Eagle (Jacob Hull) (7 page)

“It is clear the Odurans are resuming their raiding tactics, especially around the area of Tiredel.” Jacob ignored the small stir of protest from Birshaw and the grumble of resentment from Sitati’s area of the room as well. He continued. “In response to escalation, we will be deploying the
Eagle
on an extended patrol of the region, starting with the system of Tiredel itself. My hope is to prevent further raids through deterring them, even if they bring heavier forces into play.”

He stopped when another officer, a partisan of Admiral Borgens if Jacob remembered correctly, raised his hand. “Yes, Captain Oororai?”

“Are you certain moving the
Eagle
to the conflict area will counter these raids? The flagship is not designed for smaller engagements or extended patrol. The Oduran League could very well see this move as a threat to their territory.”

Birshaw muttered, across the room from Jacob but still audible. “Not just the Oduran League.”

Jacob kept his attention on Oororai; he would deal with Birshaw later. “You’re correct; the
Eagle
was not meant for border patrols or pirate interdiction. A dreadnaught would stop any attempt at a larger raid on the supplies heading for Tiredel, however, which would be a serious concern now. We cannot afford for the Odurans to capture that much material.” Then he smiled. “And if I were trying to avoid threatening the Oduran League, I wouldn’t have taken this job. Honestly, I hope we keep them up worrying late at night.”

A chuckle ran through the room, and even Oororai looked mildly amused. Birshaw’s face darkened, however. She opened her mouth to speak, but Jacob cut her off with a gesture. “
Eagle
’s deployment was not a debate. I will be sending out a list of escorts that will accompany us to Tiredel. You’re dismissed.”

He tried not to sound too cold as he spoke, but some amount of Jacob’s feeling leaked through into his tone. Birshaw stopped abruptly, and then stood with an angry jerk. She stormed out of the room with Sitati just behind her. Others followed at a more sedate pace, and the briefing room emptied until Jacob and Isaac were left alone.

Jacob waited until the last of them closed the hatch and sighed. He scrubbed his hands over his face and then glanced back at where the projection of Isaac’s battle had hovered in the air. It was already starting; the Odurans were recovering their balance. If they were already beginning their commerce raids and probing attacks, then they were far more prepared than the Intelligence section had estimated. How much longer would it be before they came in force? Would the Navy be able to turn aside an actual assault group, or would the Odurans simply crush them under weight of numbers?

Then Jacob turned his attention back to Isaac, who was still standing with stiff formality at the center of the room. He stood up and walked down to the floor where Isaac and the projector were waiting, studying Isaac’s upright stance and impassive expression. No hint of joviality remained in Isaac’s face. It was as if grief over Laurie’s death had wiped every trace of that part of his friend away.

Silence stretched between them for a moment, and then Jacob spoke. “It is good to see you again, Isaac.”

Isaac’s expression flickered slightly before his features closed down again. “Thank you, Admiral Hull. It is good to see you as well.”

Jacob winced at the use of his rank and last name; Isaac had used a similar manner to express his anger aboard
Wolfhound
. Nevertheless, he pressed forward. “Congratulations on your recent promotions; the way you directed your squadron during battle proves you deserved it.”

A hint of satisfaction crept into Isaac’s face again, and he glanced up at where the battle had been displayed. “Thank you, Sir. I am glad I was able to prove myself.”

“I am very happy Captain Irving recognized  level of skill in you.” Jacob watched his friend closely and saw the satisfaction in Isaac’s expression deepen. “Given his differences in political philosophy, I was surprised you received such a definite endorsement from him before his resignation.”

Isaac smiled, a curling of the lips that expressed very little good humor. The satisfaction in his expression almost seemed cruel. He said nothing.

Jacob’s suspicions crystallized in that instant, and he folded his arms behind him. “You must have done something rather special to earn that kind of praise from him.” When Isaac remained silent still, Jacob pressed further. “I would love to hear about it.”

Isaac’s smile grew slightly. “No, I don’t think you would.” Isaac raised an eyebrow. “Not the sort of thing a flag officer would want to get mixed up in, you see.”

Frustration and worry spiraled up through Jacob, and he was forced to clamp down on a heated reply. He studied Isaac a moment longer, noting how his stance had shifted from rigid formality to casual contempt. Then Jacob spoke, his voice lethal and low. “Captain Bellworth, I want to know exactly what kind of game you’ve been playing. You can start explaining here, or you can explain to the Judiciary.”

The smile disappeared. “I…don’t know what you are talking about, sir.”

