Exiled With Honors
Admiral Quarren sat at his desk and stared gloomily at the data slate in his hand. Thanks to regen he was still in good condition, but he felt as if he was entering his third century, not his second. He was just over 2 meters tall and not in any way stopped with age. Grey did dust his temples and his leanness were more attributed to a determination to stay fit than regen, although regen certainly helped a lot with that. Unfortunately, the stress and anxiety of turning back the 13th Black Crusade had added immensely to his general sense of fatigue and had worn down his health. When the Chaos forces were finally forced to retreat back into the Eye of Terror he had almost a whole week of respite before he was hit with this.
He had long since had the information on the datapad committed to memory but it was his usual habit in such cases he hoped by going over it again he might find some different answers. Sometimes it even worked, but not this time. After a few moments he sighed and placed it back on the desktop and rubbed his tired eyes. No new answers presented themselves.
He was being set up for failure and there was little he could do about. In retrospect he admitted to himself that he should have seen it coming and prepared for it. He was after all the man that had led the Imperial Fleet to victory at the Eye of Terror. He had been well lauded and rewarded for that, but fleet politics were nothing if they weren't cruel, brutal and heartless. The higher persons' rank and fame, the more others made it their goal to raise their own rank and fame at their expense. Admiral Quarren was now a prime target. He played the political game well but in the frantic days of the 13th Crusade he spent almost all his efforts toward turning back the tide of Chaos and little enough playing politics to protecting his back. Now he was going to pay for it.
His reward for being the Hero of the Imperium (and putting duty before covering his ass) was to be given the command of an entire sub-sector of the Empire, the Santiago sub-sector to be specific. Being given command of an entire subsector was not something he could refuse. It also rather nicely put him far out of the political picture. He would be too far out to be able to have any ready influence on fleet politics. They called him and others like him 'hind sighted conservatives'. The truth of the matter was that the empire was corrupt and elitist and he and the others like him was the only thing keeping the Empire from regressing back to the time of Vandire. He needed to be in the political arena to be able to stop the Empire from slipping into the abyss.
Cut off from the rest of the Imperium for over 150 years by warp storms, it was certain that many of the systems in the Santiago sub-sector would have become rebels, apostates, Chaos worshipers, or any combination of those if not all three. Not to mention the ever present Xeno threats that would have been unchecked except for the forces on hand when the storms hit. They 'honored' him by creating an entire new fleet for him to use to bring the sub-sector back into the loving embrace of the Empire, a fleet that was made up of the dregs of every other fleet in in the Imperium.
All Fleet Commanders have some Captains they would like to do without and the call went out that this was the perfect chance to get rid of them. So he had an impressive (on data slate) fleet at his disposal. Only that the ships were all captained by the most incompetent, overly arrogant, inexperienced, unlucky, or just on someone's shit list, Captains that should never all be in the same spot at the same time ever. And yet here they were, and they were all his. He let himself have a small, grim smile; they did make one crucial mistake though.
At that moment his intercom chimed and his secretary's voice came through, "Sir, your 10 o'clock appointment is here."
"Very well then, send her in."
Commissar Stranzig was the Admiral's assigned Commissar and was a woman, but most people had to look twice to be sure. Her figure was almost undetectable due to the carapace armor and the standard Commissar's great cloak she wore. The warbelt she hung her weapons on did not emphasize her hips in any way. Her hair was cut short and at just under 2 meters, she was as tall as most men. The only real clues were in her face. Her chin was smooth and had obviously never felt the scrape of a razor, and her face in general was 'slightly' feminine. Most people didn't spend too much time looking at her face though due to the livid scar that ran from the top left of her forehead, down across the bridge of her nose and stopped parallel with her mouth on her right cheek.
She walked into his office like a contained thunderstorm, not that she was upset about anything in particular, that was just the aura she gave off. The Admiral's steward came out of the ready room, "Good morning, may I get, oh, it's you." He looked over at the Admiral, "Is there anything I can get for you before I leave?" When the Admiral shook his head he turned back to the Commissar. "If you want anything, it's in there." He indicated the ready room with a tilt of his head and then left the office.
