wonder the man waited for permission to enter any room on his own ship. If Reeter had ever bothered to knock, he would have shouldered his way in without prompting for permission.
But this wasn’t Reeter. The way his shoulder twinged from his recent stab wound reminded Ron that much.
Habitually, Ron closed the hatch behind him, the drilled instinct of working on a military ship kicking in. Then, he made his way back into the living area of his quarters. The Admiral was waiting behind the dining table, back to the wall, not to the room. It was the habit of a solider, one he recognized from many of his comrades through the years.
Ron didn’t ask what this was about. The sinking feeling in his stomach insisted he already knew, and without a word, the Admiral offered out the folder in his hands.
Taking it, it was identical to the one he and Amelia had pulled from the archives, save whose name was stamped on the tab and the fact it wasn’t empty. Ron didn’t need to look past the fleet insignia stamped on the cardstock to know what was inside. “How long have you known?”
“Long enough.”
It was all Ron could do to be grateful that, for the moment, Anabelle was off with Harrison and Amelia. Knowing they’d been found out would send her into a panic attack. Ron swallowed, “Whatever you want to do to me, do it. But please, don’t hurt my daughter.”
“I have no intentions of hurting anyone.” The Admiral said calmly, his eye-contact unwavering to an intimidating degree. “However, I do not take kindly to those who come aboard these decks under false pretenses.” There had been too many saboteurs, too many assassins for him to trust so easily. “So, I would like you to tell me the truth. The whole truth.”
Sighing, Ron set the folder on the wood table between them. “I was the Marine Sergeant aboard the Flagship Olympia, a fleet veteran of twelve years.” He knew the Singularity’s crew housed a substantial dislike for the Olympia’s, and had accordingly tried to conceal his origins as much as possible. “But like that file will tell you, I went AWOL a few months ago, stole a ship, and didn’t look back.” He had a court martial waiting for him, if he ever returned. “We were hiding on the family land when ‘Belle got sick, so I went for help, knowing Reeter’s men were on the ground. That’s where your people found us.”
“I know what you are, Mister Parker.” He was a deserter, traitor to the fleet. “I would like to know who.”
“I don’t understand.” He was Sergeant Ron Parker. That was right there in the file.
“That is to ask why, Mister Parker. Why would you walk away from twelve years in the fleet and arguably the finest Marine post within it?” It was rare to see anyone walk away from Reeter, let alone survive it. Clearly, Ron had some level of ingenuity on his side.
“Why do you care?” Reeter certainly hadn’t. “I’m your enemy.” He was either an enemy in the sense that he was a deserter, or in the sense that he was one of Reeter’s subordinates.
“You are not my enemy, Mister Parker.” There were truly very few in these worlds that the Admiral considered his enemy. “You were a shipboard Marine, and a fine one at that, if your record is any indication. Those skills can have uses for someone like me.”
Ron took a moment to size up the man across the table. He was shorter than Ron himself, but stocky. His uniform jacket concealed whether that was pudge or muscle, but given the way he’d been thrown against the wall in the medical bay, Ron suspected it was the latter. His calm was unfaltering, not a weakness in his expression, and that left Ron unsure if this conversation had any real meaning to him. “You want to draft me into your crew?” But what about ‘Belle? Who would look after her?
“No, I had another task in mind, one I do not believe you will disagree with, and I will supply whatever you feel necessary to complete it.”
His expression was perfectly guarded, leaving Ron uncomfortable. Save the sharpness of intelligence, there was nothing in his gaze, no intention, no emotion. But, like any soldier, Ron had heard the rumors, and he knew some of them to be truths now. This man had no qualms with taking life, regardless of whose it was, if it became necessary. Admiral Gives was first and foremost, a tactician, and he had proved through the years that he was willing to use any means necessary to accomplish his goals. “I’m not in a position to deny you, Admiral. You know that. What do you want?”
“I will not force you into this, regardless of the means at my disposal.” And he certainly did have the means. “Given the nature of this task, I believe a willing mind would be best applied.”