“I think you do.” Jacob started to pace, reeling off the list of events he’d uncovered as he’d looked back through the past six months. “After Tiredel, you were assigned to be a lieutenant commander under Captain Erlingstad. He lasted four weeks before someone anonymously posted details of his smuggling scheme to a public database. His successor saw to it you were promoted to commander two weeks later—and transferred out of his command.”

Isaac shrugged. “I guess Captain Feras just thought I’d been doing a rather good job.
Sir.”

Ignoring the belated sound of Isaac’s ‘sir’, Jacob continued. “Five weeks after the transfer, the commanding officer of the
Edward
resigns. The only reason for his resignation is listed as ‘obligation to care for his family,’ even though Captain Tamerlane was a widower with no children and no surviving relatives of any kind. Your next commanding officer fills your personnel jacket with commendations, and then requests you be transferred again three weeks later.”

Again, Isaac shrugged. “I seem to be the victim of my own extreme competence, sir. I still don’t understand what you are acting so upset.”

Refusing the opportunity for a direct accusation, Jacob forged on ahead. “This transfer, when I heard of it, had me worried. The
Kay
was a good opportunity, but Captain Irving is a Federalist crony. He’s so far in Kenning’s pocket he probably hadn’t seen daylight for a decade. There was no way a commanding officer like that would have treated you with any kind of respect, not with the feud between Kenning and me. I was halfway tempted to pull strings to get you reassigned, but I didn’t know if that would just make things worse.”

Isaac inclined his head slightly. “That was kind of you, Sir, but I was fine. I can take care of myself.”

“Obviously.” Jacob snorted derisively. “Now Irving’s not only resigned, he’s recommended you for another promotion. To command the ship he’s leaving behind. Somehow, you’ve also managed to convince Captains Yurigrov, Tamashi, and Horner to agree, even though you’ve never served under any of them, and even though all three of them are solid, Federalist stock under Kenning’s thumb. Am I going to hear about their resignations soon as well?”

Isaac frowned. “That’s unlikely. Yurigrov might eventually have to go that way, but Horner and Tamashi mostly just needed to see the error of their ways—and maybe a few interesting tidbits I happened to dig up. They’re no good to me dirtside.”

The cold, calculating tone dug straight into Jacob’s heart, and he stared at Isaac. “You’re blackmailing them. Forcing them to recommend you and then resign. What the hell do you think you’re doing, Isaac?”

“What has to be
done.” Isaac’s tone was flat and lethal now; anger glittered like a knife blade in his eyes. “The officers you’ve mentioned were not good men, Jacob. They weren’t even capable officers, except maybe Horner and Feras. Do you know what Captain Irving said to me the first day I arrived on the
Kay
?” He continued before Jacob had a chance to respond. “Here comes the grieving widower. Let’s see how long he lasts.”

Isaac gestured to where the rest of the officers had been sitting. “They were trying to drive me out of the Navy, Jacob, or to use me as a weapon against you. Some of them figured I would be a decent target because I was close to you; others thought I’d be vulnerable because of what happened at Tiredel.” For a heartbeat, Laurie’s death hung between the two of them, and Isaac drew back. “They deserved what they got, Jacob, and worse besides. If they resigned, it was because I gave them the option—which means I gave them more of a chance than that bastard gave Laurie.”

Jacob rocked back on his heels by the venom in Isaac’s words. “You can’t just tear through the fleet like this Isaac. One day it will catch up with you. You’ll end up in the brig. At best, you’ll be court-martialed and thrown out of the Navy.”

“What
happens, happens.” Isaac grinned. The rest of his expression made that baring of teeth macabre. “Of course, once I’m no longer in uniform, I might be able to take a bit more direct action against them. Wouldn’t they hate that?”

“Isaac, please.” Jacob stepped forward. “You have to stop this. It won’t bring her back.”

“No, it won’t.” Isaac’s words grew harder, more clipped. “She’s gone, and I can’t change that. I know.” Then his fingers slowly clenched. “But what I can do is make sure nobody else in this fleet has to go through that again. Kenning might have resigned, but he’s still has friends throughout the Navy. Between him and his brother, they have enough pull to cause whatever kind of trouble they want, and they’ve been doing whatever they please for a while now. Now it’s my turn, Jacob, and whether they end up getting me or not, by the time I’m done they’ll wish they’d never laid eyes on me. I promise you that.”