What would have been unforgivingly rude to anyone else was completely acceptable to her, and in fact was the way she preferred it. She detested being waited on and the after effect of the first (and only) time he ever poured recaff for her left a lasting impression. They reached an agreement, he let her fend for herself except for things he had to do himself, and she let him live. He knew that any time she was in the office it was time for him to leave. That was also the way she preferred it.
The steward left and the Commissar approached the Admiral's desk and stared pointedly at the control pad on the desk. Admiral Quarren reached over and pressed two different combinations of buttons. The first set secured the door from being able to be opened from the outside; the second set activated the scramblers in the office so that any attempt to listen in by electronic means would get nothing but white noise.
Satisfied that the security measure were in place she took off her cap and tossed it on the desk, "Mind if I get comfortable?" The Admiral nodded and started to rise out of his chair. She shook off her greatcloak and negligently tossed it onto the back of a chair. By the time the Admiral had come around the desk she had also doffed her carapace armor and warbelt, letting them fall where they would. He swept her into an embrace and they kissed passionately. After a minute or more, they came up for air.
"This is suicidality dangerous." She purred to him.
He kissed her again briefly and said, "Yes it is. That is one reason you enjoy it so much."
Another kiss, "Guilty as charged." And then she brought her hands to his chest and reached for the buttons on his tunic. He reached up and took her hands in his.
"Not yet, we have work we need to get out of the way first."
Her expression never changed and she looked deep into his eyes, "I've killed men for less."
"I don't doubt that you have. But one of the things I like about you is your ability to prioritize. The reason you are here is to be brought up to speed on the fleet and personnel dispositions of our little excursion in the Santiago sub-sector. It would be rather awkward if we got distracted, never covered it, and then you weren't able to answer any questions about it later. Besides, I have already planned to have lunch brought in. When it is, you and I will be arguing over something and I will angrily tell my secretary to cancel all my other appointments for the rest of the day. I've discovered that the best way to keep people from interrupting you is to make them not want to. Few souls are brave enough to intrude upon an angry Admiral and an equally angry Commissar. We'll have all afternoon to ourselves." He walked over the couch and deliberately sat down at one end while gesturing her to take the other end.
"And one of the things I like about you is that battles aren't the only thing you know how to plan." She sighed, "All right, let's get this done. Be warned though, I will make you pay for putting me off." She reached down and collected up her warbelt and then took her place at the other end of the couch and after having kicked off her boots, tucked her legs up in a nicely feminine way that was decidedly uncommissarish. She placed her weapons within easy reach by the edge of the couch. Even here, she refused to break that habit. Making one last effort to distract him she stretched in that feline way, arcing her back and stretching her arms above her head that women have done since the beginning of time to get a man's attention.
Quarren took his time to appreciate the view because without the carapace armor and only wearing the form fitting under armor undershirt on her torso, she had a very attractive figure, but he would not allow himself to be overly distracted. He picked up a dataslate from the recaff table and activated it. "Oh, by the way, thank you for finding Commissar things to do while I was getting this all pieced together. You would not have officially approved of some of the things I had to do to get it arranged."
She shrugged, "It's how the game is played. Get started." She had her own intelligence sources; she knew more about the deals he made than he ever suspected. It was useful information to have in case it was ever needed.
"Well, if you ignore everything but the ship types and numbers, it is a pretty impressive fleet to be thrown together so soon after the 13th Crusade was turned back. We will have 5 battleships, 8 cruiser squadrons, a dozen escort squadrons, plus all the support ships a fleet that size will require. Because we're rebasing, we will also have extra transport capability for not only the move itself, but for additional supplies that we may need before we can secure a manufacturing base of our own in the sub-sector.
"And if you look closer?"
"To put it crudely, I'm being thrown over the barrel without lubricant. Despite appearing impressive, it is pitiful when you consider that I have to patrol, defend, and possibly even have to re-take an entire sub-sector. And that is not the worst of it. Word went out and was enthusiastically responded to, that any Fleet Admiral that had a ship or Captain that he wanted to get rid of; there was a place to send them. I have been sent ships that are in need of constant maintenance or repair, obsolete, unlucky, or even considered cursed. I even have the Headless Roughrider!"
