Months had passed since the battle and Edward had viewed the official founding of the IFC on TV while cradling a drink in a temporary bunk with David. They hadn’t let him on any shore leave whatsoever, however. Constantly throwing up excuses about his condition, the need for him to be present in case anything else happened, or some such thing. With nothing moving at all.
He had gotten no real answers, no new assignments and had just left him aboard the space station for nearly two months. Having to while away the time by painting and playing a few games with David and Alex. He had also managed to read a few books as well. But no matter what he did the question of what they were keeping him around for lingered in his head until…
"Congratulations on your promotion!"
“W... W- what?"
Captain, now rear admiral Edward Fletcher blinked a few times with his blue, sleep-deprived eyes. It could not be said that the last few years of war and space travel had been kind to him. His skin had been left pale from the months upon months spent in a ship, his brown hair messy and long. Though that was something he liked to have. But his face still wore marks of healed cuts and bruises from the final battle a few months on.
From across the desk inside of this office, with the rest of the space dock in view outside of the porthole window, was the tanned face of vice admiral Oliver; whose body was far better kept than Edward's. He laughed, a broad smile creeping across his face, "I get that look, I looked the same when they came to me and offered me a promotion and transfer from US Navy commodore to Space Force rear admiral. And here I am now promoting you to rear admiral of the in-ter-nation-al federal commonwealth space fleet! Quite the circle of life I’d say!"
It finally sunk in. The Outwardly well-mannered British officer letting out, "Oh fuck. " In distinctly less well-mannered Yorkshire accent.
At that, the Californian broke down into laughter, being completely taken over for a good 30 seconds before finally calming himself, "You got it now?"
The rear admiral swallowed, "I think I have now." in a more "proper" received pronunciation accent.
Edward had a weird mix of an accent. Being brought up in the North, his parents had decided to try and raise him with a more "sophisticated" accent for job prospects, but living in Sheffield, and having the general distaste for the South that most people had anywhere above some line that fluctuated between Birmingham and Derby depending on who you asked, had also developed a strong Yorkshire influence that fluctuated in prominence. It was something he could never get David to shut up about the bastard.
But such thoughts were out of his head at this point as the conflicting emotions of the childish glee of knowing you're now in command of a fleet of starships, mixed with the more adult dread of the increased workload. All combined with one final emotion.
"Why did they think it would be best to promote me?" That for all he had done, he didn't deserve it.
Oliver only smiled and chuckled again, "Well dare I say it now but you're a war hero!"
"Well I'm not quite sure about that" he said.
"What do you mean? When Admiral Makarov and his second was blown up with his ship you took the initiative and took command, ensuring the success of the flanking manoeuvre and taking disabling the Russian and Chinese artillery cruisers!"
"And it wasn't my plan-"
"But you drove it through to its completion and have gotten recognised for it, take it."
Edward sighed, letting it be shoved to one side for the moment.
"So that's the surprise then... Well I guess I'll have to have David and Alex transferred over-"
Oliver interrupted him again, raising one hand, "Got the initial paperwork on that, all you need to do is sign your sheets and file them."
"Oh good, so I suppose I can have my leave now..." he relaxed for a moment, that was until he saw Oliver's face. "You have got to be fucking joking."
He shook his head, "Oh no, you've got work to do."
Edward felt himself start to slip away, "W- what on earth do they need me for!?"
"Well, something not on earth for a start."
He stammered for a moment, glaring at Oliver's beaming smile, "Well of course I know that and you know what I mean!"
"Well they want you on an operation-"
"What operation!! The war is over! Earth is unified! What is there for us to do!?"
Oliver opened a draw and pulled out a file, on which was stamped in bold letters, "Top secret"
Edward's eyes widened, "They want me on black ops missions?"
"Not something quite so hush-hush. These files are going to be ready to access for most military personnel in a few days and the media a few weeks after that."
He steadied himself, starting to calm himself down "So... What IS this then?"
“Do you remember the seven colony fleets we sent out at the start of the war?” Oliver’s face grew serious.