In the ensuing quiet, Jacob searched Isaac’s eyes, looking for some sign of hesitation or remorse. He found none. There was only that unshakable intensity, that lethal hatred, which had haunted his eyes whenever David Kenning was mentioned. Then Jacob grunted. “You’re going to end up regretting this, Isaac. Kenning is a threat—if anyone knows it, I do—but this isn’t the way to fight back. It may end up costing you more than just your career.”

Isaac held Jacob’s stare for a moment longer, and then he looked away. “If they catch me—if they bring me down—then at least I’ll be able to tell her I tried.  I did my best. Anything else and I’d disappoint her.” He met Jacob’s gaze again, and there was a hint of Isaac’s old smile in his eyes. “And at least then you’ll know I deserved whatever happened to me, right? What more can a man ask for?”

For a very long moment, Jacob stared at his friend. There was nothing Jacob wanted more than to order Isaac through another round of psych evaluations, but somehow he knew they would never be enough. Isaac was sane; he was simply committed to his course, and clearly Jacob could do nothing to deter the man. He briefly entertained the thought of removing him from command—or even from the Navy completely—until Isaac’s mention of ‘direct action’ came back to him. A chill went through Jacob’s heart as he considered what those words could mean, and he shook his head in frustration at his lack of options.

In the end, he only had two options. Jacob could let Isaac continue, or he could throw him in jail—and in the end, he knew which choice would leave David Kenning free reign to sabotage the Navy.

“Fine.
If you’re caught, if you’re brought up on charges, I can’t stop them.” Jacob glared at Isaac, wishing for some outlet to unleash his frustration on. “Damn you, Isaac. I already lost Laurie on my watch. If I lose you too…”

Isaac’s hand landed on Jacob’s shoulder, and he looked back to see Isaac staring at him. His friend spoke plainly, without any hint of deception. “It wasn’t you, Jacob. Kenning was the one who got her killed; you did the best you could. Nobody’s perfect.” Then Isaac stepped back and came to attention. The impassive mask slipped back into place without any sign Isaac’s feelings had been exposed at all. Isaac saluted.
“Permission to withdraw, Admiral?”

Jacob watched Isaac for a moment more, and then returned the salute.
“Granted, Captain.”

Without a second glance, Isaac marched out of the room, leaving Jacob alone to ponder what had become of his old friend. Then Jacob banished those glum thoughts with a chuckle. Al-shira would not have been pleased to see him moping, and he had enough to do that he couldn’t afford to sit around. There was a plan to make.

The Odurans, after all, were waiting.

Chapter Seven

The
Eagle
entered the Tiredel system above the plane of the planet’s orbit. Given their position and the relatively slow acceleration of the dreadnaught, they wouldn’t reach orbit for another six hours, but Jacob could afford to wait. The delay would give him plenty of time to survey the situation and decide on his next move.

His seat in the
Eagle
’s command room offered him an unparalleled view. The compartment had been designed to display all the tactical data an admiral could wish for. A pit at the center of the room made enough space for the gigantic projection unit. Above the unit was a hologram of nearly the entire Tiredel system. Stationed around the pit were the officers who had been assigned as his tactical staff, each with their own set of controls. Jacob’s own console spread out in a bank of controls before him, complete with a smaller projection unit to one side.

It was an effective arrangement that had been copied from the
Badger
, but Jacob was still growing accustomed to the differences in style. A part of him missed the relative simplicity of the bridge of the
Wolfhound
, but an Admiral couldn’t command a fleet from a destroyer.

Lieutenant Urchel spoke up from her position at Logistics, breaking him out of his reverie. “Sir, the ships of the task force report no engineering problems. All ships are returning to standard formation.”

Jacob nodded and searched out the dots in the hologram that represented his task force. The
Eagle
hadn’t come alone to Tiredel. Two
Knight
-class cruisers,
Kay
and
Galahad,
were also along for the ride, hanging off either side of the
Eagle
. Eight
Hunter
-class destroyers were riding in formation with the cruisers while a pack of six
Knife
-class frigates brought up the rear. Nine
Arrowhead
-class corvettes led the way in a forward screen for each branch of the formation, gliding quietly through space.

All in all, the force contained nearly a third of Jacob’s personal command.  That command had grown, thanks to Al-shira’s efforts to capture some of the most recently upgraded ships, but it remained the smallest out of the members of the Admiralty Board. The difference in size had helped her weasel several more refitted ships out of the other admirals, but not out of any generosity on their part. The fact was, the other admirals heavily mistrusted those refits, and they had been more than ready to let them malfunction under Jacob’s orders rather than their own. The barely concealed glee in their generous messages releasing the ships to him was not exactly encouraging; just once Jacob wanted to get a force that was
expected
to succeed.