Ron narrowed his eyes, tightening his grip on the back of the chair in front of him. The dark blue upholstery of the cushion gave softly beneath his fingers, the only comfort in the room. “And what exactly do you want me to do?”
“First, explain. I will not trust this task to anyone, Mister Parker. I will fully vet your intentions, and then, perhaps, I will tell you.” He folded his hands behind his back. “Now, I will not ask you again. Why did you abandon your post?”
Tempted as he was to ignore that inquiry, he knew steel when he saw it. This was the end of the line. To test the Admiral’s patience now would only end badly. Ron could only surrender the truth to him. “My wife got sick. She was like Anabelle, the slightest of illnesses could take her to the brink of death. I was stationed aboard the Olympia when I got the call.” He could still remember it. Closing his eyes, he could still hear the doctor’s practiced, apologetic tone. “She’d gotten sick again, but this time, she wasn’t going to get better.” Clenching his jaw, he tried to hold back the tears he knew all too well.
“I requested leave from Admiral Reeter, but he denied it. So, every day, I called and talked to my dying wife as she sat in the hospital, and every day she sounded weaker and weaker, until one day, she couldn’t pick up the phone.” The anguish of that moment was still such a fresh wound. “Anabelle answered when I called, and I could just hear it. She was scared and alone, and I, I was stuck on a ship a thousand miles away for no reason.” He could still feel the itch of anger in his veins. “I begged Reeter, pleaded with him to give me leave, but still, he rejected me.” It wasn’t as if the Olympia had been on an important mission either. The ship had been lounging in orbit, the crew running constant drills and simulations. “Reeter couldn’t have cared any less. And eventually, I just couldn’t take it anymore. I stole a Rhino and flew to the hospital, but by the time I got there…” Ron trailed off his throat dry and voice uneven. It was too late.
“It was all I could do to drag Anabelle away from her corpse.” Her sobs still echoed in his ears. “We were on the run from the military police for months, and I had to live every day with the fact that I left my wife, the love of my life, behind to rot, to be buried by strangers if they were kind enough.” He wasn’t sure how anyone ever forgot that, ever moved on. For months, he and Anabelle had lived day to day, uncaring of anything but scraping by without getting caught. “Once the search calmed, I settled on the family land in remote Kansa, and that’s where we met Amelia.” The rest, he figured, was history.
“That’s why I left. For my family. How could I have stayed?” That would have been so cruel. “With her mother dead and me stationed away, they would have placed my daughter in an orphanage.”
There was a long moment of silence, the Admiral apparently contemplating the honesty of his story until without moving, without betraying a thought, he finally said, “It seems I have found the right man for the job, Mister Parker.”
To have that impassive response given when he had just poured his heart onto the table between them, it stung. That familiar frustration toward his uncaring commander reared its head. “Of course, you wouldn’t understand the lengths a man would go to for his family.” A damned sociopath couldn’t possibly understand that.
The Admiral met his gaze evenly, tone just a bit sharper than before. “I understand just fine, Mister Parker.” That old accusation cut him just as much as it always had. “I may not have a family in the sense that you do, but I have a ship and crew under my command, and I would do absolutely anything for them.” They weren’t related to him, but they were his responsibility. It was his duty to protect them, and nothing could stand in the way of that. “I have known loss, Mister Parker.” Unlike Ron, he had been totally alone, without the driving need to protect anyone, without a real reason to continue living. “I know what it means to be given a purpose.” For Ron, that had been his daughter’s safety, and for the Admiral, his ship.
They weren’t so different, but then, Admiral Gives had been around long enough that he could see bits of himself in almost everyone. None were truly like him so to say, but if he looked, he could always find something familiar. If he looked, he could find a way to empathize, though he rarely found a reason to put forth the effort. It wasn’t usually so easy.
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“I am the only one who has seen the entire contents of that personnel file, Mister Parker.” Those who had queried for it, received and printed it may have skimmed it, but they wouldn’t have read it in detail. There were rumors, as there always were on a ship, but there were no facts. “I am the only one here who knows your prior history, and it can stay that way.”