“The Generation 0 hyperdrive ones that we haven’t heard from yet…”
“Those ones.”
“Did those drives get withdrawn because they ripped those fleets to pieces?”
“One of them did, the rest… The rest are in various states.”
His eyebrow and interest raised, “Oh?”
“Fleet 1 settled in the Proxima Centauri b as planned with only the expected problems, they currently have a settlement in the habitable area of the planet and are alright. Fleet 3. Fleet 3 got sent back in time fifty years and currently has a thriving settlement on their planet, which they decided to name “Freedom’s Plain” for some reason-”
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“Hyperdrives are fucking time machines!?” He spat
“Today’s been a lot for you hasn’t it?”
Edward had lost his composure again and was nearing hysterics, “Yes, I think it had been quite the day so far! I didn’t expect this bomb to be dropped on me. A battle I can do, but this?”
“Well hold on, we have more.” Oliver said, raising a finger, “Fleet 4 went back 38 years to TRAPPIST-1e and whose message was the one who alerted us to all of this, with the colony established but having issues along with having its escorting frigate destroyed. Fleet 5 was disabled upon their arrival to Teegarden c, with a few malnourished survivors remaining on the few ships that weren’t too damaged. Fleet 6 was completely shredded with all ships going down with all hands lost. And fleet 7 is something command might tell you about later.”
“Holy fuck…” he muttered under his breath, slumping back into his chair with his mind swimming with questions and thoughts. Some of them had been successful? His childhood dream had come true but at the same time, the complete disasters that had also come from it and the actual reason for the drive’s withdrawal… But now’s not the time to get off topic. “So, I suppose I have something to do with fleet 2 then?”
“Well fleet two arrived at their destination of Caelypsus but were probably damaged, some people say that the fleet was split as well, with one part arriving sooner than the other. But the main part we have pinned down as having arrived approximately 540 years in the past, and have ended up devolving to a set of medieval kingdoms around the northern temperate zone. It's mostly- eh whatever!”
“You’re not interested in that?”
“Not at all, though I guessed you would.” He chuckled, “But your main objective is the First Kingdom of Aviria, as the name suggests, the first civilisation on the planet and is just a typical feudal kingdom with apparently a close link to the planet’s dominant religion. This is our target.”
Edward nodded, “And I will provide orbital-based support for this?”
“No, you’re the commander of this operation and you are to annex them via diplomatic or military means.”
“T-they are giving me?”
“Yes” Smiled Oliver, his eyes practically sparkling “This is going to be the first trial of your command.”
“Again! Why? How am I qualified for this? Did they think since I’m British I’d have some sort of natural native subjugation powers?”
Oliver laughed, yet again breaking down before recovering “Oh! I’m not entirely sure of the reasons either but I think they want someone with some sort of reputation to them, unlike me, and who has some sort of knowledge in these sorts of societies and you’re someone who has both of them and doesn’t need to be immediately concerned with mopping up all of the troubles in the admiralty and fleet, unlike me! You should really be a little grateful for this.”
“Still, I’ve been promoted in the same meeting as I’ve been given this assignment! Surely, they could have given me some time to adjust.”
“Well, I think high command will give you their full reasoning on why they want this done now when they want to. But look up, you’re fighting an inferior foe and have just gotten a promotion, you’re getting what I would call a fairly cushy position.”
“The logistics are going to be a nightmare.” Edward sulked, his mind filling with all of the paperwork he’d have to do and all of the extra work Alex would have.
“It won’t be that bad, and anyway I haven’t even told you about your new command or what materials you will have for this.”
“I have a new command?”
“Of course, you do! You are being placed in command of the new second expeditionary fleet made up of four new Tribal class destroyers out of the Royal Space Fleet yard, as well as the new Town class light cruiser ICNS Sheffield.”
“Holy shit.”
“You’ve said that before! Excited, are you?”
“Oh… I think I might be”
“And you’ll be getting more ships to that when they’re completed, so you have yourself quite the command.”
“So, what else do I have for this op then?”