"The what?"
"I'm sure it has an official name but that is the nickname it goes by. It is a Dauntless class light cruiser that has had its prow replaced five times."
"I get it now. It keeps getting its head cut off. I can see why they think it's cursed."
"Surprisingly, they, the crew I mean, don't. Everyone else does. In fact it's considered a bragging right if your length of service on the ship includes the highest number of prows." He shook his head with mild amusement. "Someone at Port Maw had a sense of humor the last time it went in. It currently has a Space Marine strike cruiser prow on it. Before you ask, it wasn't that hard. They just gutted the launch bay that was there and ran the lance battery out through the launch port. Aside from a rather distinctive profile, it also happens to be the only light cruiser in any fleet that can boast having an armored prow.
In addition to the gutter sweepings of the galaxy, I'll be having a fair number of Grand cruisers. They made such a fuss about giving so many of the powerful ships, like I couldn't see what they were doing."
"Ok, I'll bite, what is so bad about these 'Grand cruisers' and why have I never heard of them?" she asked a bit testily. She liked to think she was up to date with the various ship classes and it annoyed her that she did not recognize the term.
"Grand cruisers were built in the transition period between pre-Hersey ships and the current designs. They are more powerful than a Battle cruiser, but less powerful than a Battleship. They were also designed for battle tactics that are no longer used. Are you familiar with Captain Banks?"
"Basher Banks? The greatest tactician in the entire fleet, at least in his mind." She added sarcastically. "The man who no matter what the battle plan is will charge forward at full speed? Who doesn't know him?"
"Well they gave him command of an Avenger class Grand cruiser. Try to tell me that isn't deliberate sabotage!"
She sighed, "Ok, help me out again, why is that bad?"
"Let me put it another way, they gave a man who is famous for having only one battle plan; and that plan being 'all ahead and damn the consequences', the command of a ship that does not have an armored prow or any forward firing weapons!"
She just looked at him stunned. "Sweet Emperor." After a couple of seconds she gave herself a shake and said. "I have a good idea now of the Captains you're getting if he is an average example, sum up the ships for me."
"Five Battleships, one Emperor class, three Invincible class, and one Victory class. The Emperor needs 'minor' repairs. Minor as in 2 years at Port Maw or Emperor knows how long where we are going. Neither the port nor starboard batteries are operational. And they knew damn well that I can't refuse it no matter what shape it is in because it is an Emperor class. The Invincibles are Fast battleships. Fast as a light cruiser, armed like a battleship, not much sturdier than a normal cruiser. Throw them into the battleline and they go up in flames rather easily. Nothing unusual about the Victory other than it's being old and re-crewed like most of the other ships. All the experienced crews are being retained to build up after the losses in the campaign.
We have an unusual number of Grand cruisers but because of that they won't let us have any Battle cruisers. As for the rest, there is an unusually high proportion of Lunar class cruisers. They are a good all-around work horse, but not so great in one on one confrontations with other cruisers. The usual mix of classes' makes up the rest of the squadrons. Oh yes, I also have nine Dauntless light cruisers that are being converted to armored transports."
"Excellent." She gave him a predatory smile, "Now tell me how you're going to weave this bucket of shit into a cloak of gold."
He gave her a very theatrical pout and a hurt look, "My dear, I was expecting you to fall into absolute despair at our situation and then I would slowly draw you out of it by dazzling you with the brilliance of my political maneuvering. Then I would bask in your admiration. You've gone and spoiled it."
"I was expecting something too when I walked in here and you shut me down. I warned you payback was a bitch and you should know by now, so am I."
Without bothering to reply to that, he reached over to the recaff table and picked a data slate off of it. He scrolled partway down the data and tossed it to her. "Like all self-centered, power hungry megalomaniacs, they have a tendency to make mistakes. This was their first one. Let's start with the Captains again. They all but threw this person at me, insisting I take him. Don't look at the name and tell me what you think of him."
She deftly plucked it out of the air and began to read through it. After a couple of minutes she looked up at him with a puzzled expression, "Why would they insist you take this guy? This is an excellent service record. He would be a valuable asset to any fleet. I thought they were saddling you with the dregs?"
