William Zellmann - Deagth ship quest

He rose and began pacing. “I seriously doubt it will take ten years. At any rate, when it happens, we mustn’t lose. If we lose, the fall could be immediate and catastrophic. Right now, the strategic comps say that if we fought the Alliance we’d lose despite our Fleet being more than twice as large as theirs.” He stopped and turned to Kas. “We’re too rigid. The only technology we have that’s not obsolete is what we’ve bought from the Alliance. Worse, our officer corps is dominated by hidebound, parade ground officers.” He stopped and turned to Kas with a grim smile. “You don’t disagree, I trust?”

Kas’ answering smile was slight but genuine. Commander in Chief or not, he was coming to like Pankin. “No, sir. I can’t disagree.” He sobered. “But since the empire sells commissions it’s inevitable. The fleet has become a dumping ground for the lazy and incompetents from wealthy families throughout the empire. It's also inevitable that those families would have the power and crowns to get them promotions and plum assignments.”

Pankin slid back behind the desk, nodding in agreement. “Exactly. The Emperor and I have been working on policy changes. Next month his Imperial Highness will issue a proclamation officially ending the policy of selling commissions. It’s taken us a long time to make sure we could control the backlash. Now we have enough support to force it through the senate. More and more senior officers will also be finding retirement in their best interest.”

He leaned forward on his elbows and his gaze became intense. “Several months ago I began reviewing the records of every officer in the fleet above the rank of Lieutenant. I’ve made two lists: a list of sycophants and political book officers that I’m encouraging to retire or resign. Those that won’t will find a career in the fleet no longer fits their lifestyle.

“The other list is shorter; those officers I think are competent and effective.” He snickered. “They also tend to be the ones the parade ground admirals don’t like. Their fitness reports frequently mention things like ‘lack of respect’, or ‘lack of polish’” He flashed a sardonic grin. “Would you care to guess which list features your name?”

Kas’s answered Pankin’s grin with his own. A fleet unhampered by the incompetents and sycophants that had controlled it for years. An opportunity for the fleet to become as expert as the Alliance navy. Wonderful! He squirmed excitedly in his chair.

Pankin smiled and nodded at Kas’ obvious excitement. “I thought you’d approve. At any rate, over the next few months I’ll find reasons to call the officers from the second list in so I can meet them. I want to confirm my analysis and form my own impressions. When the shoe drops the fleet must be led by competent, effective officers.” His smile faded. “We’ll need the best when the fighting starts.”

Kas’ excitement disappeared. He leaned forward with a frown. “Are you sure about the fighting, sir?”

Pankin nodded, his expression grim. “The only things we don't know are the timing and our opponents. I must admit I’d look forward to ganging up on that abomination calling itself the ‘Glory’”. His eyes narrowed with a predatory smile.

Kas’s frown darkened. “I hate to think about war with the Alliance, sir. They know everything there is to know about our equipment, weapons and even our tactics. They also know which officers are competent. My Alliance friends are my friends but if fighting breaks out they’ll fight, and fight with everything they’ve got.”

Pankin straightened and his hand smacked the desktop. “I hope one day soon they can say the same things about us. At the moment, the comps say they’d beat us hands down. That's why we must replace the incompetent officers. Besides preventing the waste of fleet lives, I want officers with the imagination and the initiative to improvise and to develop new tactics — tactics the Alliance knows nothing about.”

Kas straightened attentively. “Yes, sir. We’ve got them outgunned. But they have a leadership edge as well as a technological edge that we’ll never match.”

The Admiral slammed his hand on the desktop again, and sprang to his feet. “Damn it! You’re right, of course. Their star is rising, while ours is setting. That’s why I’m trying to divert the action to somewhere like the Glory where the Alliance can stay neutral or even ally with us.” He scowled and started pacing again. “Of course, chances are that even if we go to war against the Glory and win, those five systems will end up part of the Alliance. The old empire isn’t even dynamic enough to absorb five new systems. Or reabsorb five old ones.” He continued pacing for a moment, then seemed to realize he was doing it. He stopped, grunted, and returned to his desk.

“Now," he said in a businesslike tone. "some advice. It will take time to get rid of the dead wood. Meanwhile, those officers still wield a lot of authority. I can’t apply too much pressure without damaging the chain of command and you’re going to need an intact command structure.

“Almost every flag officer in the fleet will be gunning for you as a result of your little dustup with Lu-Jenks. Keep your head down and your mouth shut! Don’t provoke another court-martial because I may not be able to find a technicality I can use to bail you out.” Pankin smiled. “I will, however, make you a little harder to hit. Whether or not your career survives is up to you." His tone softened. "Take care, Captain. Don’t screw it up.

"Now," he continued “to more immediate matters. Does the name Vir Rekesh mean anything?”

“The man or the ship?”

Pankin chuckled. “The ship.”

Kas shrugged. “One of the great mysteries of the fleet. Stellar Class battle cruiser. She disappeared over a century ago. She… Sheol! Don’t tell me they’ve found her.”

Pankin smiled again. “Exactly. She’s drifting unpowered in a rim system with her plague beacon running.”

“Plague? Uh…”

Another chuckle. “Relax Captain. It seems that one of the last survivors was her Third Lieutenant.” Pankin’s voice softened. “He was a remarkable young man. I wish I’d been able to meet him." Pankin straightened, and his voice resumed its businesslike tone "Anyway, he and the other last survivors went completely through the ship, wedging open doors and hatches. They shut down systems and fusactors, shutting down more and more systems as the crew died.”

Pankin sighed deeply. “When only two crewmembers remained, the Third shut down the life support and even the ship’s Artificial Intelligence so it wouldn’t go insane in isolation. They suited up, and went around to all of the ship’s airlocks. The Third took the main lock himself. Then they opened the ship to space. The idea was to expose the entire ship to the hard vacuum and absolute zero of space in hopes of killing the plague bug.

Kas shook his head in wonder. “A gutsy man! I hope he gets the hero treatment he deserves.”

Pankin nodded. “The Emperor is plans to present an Empire Star after you being him back.”

Kas startled and his eyes shone with excitement. “You want me to bring back the Rekesh?”

“Exactly," the grand admiral replied. "But it’s not going to be as easy as it may appear. You’ll have competition.”

“Competition?”

Pankin frowned and started to rise, then caught himself and sat back down. “She was located by a tramp trader. Her captain investigated and went aboard as far as the lock. He found the Third’s body clutching a box of memory chips and ident disks. The captain grabbed it and retreated to his ship to play the log crystal. He was also well aware of the meaning of the ident discs.

“Naturally the trader’s crew knew they were rich. The salvage value of a battle cruiser will make all of them fabulously wealthy even after they fight the claims commission. So, they forgot their original mission and boosted for Prime, celebrating all the way in. They hit the bars in every port town, bragging about their find.”