10 - Garza

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The lights turned on as Admiral Garza walked into the conference room. His lieutenant followed him in saying, “The other admirals are already on, sir. I believe they’ve heard about the Mime, sir.”

     Garza sighed. “Thank you, Lieutenant. Listen in from the other room.”

     “Yes, sir.” The lieutenant stepped out, the door closing behind him.

     Garza sat down in one of the three conference chairs and appeared in the middle of a heated argument.

     “—is really wonderful, Theora. You’ve done an outstanding job,” said Admiral Brenner in a voice dripping honey laced with venom.

     “Oh, yes, sarcasm is really helpful right now, John,” replied Admiral Haslie.

     Admiral Brenner’s retort was lost amidst the argument being had by the rest of the admirals.

     “I still don’t see how we can possibly—”

     “That’s because you haven’t bothered to actually think about—”

     “He’s right though, how can we—”

     “What do you mean, ‘he’s right’—”

     Garza coughed politely. This did not have the desired effect. “Admirals!” he bellowed. Silence descended as they turned to look at him. “What seems to be the problem?”

     They all spoke at once.

     “Theora is completely—”

     “The plan is falling—”

     “We haven’t got—”

     And so on.

     “Admirals!” Garza bellowed again. He smiled benignly. “Let’s try that again. What is the problem?”

     This time only Brenner spoke. “Whorley has caught the Mime.”

     The admirals stared at Garza expectantly, except Haslie who stared at her hands, which rested on the tabletop. Garza looked around at them, then directly at Brenner. “And? That was his mission, was it not?”

     “Yes, but you know what I mean. That was supposed to keep him occupied—Theora was supposed to keep him occupied. Now, he’ll be floating around Capitol for the next couple weeks. Theora really f—”

     Garza cut him off. “Admiral Haslie and I have already discussed this, and we will find another way to keep him occupied.” He smiled again and shifted his gaze around the table once more. “Now, it seems that—”

     “And just how are you going to keep him occupied this time?” interrupted Brenner. “I think we all need to—”

     “No, we don’t all need to know,” said Garza sharply. “We each have our part. He’s just one man. It’s one bloody ship. We have nearly a thousand. We are not throwing away this opportunity because some of you are afraid of Jim Whorley. He will be handled, and it will NOT be brought up again!” He held Brenner’s stare until the other man nodded his understanding. “Good,” said Garza. He put on a brittle smile, though he doubted anyone was fooled by it, and tried to recover some patience. “Now, it also seems that some of you have reservations about our plan. What—”

     “Well, it’s not really our plan is—”

     It was one interruption too many, and Garza cut off the speaker by pounding his fist on the table. Admirals were like children, get enough of them together and chaos reigned. His smile broke into an angry grimace, and his voice carried a generous portion of his pent up annoyance. “Admirals,” he said. “I want this to be understood very clearly. This is our plan. Yes, it was my idea, but, as none of you have proposed so much as one workable modification, it will continue to be our plan. That being said, what exactly are your concerns? Admiral Estes?”

From there, the meeting devolved into petty positioning as to whose contributions to the plan were more important. After some careful ego-stroking, Garza managed to end the meeting almost amicably. He kept Haslie on after the other admirals left.

     “I know—”

     Garza cut her off with a gesture. “Shut up.” He glared at her and drummed his fingers on the tabletop while she stared at her hands. “We nearly lost them because you can’t control one of your captains.”

     She met his glare. “It’s Jim Whorley,” she spat angrily. “The entire Admiral’s Board can’t control him. So, if you know a way, then please share. I’d love to hear it.”

     “It’s not your concern anymore. I will handle it.”

     “He’s my—”

     “Not. Your. Concern.”

     She met his glare for a few moments, then left the table.

     The holo-projected extension disappeared, and Garza leaned back in his chair, letting out a heavy sigh. After a few moments, the door slid open and his lieutenant walked in. “Thoughts, Lieutenant?”

     “That did not seem to go as well, sir.”

     Garza frowned and let out another sigh. “No, it did not. They’ll do what they’re supposed to though.”

     “Will they, sir?”

     Garza turned his chair, threw a questioning look at the lieutenant. “Still doubtful, Lieutenant?”

     “Isn’t that why you have me listen in, sir?”

     “Yes, I suppose it is.” Garza sat up and gestured to one of the other chairs. “Take a seat. We need to come up with a plan to get the Titan out of the way.”

     “Yes, sir.” The lieutenant sat in the indicated chair. “I had an idea about that, sir. Have you ever met Commodore Speare?”

     “Isn’t he the one with the lights?”

     “In a way, sir. That was a prank he played at the academy. In any case, he was once Captain Whorley’s CO, and it’s my understanding they’re good friends and . . .”

     An hour later, the lieutenant walked out to set his plan in motion.

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