“For a price,” Ron knew. One didn’t deal with men like Admiral Gives carelessly. Every one of their apparent favors came with a cost.
“I can erase this file from the database, do what I can to corrupt the fleet’s records and solidify new identities for you and your daughter.” Identities that would be free of AWOL charges. At the very least, that would ensure their safety among the civilian fleet and the Singularity’s own crew.
Ron was tempted. “What do you want in exchange?”
“When we leave this sector, there is a high probability that we will be forced into combat during our mission. To that end, I will not be taking Amelia, Harrison or Anabelle with us. I intend to turn them over to the Badger.” With her upgraded life-support, the ship could sustain a few more passengers, even if the surroundings would be cramped. “I would like you to look after them in our absence. Given your skillset, I believe you would be more than capable of taking care of any threat they may encounter.”
He was being asked to look after Amelia and Harrison? “That’s it?” He’d be able to stay with Anabelle?
“That’s it,” the Admiral affirmed.
Ron almost laughed. “You act like I wasn’t already going to do that.” All that posturing for this?
“Given the nature of this assignment, Mister Parker, you understand that I needed to vet your intentions.” The truth of Ron’s past had been of particular importance.
“You wanted to make sure you could trust me.” Ron understood. Apparently, somehow, he’d passed the Admiral’s test. “You act like you don’t care about her, Admiral, but think this proves to the contrary. You want to see Amelia and her son well, even if you won’t admit that.” In that, they shared a mutual goal.
“To be clear,” the Admiral said, “I am placing the entirety of the Badger under your protection. Crew and passengers included.” This was not so much about Amelia, though it proved a convenient way to give her the distance she so sought.
“Of course,” Ron nodded, electing not to push the subject. He rolled up the sleeves of his blue flannel, “You said you could supply me?” His equipment had been confiscated by Reeter’s men. To be most effective as a Marine, he would require some tools of the trade.
“Anything you need.”
Ron felt a grin tugging at his lips. That was poor wording for someone so known for his caution. “Well,” he said, looking around, “a battleship would be mighty useful.”
“Do not test me, Mister Parker.”
Ron wiped the smile from his face, recognizing the ice in the Admiral’s eyes. So much for a sense of humor. Just when he felt they might bond over a common goal, it seemed the Admiral had no interest in it. “I’ll need weapons. Protective gear. A handheld transmitter wouldn’t be unwelcome, in case I need to circumvent Captain Merlyn’s authority. A battlefield first aid kit and emergency repair kit are absolute necessities.”
Ron’s attempt at humor aside, those were fair demands. “I can get you a standard issue rifle and sidearm. Rubber ammunition and some live rounds.” On a ship like the Badger, live rounds were a hazard, with potential to ricochet or puncture the hull. Rubber would be better in a fight if it came to that. “I can also arrange a set of Kevlar, but no helmet.” That was too difficult to conceal. “What martial weapons did you train with?”
“I always preferred the spear, but given the Badger’s close quarters, I’d be better off with a set of hatchets.”
“Then I will see to it. Count on the aid and repair kits, and I trust your training to know that transmitter should be a last resort.” Using it could bring Command down upon them.
“Yes, sir, I am aware of that.”
Admiral Gives nodded, noting Ron had changed to address him more formally. It seemed that giving him a mission had brought the Marine back to his old habits. “A yeoman will bring your supplies by in a duffel later, and I would think it pertinent not to announce your objective to anyone on the Badger. To them, I would advise you remain just another passenger.” Revealing his mission would reveal his past, and create other concerns. “I do not believe Captain Merlyn would take well to me sending a Marine on board his ship.”
“Yes, sir. I’ve run undercover ops before.” This would be no different.
