“You suggested something diplomatic,” [Person] noted.
“What, I can’t be diplomatic?” I asked, affronted. “I’m extremely diplomatic. I’m just brimming with diplomacy.”
“Of the Admiral Perry variety,” [Person] said.
“Gunship diplomacy is still diplomacy,” I protested.
“This is all very well for definitive terms,” reminded Captain Mij. “But when it’s us versus the humans, perhaps a more delicate version of diplomacy might be called for.”
“They’re closing on us,” noted K'cops. “Five thousand Rels.”
“Also, Admiral,” said the captain. “Gunship diplomacy is universally deplorable. You open fire on a weaker party, and you are reviled as a bully. You open fire on a stronger party and you’re lucky if there’s anything left to inter for a funeral. You open fire on an evenly matched party and you take your chances. Rattling sabres only really works until someone’s smart enough or stupid enough to call your bluff… which leads you straight back to the previous three choices. I told you when you started this ‘pleasure cruise’ of yours that I won’t be a bully and I’ll be a blob of grease only after you volunteer. Well you bloody volunteered, Admiral! Shall I throw you to the humans and take my chances or let us all become vapour in space?”
The Admiral, already slick with sweat, murmured a noncommittal noise.
“Four thousand, five hundred Rels,” intoned K'cops.
“I have a translation,” said Arahu. “According to the computer, the humans are angry because the Admiral opened fire on an unarmed transit shuttle. Full of school children.”
“Best effort message back,” said Captain Mij. “Match speeds with us, and we will send you the individual responsible.”
“MUTINY!” Bawled Admiral D'wolbarh. “Insubordination! I’ll have your stripes for this!”
Captain Mij sighed. “That would only work if you were assigned command of this vessel, Admiral. And only then if you weren’t retired. It’s a big, bad universe, Admiral. Much has changed since your days of Conquer by Command. For a start, we met a bigger, badder, meaner group of Deathworlders who would literally eat us alive if we tried the… idiocy… you did today. My best bet for a continuing peace between us and them is to gift-wrap the asshole who pressed the big, red button.”
“You can’t do this to me!”
“I can and I will, even if I have to stun you and cart you over piece by piece, Sir.” Captain Mij discretely hit the button to summon security before she stood up and advanced on the older woman. Backing her towards the vertical transit. “You opened fire without knowing the situation. You opened fire in direct opposition to the standing orders from Space Fleet Command. You opened fire, Sir, on an unarmed vehicle full of minors. I can and will do anything I please to you and Space Fleet Command will give me a firkin medal. Assuming we survive.”
“Human fleet stabilising at four thousand Rels distance, Captain.”
The security goons arrived, and Admiral D'wolbarh tried to fight. It was pathetic, especially considering the fact that Security was equipped with Stun Sticks as standard issue.
Captain Mij didn’t have to follow Security and the limp and twitching form of Admiral D'wolbarh to the best escape pod to fire her, alive, towards the waiting human fleet. She did not, having followed Security to the pod, make sure the Admiral was safely buckled in. Nor did she have to press the button that ensured a non-emergency release.
But she did all of that, anyway. And then she watched from a local screen display as the humans took the pod, the Admiral, and then took their leave. She watched until the human fleet was just a pinpoint of light in a sea of other pinpoints.
On one hand, it was a lucky escape. On the other hand, it was the definitive loss of a friend and mentor.
Captain Mij dismissed the Security detail and adjourned to her quarters. She had a letter to write to the Admiral’s husband and children.
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