If I want to be this ambitious, I need to make friends. It wasn’t that Rhys didn’t get along with superiors. He just never found a way to ingratiate himself to groups of them or their parties. The opportunities he’d been given never panned out. Politicians didn’t make sense to him. Frivolous talk had never been his strong suit. They call it small talk.
And that was part of his problem. Rhys looked down his nose at what he considered a waste of time. Command had been something he’d wanted since he joined the military. He had received his lieutenant’s commission at nineteen, one of the youngest in the service. Only one person beat him and they’d washed out after only a year.
The day he received his bars, he figured nothing would stop him from rising to the top quickly. Unfortunately, that had been the highlight of his career and the fastest he’d see a promotion for a long time. Still, rising to the rank of Commander wasn’t anything to sneeze at. It came with serious responsibilities and real prestige.
I always thought growing up on Earth would help. Many people suggested the Terran Colonial Navy favored those who came from their homeworld; that they received preferential treatment. That was not the experience Rhys had. In fact, it often proved to be a detriment when most other high ranking personnel grew up in the colonies.
Research on Titus Barnes proved that out. The man came from a farming community, a first generation military man, though his father had been part of their militia. He had risen through the ranks steadily, receiving his Captaincy around the time the Triton ended up in dry dock. Rumor had it the ranking officer had died, earning Titus a field promotion.
Considering the man was only thirty-nine, that made some sense. Rhys had celebrated his forty-second birthday only a month earlier. The fact the captain happened to be younger than him proved out more of his theory about colonials and how they had a leg up in the military. Either that or Titus happened to be good at the schmoozing.
I can’t have this attitude. Rhys felt guilty about it. He didn’t want to be that guy who held a grudge against someone who had found success before him. And maybe this isn’t such a great posting for him. He might not be thrilled about it either. He rolled his eyes. Who am I kidding? He gets to command a battleship. That’s not just an honor, it’s a dream come true.
Two soldiers hitched a ride on the shuttle as well. Corporals Vesper Wilson and Martin Tiller. They were fresh out of gunnery school though they’d scored well enough to jump rank. He didn’t know why they’d been selected for the Triton assignment. Their presence leant evidence to the prototype ship idea.
New ideas, new personnel. He’d seen that type of thing before. Back when they wanted to start using the automated turrets. They needed young people on standby to take control or even perform troubleshooting steps. A bunch of kids that weren’t on track for any sort of special assignment found themselves at the heart of a major project.
Tech people tended to make out when it came to testing new ideas. The soldiers were another story entirely. He quizzed them while they waited for the ship to launch earlier. They didn’t know what was going on any more than he did however, they were under the impression they were there for some sort of action.
Maybe we’re after a pirate gang. Or raiders. Rhys felt either of those would be a worthy use of their time. The secrecy didn’t seem to bother his companions but it definitely annoyed the hell out of him. I feel like they should’ve given me something more than in my briefing. This is ridiculous.
“Sir?” Tiller leaned forward. “Sorry to bother you. I was wondering… we were talking a minute ago and… I just realized. Are you… are you the officer who took down a pirate-run space station with an old tablet?”
That particular adventure had become a bolstered legend, one people embellished since it had happened years ago. He’d been a lieutenant assigned to ground teams. A space station had been taken by the enemy, hijacked along with some key personnel. Once he and his people had boarded, Rhys had discovered that intel had dropped the ball.
The pirates had claimed the automated defense systems, hacking the core systems. Trying to retake the central command would’ve involved battling through a tight corridor with energy turrets chipping away at them. That had led to his idea to take the system back. Rather than go for command, his people took the reactor.
His ‘legendary’ hack came down to unlocking the door the pirates hadn’t been able to manage. Once they were inside, they had full control. He shut off life support to the command center, locked it down, and within twenty minutes, he had them in custody after an unconditional surrender.
Hardly the stuff of legends. If I hadn’t been able to get through that door, I’d be known as the guy who got my entire unit killed.
“That’s a fabrication,” Rhys settled on, “but yes. That was sort of me.”
“Amazing.” Tiller nudged Wilson. “I told you. I feel much more confident about this assignment now.” He smiled. “We had a small bet, sir. She thought you were someone else, but I was utterly convinced. It’s an honor to serve with you… with someone who cares about the ground forces, especially.”
Rhys didn’t have a response for that. Fortunately, they set down in the Triton hangar, sparing him having to find a tactful way out of the conversation. The last five years calmed down the adoration he received, at least a little. That meant someone mentioned it with a nod and a thanks rather than going on about it.
The