Still, it was better to have a small group in the right place than to have a large one dispersed and out of position. Jacob tried to push past his misgivings and turned his attention back to the situation. “Thank you Lieutenant Urchel. Lieutenant Hart, are any of our ships reporting a threat?”

The officer at the Analysis console shook her head and bent over her console. “No, sir. It looks like the entire system is clear. The only active ships in the system are registered as friendly craft. There are no emergency signals or requests for assistance either. The Oathbound colony appears to be at normal status.”

Jacob nodded and turned his attention to the craft in orbit. Though quite a few of the Oduran refugees had landed their ships on the surface to create living space on the frozen world, there still seemed to be numberless hundreds of ships in orbit. Millions were still waiting for the opportunity to join their comrades on the surface and abandon the collection of barges, converted warships, and transports they were depending on now. The ramshackle fleet looked like it was a junkyard for old Oduran equipment, and Jacob was surprised the refugees had not suffered any major catastrophes with so many half-functional ships in space.

Yet those ships weren’t alone, and Jacob frowned. “It looks like there is a lot of merchant traffic. More than usual.”

Lieutenant Hart answered his unasked question. “Yes Sir. Some of them are registered as charitable missions to help the refugees, but others are just bringing trade goods for the new colony.” He cracked a smile. “It’s probably more trade than Tiredel ever saw before now.”

“Most likely, Lieutenant Hart.” Jacob watched the merchant ships a moment longer before he turned his attention to the last major area of activity in the system. “How are the…salvage…operations going?”

There was a long moment of silence in the command center, and Jacob could hear the reluctance in Lieutenant Grey’s voice when she answered. “The operations are proceeding, sir. No unusual activity noted.”

Jacob kept his eyes fixed on the spot. The ships there were the last remnants of the Battle of Tiredel, where so much of the Oduran military and the Celostian Navy had been destroyed. The remains of four of
Eagle
’s sister ships were there; all four
Golem
-class dreadnaughts were in a state of partial disassembly as engineers worked to pull them into more manageable chunks. Seven wrecked Oduran dreadnaughts, all
Banner
-class vessels, were beside them being harvested for materials. Their hulls were marked by the blast waves of missiles, punctured by railgun shells, or seared by plasma lances, a silent testament to the vicious battle that had broken them.

Of course, those eleven ships were not the sum of the destruction wrought. Cruisers, destroyers, frigates and corvettes had been destroyed as well, but those ships had been much easier to move out of the system and back to places where they could be broken up more effectively. Dreadnaughts were simply too big to carry; they were at the absolute limit of riftjump capabilities already, so they had to be broken up and hauled away piece by piece. Even including those absent casualties was not enough, for the human cost had been high. The great Battle of Tiredel had killed thousands and had claimed both the lives of Laurie Bellworth and the former High Admiral, Alan Nivrosky.

Jacob stared at the remaining wreckage and remembered the carnage, the chaos. He watched again in his mind’s eye as both a close friend and a trusted mentor died.

Then a button lit up on Jacob’s console, and he stirred out of his thoughts. The message hadn’t come through Lieutenant Mendel at the General Communications station, so it had to be a high priority. He tapped the controls, and Captain Martino’s voice came over the speakers. “Admiral, we have a message coming in from a civilian ship in the system. They are requesting the chance to speak with you.”

Jacob blinked, and he looked back at the hologram above them. There was a yellow dot pulsing there now, marking the position of the ship making the request. How they had anticipated his arrival here was beyond him, given that he’d just barely decided to move his forces three days ago. “Did they identify themselves, Captain?”

“Yes, sir.”
Captain Martino paused, and his voice was a little cautious as continued. “The message header indicated it came from a Mr. Roderick von Clarence, Sir.”

Jacob sat bolt upright. The former High Seat was in the area—something he should have expected, given how close Tiredel was to San Marcos—but he shouldn’t have been briefed on Jacob’s mission or deployment schedule. The last thing Jacob wanted to deal with at the moment was the pompous former head of the Union, but a message from von Clarence was not something he could easily ignore—especially not after Smithson had taken such great pains to ask Jacob to support his predecessor in his mission to San Marcos.

He sighed. “Thank you, Captain. I’ll take the message here.” There was a moment’s pause while Lieutenant Mendel rerouted the transmission, and then another button lit up. Jacob pressed it with an air of resignation, hoping he was wrong about what he would find as a result.