“I would also recommend against telling Amelia.” Recognizing Ron as a Marine might damage their bond. “Her relationship with the service is complicated. You will note she is no fan of me, and to her, I represent its absolution.” A soldier and nothing more. “Her husband was a Marine like yourself who served under Admiral Reeter’s command.” The Admiral leveled his gaze, a warning. “He didn’t make it out alive.” Ron was luckier than he knew. “Amelia’s husband was duty-driven and honorable. At one point, she loved him for it, but at another, it took his life and left her all alone.” The Admiral could understand that. His own perspective on the service had been badly shaken many times over the years.
“You are very similar to him, Mister Parker. That is why she likes you. But, I imagine, if she found out why you seem so similar, she may resent it.” Amelia would hate herself for allowing another solider to get close, afraid to get hurt again the way she had before.
“I understand.” Ron didn’t like lying to Amelia, but he knew his history was poison to them both. Amelia couldn’t stand the mere mention of Reeter, and Ron had served on board his flagship for months. Ron was too close to Reeter and to her late husband.
“Very well,” the Admiral said, “I am pleased we were able to reach an agreement, Mister Parker.” He strode across the room and held out a hand, “I will take care of that file.”
Taking the file in his own hands, Ron was reluctant to hand it over. What guarantee did he really have that the Admiral would destroy it? What guarantee did he have that this wouldn’t become blackmail on him and dictate the future of him and his daughter?
“Do you take me for a liar, Mister Parker?”
“To be entirely honest, Admiral, I don’t know what to make of you.” He wasn’t sure if he trusted this man or hated him. His actions spoke of a respectful amount of accountability, but his words were less convincing. “What would you have done if I said no to this mission?”
“That depends.”
“On what?” Ron demanded.
“Whether or not I deemed you a threat,” the Admiral answered coolly. “I do not tolerate threats aboard my ship, Mister Parker.”
There was a darkness in that promise, the darkness of someone who had already gone to terrible lengths and was willing to go further still. Ron prepared to offer the file out, then thought better of it. “I opened my soul to you, recounted the worst days of my life. I think that justifies an answer to two questions.” That seemed a meager demand for fairness, but the Admiral still said nothing, just stood there as stoic as before.
“Why did you pull your file out of the archives?” A tactician like him had to have a reason. “You knew what Amelia was after, so what didn’t you want her to see?”
For a long, long moment, Admiral Gives was set on not answering, but he knew that no matter what he did or did not say now, there was a strong likelihood Amelia would find the truth on the Badger. After all, the reason Captain Merlyn hated him and the reason his brother had outcast him from the family were one and the same. Merlyn had the answers to the questions Amelia kept trying to ask. “I will answer this on the account that it may become relevant, Mister Parker. But, I am trusting your discretion, as it remains a somewhat personal matter,” and he did not often discuss personal matters.
Perplexed, Ron nodded.
The Admiral allowed his posture to slump slightly, and turned to the lamp that hung above the table, not enjoying this reminder of the past. “As a member of the fleet, I’m sure you heard about the Yokohoma.”
“The civilian passenger liner that went down in a weapons misfire?” He’d heard about it. They used it as a harsh lesson about weapons accountability in training.
“That would be the censored version, Mister Parker.” That was how Command’s propaganda machine had spun it. “But I understand your hesitance to discuss the rumors.” Nobody wanted to look the former Fleet Admiral in the eye and accuse him of mass murder. “All I will say is that what happened to the Yokohoma was indeed not an accident.” The rumors were right on that account. Those civilians had died by intention. “Captain Merlyn’s family was on board. So was Amelia’s mother.” They had all been victims of the Yokohoma’s tragic end.
“My brother was kind enough not to tell Amelia how her mother died. She doesn’t know I was involved, but in the presence of Captain Merlyn, she may find out.” He turned again to Ron, “In such a case, you may need to be the level head.”
As many questions as he had, Ron held them back. He could sense further questions on that subject would be unwelcome. That answer was enough for now. “And the other thing.” A question Ron hoped would be less inflammatory, “What is it with you and this ship?”
An instinctive tension returned to the Admiral’s shoulders, thoughts turning defensive. “You are going to have to be more specific, Mister Parker,” he said, drilling Ron with a cold stare.
