They all shift on their feet.
“Acceptance of this appointment will remove you from the subjugation of the refugee camp hardships. Give you a chance to strike back at those who destroyed your homes.”
Clearly not sure of the proper procedure, one of the aliens raises his hand and waves in a question. “Your mightiness…Sir. What about our families?”
“If you accept this appointment, your training will go beyond standard Academy instruction. As for your families, those allowed inside the Riftgate must have viable employment. We’re not a social welfare system. Complete the training and your families will be processed in and found residence inside. Until then we have camps on Taygete III where they will have suitable accommodations.”
“But they stay in the refugee camp until we pass the course. How long does it last?”
“It will take six months,” Kantian says.
One of the aliens steps back into the transport shuttle to be returned to Taygete III. The others are marched off for processing.
“More have chosen their families over bettering their station. You don’t have many to spare if they ice out of the program,” Resgram says.
“I’ll have my elite force when the time is necessary. Has he arrived?”
“I’ve had him escorted to your personal office,” Resgram says.
••••••
ADMIRAL KANTIAN WAITS until the doors seal. “I don’t care if you are a founder of the Confederation and beloved by the masses. I am in charge of the Outer Dimension fleet, and you have no authority to countermand my orders.”
Maxtin’s ancient face displays no response to the anger growing from the Osirian deemed worthy to replace his oldest ally.
“I don’t mind the detail of dealing with the Gavertins. You want to break in the officer. But you overstepped your authority countermanding my orders to secure the Hypershuttle and the Silver Dragon. Both were in violation of UCP space.”
Despite Kantian’s raised tone, Maxtin remains pastoral. “You are only Acting Coordinator. You haven’t been elected to be a Vice-presidential Admiral and officially appointed.”
“I am Admiral Easter’s proxy. You undermined my authority.”
“Hasty snap decisions must be made based on information given. You have yet to acclimate to your position, and quick action was needed.” Maxtin never sways from the “don’t make me lose my cool” father tone.
“Needed to protect your assets? Or was it to cover up another turncoat operative.” Kantian’s invitation fails to yield much information on Ki-Ton if Maxtin calls his bluff. Much of the political arena depends on formulating a convincing bluff.
“I understand now which side of the fence you stand upon.”
“What do you mean?”
“You understand I will never be summoned by you again. I did out of respect, or even to confirm I support you in your actions of being acting ODC. Until you are elected, my rank supersedes yours, and if I choose to override your commands to protect the UCP from dangers you have yet to grasp—I will make those choices,” Maxtin says. “Share with me now your feelings because after this meeting I will never again take them into consideration. We have counselors on staff for such pointless utilizations of one’s emotions.”
“And you brought such cold people into the UCP when you stole my victory at Summersun.”
“I don’t keep score over such actions, but the Deliverance was dead in space. Had the Mokarran maintained orbital control of the system, the armistice would not have been signed. And you would have brought the UCP into the Throgen/Mokarran War,” Maxtin says.
“We have the fleet to defeat the Mokarran and liberate a thousand worlds,” Kantian says.
“Osirians have no grasp of the larger universe. Study the Throgen invasion tactics. Our fleet is no match for them.”
••••••
“SIR?” RESGRAM NOTES the shift in Kantian’s demeanor once Admiral Maxtin departs.
“Command gripes go up, not down, out of respect. You’ve been compiling the list I requested?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Who in Admiral Maxtin’s camp could we sway to our perspective on dealing with the Mokarran?”
“None. He makes all appointments and uses telepaths to check for loyalty. Anyone who could read him won’t betray him, Sir,” Resgram says.
“None. Not even any of my crew?”
“Much of the Deliverance crew has been placed on leave or dispersed throughout the fleet. The Admiralty are pushing the combat experienced into command positions,” Resgram reports.
“No amount of training fully prepares a person for the actual experience. My crew held it together at Summersun. Outmatched. The Mokarran slaughtered so many.”
“We had the capacity to handle combat.” Resgram reminds the Admiral he, too, was a part of the conflict.
“Admiral Maxtin flew a combat fighter during the Battle of the Twin Suns. Many of those troops were green until the Mokarran turned on them.”
“Maxtin must be dealing with his concerts of ageing command being replaced by untested officers. The UCP avoided war for thirty years. All these young officers have never faced down a gun barrel.”
“He brought the Zayars into the Confederation. Even with a thirty-year gap, they will have fought Mokarran.”
“Zayars won’t command other species. And the few joining the Academy won’t fare well in cooperation exercises. Maxtin has other contingencies. Even he knows we won’t avoid conflict with the Mokarran.”
“He views a greater conflagration with the Throgen Empire, or so the scuttlebutt renders,” Resgram adds.
Maxtin told me as much. “Our pressing concern is defeating the Mokarran. If nothing else to prevent the flow of so many refugees. Thousands more arrive every day.”
“We test and offer Academy posting to the highest candidates,” Resgram says. “And you have your special program, Sir.”
“We build our own military with such placements.” Kantian ponders. “Get me legal experts on the Summersun armistice treaty. I know it forbids the export of UCP weapons, but what if we trained these refugees in combat and returned them home? Do we violate our arrangement?”
“I’ll prepare an assessment team. You have more staff reviews to complete, Sir. Admiral Easter’s illness prevented her from assessing those reaching promotional status,” Resgram says.
“How long has she been ill?”
“I don’t