He nodded, "Now scroll up and check the name."
She did as he asked and he was very amused at the expression on her face as she read the name. "What! That fop? Are you sure this is correct?"
He smiled. "Yes, that fop. Underneath that seemingly fragile, precise, martinet, tea sipping exterior, Captain Pondsworth is one of the most effective ship Captains I have ever met. As for the other Captains I'm getting, a lot of them are simply problems I will have to deal with. Some of them though are being sent to me for no other reason than they angered a superior not because they are bad Captains. Their miss-deed was being right when they were wrong or simply good Captains that made those over them feel threatened that they might advance to replace them.
"Our most pressing problem with Captains is Captain Glostov, also known as Baron Glostov. He strives to take control of any situation and exploit any power that gives him."
He held up a hand, "I know, that sounds like every other Captain ever, but in his case he doesn't just gloat about what he can do, he actually uses that power. Blackmail, bribery, intimidation, assassination, all just tools for him. Worse still, his Commissar is completely in league with him and usually takes care of the assassinations for him because he can legally get away with it. He poisons everything he touches."
"What do you intend to do about him?"
"I've already done it. I've sent him and several other ships to re-supply and re-enforce Pondsworth. They're under his command on the way there but he has specific orders to place himself under Pondsworth's command upon arrival. He also has sealed orders from me to deliver to Pondsworth. Captain Pondsworth has been underestimated by everyone. Glostov won't know how to handle someone he can't bribe or threaten. If he reads those sealed orders, which I expect him to do; Pondsworth can deal with him in any manor he sees fit for breaching security and illegally reading sealed orders.
Commissar Griggs has also been seriously under estimated. He is much more intelligent and flexible that anyone suspected. From the reports Pondsworth has sent me and my own investigation, I can't think of anything that would intimidate him. If Glostov's commissar tries to threaten him, Griggs is likely to just kill him without a thought."
Stranzig nodded her head thoughtfully. It was rather cold blooded to use the Captain and the Commissar that way, but that was how the game was played at this level, ruthlessly. "I can see you have the personnel side of this pretty well thought out. Don't bother going over each Captain unless there is something significant you think I should know." She paused, "I take that back, what about Banks?" Captain Banks wasn't scheming, power hungry or even directly dangerous, just stupid. He didn't deserve to be put in a situation where he could be killed; he just needed to be removed from his ability to do much damage. If he had to be forcibly removed so be it, she wouldn't loose any sleep over it. But she did like to avoid unnecessary deaths. Necessary ones on the other hand, were dealt out efficiently.
"I've got that figured out too." He sat back so he could clearly see her face, "Once we get to the sub-sector and get settled, I'm going to give him command of the Emperor."
"WHAT!"
He knew he was enjoying this more than he should, but still couldn't resist. "Think about it. That ship is the Flagship for the fleet and it needs repairs. The repairs will keep it on orbit for an absurdly long time, and any time it does leave orbit it will have a flag officer in command who will keep a very short leash on the Captain. Banks gets a prestigious promotion that he won't turn down and then he is securely in a position where he cannot do any harm."
She wanted an answer, but that was truly not what she expected. "Still though, command of a Battleship?"
"One thing I seem to be good at is noticing things others overlook." He said rather smugly. "When people think of Captain Banks all the think of is the mess he makes of his ship every time he goes into battle. What they don't think of are his fitness reports, service logs, and his readiness reports. This may be a shock, but he actually is a very good Captain, just a horrible tactician."
"Good enough, now tell me what is wonderful about this horrible collection of ships."
"Well, let's go top to bottom."
He was interrupted by her softly purring, "Mmm, yes, let's do."
He glanced at her with exaggerated annoyance, "Without needless interruptions, this will go much quicker."
She looked back completely unrepentant, "We don't get a lot of alone time. I'm just trying not to waste it."