Ron refused to be intimidated. At the moment, the Admiral had a use for him, and that granted him some level of safety. It had to, right? He found it in him to smile, turning the Admiral’s earlier words against him, “That is to ask, why? Why would you choose to stay on this ship?” Even now, alone against the worlds, he had chosen to make his stand on this ship. “You were the Fleet Admiral for more than twenty years. You had your pick of any ship in the fleet. Hell, Command would have built one of your very own design, but still, you chose to stay here.”
It struck Ron as odd, even more so in the man’s emotionless presence. There was plenty enough evidence that the man was a sociopath, and sociopaths were rarely so attached to anything. And yet, he had stayed aboard this ship. He’d become notorious for his ruthlessness when it came to protecting her, and gone so far as to repeatedly deny Command’s personnel from working on her at space dock.
“I’ll admit the Singularity is more than I expected, considering the rumors.” She’d handled her battle against the fleet well, despite being badly outnumbered. “But I’ve seen the Olympia, Admiral.” She was as grand as a temple, as maneuverable as a minnow and as precise as a laser cutter. Pitting her against the Singularity was like striking a flawlessly forged katana against a worn broadsword. The latter was expected to shatter. “I was there when they tested Thunderbolt.” He’d seen the Olympia’s legendary flagship weapon fire. “If that thing so much as touches you, it’ll all be over, but I think you already know that.” The Admiral wouldn’t have reacted the way he had in the Homebound Sector if he hadn’t known that. “A man like you always has his reasons. So, why would you stay here?” Especially when a ship like the Olympia could have been his to command?
“This is the finest ship humanity has ever seen.” It was an honor to serve as her commanding officer, to have been chosen for that role.
“You truly believe that, I think, but that doesn’t answer the question, Admiral.” That was a dodge, and they both knew it. “You could have built one even more powerful than her.” A ship with the Singularity’s strength and speed, but with the Olympia’s advanced weaponry and defenses. Ron could only imagine the possibilities. “You could have upgraded and modernized her, made her worthy again of the flagship title.”
“She was never not worthy.”
That low growl was enough to rip Ron from his curious thoughts. Nothing spoke of danger like a lone wolf with hackles raised.
That damn question, asked by so many, so often, made the Admiral’s blood boil with anger he could barely restrain. They all thought he should leave, that this machine wasn’t good enough for him. “You and the rest of the worlds. The entirety of humanity. You all think that this ship is not good enough. You all think that she should become something else, anything else because you can’t stand to look at her the way she is – the living memory of the crimes humanity forced her to commit, slathered in the bodies and blood of innocents. But the truth is, no matter what she becomes, she will never be good enough. Not for any of you. No matter how she looks, how she is used, you will still want something else, something more to change because at her core, in the eyes of humanity, she will still be the weapon of shame that drowned the Frontier in blood.”
“Humanity cannot and will not forgive her for that, no matter how many ships she rescues from asteroid fields, no matter how many planets she saves from starvation and sickness. You would sooner tear her apart than thank her at all for saving humanity during the War, and it disgusts me.” It made him hate his people more than he already did.
And maybe that seemed like an overreaction on the account of a machine, but knowing what he did… He couldn’t help it. “This ship has never failed me. She has seen me through more hells than I can even recall. And so, to say that I should walk away, to say that I should force change unto her, it is a betrayal of the worst form.” It made him so beyond angry. “Do not tell me that she isn’t strong enough, fast enough or powerful enough. Do not tell ME that she isn’t enough when she has always BEEN enough in every fight, every battle, and every war that the damned whole of humanity has put her through.”
The poison in those words pushed Ron a physical step back. Even without raising his voice, he spat them with such disgust that Ron didn’t know how to react. Could the Admiral really despise humanity so much?
“Do not ask me why I would STAY, when the real question is why would I LEAVE?” He was so sick of the doubt, the fear, and the disgust humanity presented to her, a machine that had served their every intention without failure. He snatched the folder from Ron’s terrified grip. “Pack your bags. Tell Amelia the same. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll be the hell off my ship before 0700 tomorrow.”