“Well, you have the usual set of support ships like refinery ships and what have you, but you’ll have an er, “converted” carrier and the 21st marine battalion. Now from what I have gathered, they’re quite the set of good troops, they even have a company of Black Suits with them. You will also get a diplomatic detachment for your fleet as well though that will apparently take a bit. Though command has also allocated Brigadier General Victor Lavr Vasilievich’s 146th Mechanized Brigade, a full 5,500 men with tanks, IFVs, artillery, the lot, on standby if things go south and you decide military action is needed.”
Edward leaned back in his chair, a slight smile creeping across his face, “So, not so bad then… Is that all?”
“That’s all Admiral. I’ll be looking forward to the first admiralty meeting you’ll be at.”
He laughed, getting up from his chair as he met Oliver’s outstretched hand and shook it.
“Same here!”
“Well then, all your insignia and such will be in your room, don’t forget that document and you are dismissed.”
----------------------------------------
The admiral walked out of Oliver’s office and sighed, all of the pressure bearing over him being let go as he took a deep breath. Well, this is quite the task… A military operation of questionable nature, a new command and rank, some currently top-secret information… And here he was, at the age of 25, wanting to sit on a canal boat and have a nice break. He was ageing far too fast.
Sighing once again he got walking, his boots clanking against the floor plates as he passed officer after officer. Most of them with newly sewn-on patches and similar looks of confusion on their faces as Edward, searching around the officer’s quarters on the station. He couldn’t help but think about how many of these people were replacing dead captains, commodores and admirals, hell that might have been why he was promoted. Command giving him the rank of his previous commander after he showed some sort of aptitude in the battle…
L3O105… L3O104… L3O107… L3O106- There! His new office and quarters, when he was off ship, that is. But, time to open the bulkhead…
It was quite a small and bare room, with only a desk, set of storage lockers and shelves, a door into the bedroom and another into the bathroom, neither of which he guessed would be any bigger and a shoebox. But space on stations and ships is limited, so having a personal bathroom with a shower and a private bedroom, along with the possibility of getting a kettle, is an extreme luxury.
So, as he slumped into his office chair and looked at all of the boxes and letters on his desk, he thought he should consider himself lucky… Well, presumably this was his new commonwealth-style dress uniform and patches, and well, they were quite the sight. He should probably thank Oliver for putting that order through as well, just another thing… But the royal navy-inspired rank insignia the IFC space fleet had gone for was something that no matter what made him feel a little happy. The large and bold golden stripe with a second, thinner one with a loop in the band stark against the black uniform. Lying on top of them were the shoulder boards, laid out in their own padded box. The gold shoulder boards were decorated with two silver stars, a sword crossed with it’s sheath and above it, the insignia of a silver star surrounded by a green wreath and a gold chevron over the star. There was even the fleet’s patch in another box, given to him for his duty uniform, a fleet of ships on a starry background over an alien world…
Then finally, out of all of the new uniforms and insignia, the medals… The silver and gold things stared at him, a war medal, a battle medal, and now. Now the invite to receive one of the first issued “Medal of the Commonwealth”. Fucking Christ, a medal of honour equivalent for him!?
“Oh my dear fucking… I wish I had a fucking god I could curse at now… Oh fuck-”
And an invite to be with Makarov’s family when his posthumous one is handed out… No, no, no, this day has gotten worse, far worse than he could imagine. First a promotion from nowhere, then all leave for the foreseeable few months at least has been cancelled and it's back to a warzone and third, third is an unearned medal of the highest order ready to be presented to him in New York!
He slumped back into his chair, his body going completely limp as he tried to not think about everything and failed. It was just all too much rolling around inside of his brain to not. So hence there was only one other alternative that did not involve mind-altering drugs, including copious amounts of alcohol; getting on with a bit of the actual work.
First up then would be arranging a meeting with the other two to get everything straight with them, then the medals, getting simple plans, then getting the commissioning done and finally actually meeting with everyone else involved and getting ready to go. Not all that bad for someone with better organisation skills than him.