"You're wasting it now. I'm looking forward to it as much as you are, but business first. As I was saying, the battleships; there is really nothing special to say about the Victory class except that it is an ancient design and has a green crew. It has less lance armament than an Apocalypse battleship, but it is 25% faster. That's important, it can keep up with a cruiser squadron or if you look at it the other way, it won't slow a cruiser squadron down. The Emperor, even without the port and starboard batteries is still a formidable ship. As long as the launch bays work, I really don't have any complaint. They thought they were handing me useless ship when they gave me the Invincibles, but actually they are just what I need. They are fast enough to keep up with a Chaos cruiser if it tries to run and also fast enough to keep one from closing if it needs to. In short, if you don't throw it into the battleline and use it for what it was actually designed for, it is an amazing ship. We'll be able to chase down and destroy raiders that would slip away from normal cruisers."
"The Grand Cruisers are not really bad ships. They were just made to fight battles in a bygone era. They will be quite useful if used properly."
"And you'll see that they are, or else?"
"Exactly."
"Two things to consider next, first is that we have no Battle Cruisers because of the Grand Cruisers. The second is that we have a surplus of Lunar Class cruisers. Someone obviously forgot that you get an Armageddon Class battle cruiser by upgrading a Lunar class cruiser. If we can find or build the facilities to do that upgrade, we may actually find ourselves top heavy in battlecruisers. Nothing special to say about the other cruisers we're getting.
"We can thank the Voss Forgeworld shipyards for the extra Dauntless light cruisers we're getting." He said with a smile.
"Wait, Voss doesn't make Dauntless', they make Endeavours. Why are you thanking them?"
"Because the Endeavour is the latest 'new toy' for the fleet and it's a status symbol to have them. Other Admirals are dumping their Dauntless's on me so that they can demand replacement light cruisers from Voss."
"Won't that cut into your allotment of cruiser squadrons? Fast ships are nice but we will need the heavier stuff to complete the mission."
"They would if they were listed as combat ships. I'm having the weapon bays stripped off and replaced with cargo and troop bays. They are then reclassified as support ships."
She smiled, "I see, support ships that are as fast as anything in the fleet and have standard armor. I presume the lance batteries are still in place?" He just smiled. "Hmm, support ships that can go in with the assault and don't need other squadrons to protect them and can actually dish out some damage. I like it. What's next?"
"Only two items that you need to be aware of. The first is that because of the number of ships getting dumped on me, the cruiser squadrons and the escort squadrons as well are double strength." She cocked an eyebrow indicating that he should explain. "Easier than you might think. I keep normal sized squadrons in the assembly area and the overstrength portion busy flying from place to place. The actual strengths are correct in the fleet roster and I've seen to it that the data is buried deep. By the time anyone realized what I did it will be too late to recall them. Given the ships and Captains they gave me, I doubt they would take them back even when they find out. I also seem to have forgotten to include ships already sent to the Santiago sub-sector for reconnaissance, careless of me." His grin showed how he truly felt about that.
"What's next?"
"What's next the crowning glory of all the maneuvering to get us ready for this little adventure. I have secured a Ramillies Star Fortress. Please don't ask what I had to do to get that." A Ramillies Star Fortress was a powerful starbase and would make any system they moved it to all but impregnatable. It was vital in order to have a secure base of operations. How he got it was also something he really didn't want the Commissar to know the details on.
Commissar Stranzig made appropriate, appreciative facial expressions to show how impressed she was, but in reality she already knew. And it wasn't 'what' he did but 'whom'. Some women should not be allowed to resume their duties in the Administratium after a regen until after the hormones balance out again. Add to that a hard case of hero worship and for a few hours well spent he quite literally got anything he wanted. She was not jealous. Given who they were and the things they had to do to get things done, the concept of fidelity was ludicrous. She was quite fond of him (she didn't dare allow herself to think she was in love with him as she would be duty bound to execute him if circumstances required it) but it was not something she would allow herself to be upset about. Alone time with him was scarce and to be fair, when she got too lonely she had her on 'discrete' contacts.
Once again she asked him, "What's next?"
He tossed the data slate he had been reading from onto the recaff table and smiled at her in a rather encouraging way, "I don't know, why don't you tell me what's next?"
She didn't say a word; she just acquired a rather predatory smile, uncoiled from her position at the other end of the couch and proceeded to crawl towards him like a cat stalking an easy prey. That analogy is surprisingly accurate.