Chapter 5:
Mihajlovich looked at the comms officer who immediately cut the connection,
A displeased Adams spoke out.
“Are you going to relinquish command now Mihajlovich, are you done, are you going to”
“No”
Mihajlovich cut him off.
“You have been in charge of this fleet for six years, six long years. Have you ever wondered why the crew of this ship, or should I say this entire fleet, does not respect you?”
Adams was thinking of an answer, but Mihajlovich continued.
"You have been here for six years of peace, as a stand-in. You did nothing to earn their respect. This is the Death Fleet, the exterminators. The medical records are sealed, but I know for a fact that forty percent of the fleet has PTSD. You saw the traumatized crew members going to the sickbay. What did you think? That they are going there because of a slight headache? You were not here, Adams. YOU WERE NOT HERE!"
Mihajlovich decided to let out his emotions.
"What did you think? I know what you think. That we are a bunch of cold murderers, without empathy, without remorse. We are monsters, and you in your mind, I'm sure, think that you are here to keep the monsters at bay. But you are wrong. I gave more than thirty years of my life to this fleet, twenty of those years leading it. You didn't witness the suicides, finding members of your crew hanging in their quarters, the slit wrists. You didn't witness your third in command, your friend, someone you consider family, blowing their brains out next to you, right on this bridge, in that chair you're sitting right now. You were not the one who was sent to kill civilians, women, and children, glassing planets. You were not ordered to commit xenocide. I was. This crew was. I've been here. I pressed the button that killed ten billion people, not you, ME!"
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"This crew respects me. I was the one sending letters to parents, that is if there were any to begin with. You did not read the reports. I know you earned your rank, but not in this fleet, not for these soldiers. You think that the blockers helped? You think you can pump your crew full of drugs, turn them into killing machines, send them out to murder, and you think they will return to normal from the mission?"
"The blockers work, but you think the crew didn't remember what they had done, that they just forgot the blood on their hands? They felt everything, every pull of the trigger, every life taken, every face whose eyes they closed forever. You think it was easy? You think we all just casually continued with our lives? No, we did not. Do you know when I started taking blockers, Adams? Eight years ago. I was sober during the entire time, during my full service to this fleet and Terra. I had never taken a single pill. I was aware of all of it, since the lives we took meant something. I was there for my crime, my sin. After the war ended, I couldn't take it anymore. You fought in battles. I ORDERED THE SLAUGHTER OF CIVILIANS! With the hope of convincing these soldiers that their hands were somehow clean. You can't begin to understand. These brave men and women owe me nothing, but they know me. Even if I am no longer half the man I once was, they would still follow me into the pits of hell, because I earned their respect. I bled with them, I cried with them, I mourned with them. They are the only family I know. I am the only father some of them ever knew. I earned my seat, you didn't, not in this fleet. So do me a damn favor. I never asked you for one, but I'll ask one now. Take your seat, please shut up, and follow my orders."
Then he screamed.
"IS THAT CLEAR?"
A shudder ran through Adams. For the first time since he was assigned to the fleet, he never felt it before, but he felt it now. He had a moment of clarity. Mihajlovich could kill him here and now, and none of the crew would move a muscle. He was not their Admiral, Mihajlovich was. So he composed himself and took a deep breath, then he saluted.
"Understood… sir."