An image of von Clarence appeared in the projector at Jacob’s console. He was an older man with the rough, hard-bitten look of a person who was used to fighting for what he’d earned. It was rather opposite the type of cultured exterior most of the would-be aristocrats of the Union projected, and in reality, the von Clarence fortune was nearly equal to that of the fabled Maxwell. His clothing, a fine suit with impeccable tailoring, reflected his wealth. None of that seemed to matter the moment the man began to speak.

His voice was surprisingly gentle, with a calm sort of control that drew attention. “Admiral Hull. I am glad to see you’ve arrived in the system and would like the opportunity to discuss the strategic possibilities open to the Navy in the surrounding systems. Please let me know when we can meet.” Von Clarence’s gaze sharpened. “It would be best if we meet at the earliest available time. High Elder von Clarence, out.”

The transmission ended, and Jacob tried to grab hold of his emotions. It was hard not to dislike the man, especially when he made such incredibly inconvenient demands. He had an entire campaign to plan and put in motion, and von Clarence wanted a moment of his time? Why couldn’t the man go pester the Independents in San Marcos instead?

In spite of his reflexive instinct to refuse the meeting, Jacob knew he had to agree to see the former High Seat. Whether he liked von Clarence or not, Jacob had been ordered to help the man. A simple meeting wouldn’t set their operational plans back, especially if Jacob could find a way to avoid committing to any action on von Clarence’s behalf.

Despite such solid reasoning, Jacob had a sneaking suspicion things would not turn out that way. For once, he prayed he wouldn’t be proven right.

Jacob waited in the conference room, standing with his arms behind him and his feet shoulder width apart. He tried not to tap his foot; von Clarence was running late. It might have been a coincidence, but given the past few experiences Jacob had suffered through with the former High Seat, he didn’t think it was likely. It was just one more thing about the former leader of the Union that managed to worm its way under Jacob’s skin and itch.

Just as Jacob was about to relent and call Captain Martino to find out where the supposed visitor had gotten to, von Clarence and two others stepped through the door. Surprise held Jacob’s tongue for a moment. He’d expected von Clarence to come alone; an audience was something neither one of them tended to want. Then Jacob overcame the unexpected setback and started forward. He held his hand out to von Clarence. “High Elder. Welcome to the
Eagle
.”

Von Clarence considered Jacob’s hand for half a heartbeat and then shook it. “Admiral Hull. Thank you for making the time to see me.” He let go of Jacob’s hand and motioned to the two individuals who had arrived with him. “This is my friend, Nathanial Maxwell, and my personal aide, Shareed Al-Kesh. I asked them to join me today.”

Jacob’s eyebrows had shot up at Nathaniel’s introduction; it wasn’t often a Navy officer was able to meet one of the sons of the famous Charles Maxwell. As the last Regal Seat of Celostia, Charles had established the Union and written the very laws that now held the nation together. He’d earned lasting fame within the framework of the Union, and his family had been granted a similar level of respect after his passing.

Then Jacob’s eyes narrowed slightly when he turned his attention back to von Clarence. It was just like him to announce his connection to the Maxwell family in some misguided attempt to overawe someone. His suspicions increased; whatever “aid” von Clarence was here to ask for was not going to be easy.

Shaking his head, Jacob motioned for them to move toward the chairs around the table. “Mr. Maxwell, Mr. Von Clarence, welcome. Please, take a seat.” As the others busied themselves with settling in, Jacob walked around to the other side of the table. “So, what can I do for you today?”

Von Clarence’s features grew stiff, and Jacob winced inwardly at the tone he’d used. Unpleasant as the man might be, the last thing he needed was for the former High Seat to go around announcing how unhelpful the new candidate for High Admiral could be. Retired or no, von Clarence still wielded an enviable amount of influence, and Jacob had enemies enough with that kind of power.

Whether he felt insulted or not, von Clarence began in the same, calm tone. “I suppose that would depend on how we can help you, Admiral Hull. It was something of a surprise to hear you had arrived in this system. I had expected you to move your forces from New Vermont, but Tiredel seems like it wouldn’t have been the best choice available.”

The lecturing tone in von Clarence’s voice was incredibly irritating, but Jacob kept the growl from his response. “The situation demanded a slightly different choice of strategy, unfortunately. I had to respond to the circumstances as I saw fit, and Tiredel has been a point of contention between the Odurans and the Union already. There was a battle here just the other week, in fact.”

Von Clarence tilted his head to the side, his gaze becoming sharper. “Ah, yes, I did hear about that action. It was a raiding party of some sort, am I correct?” He narrowed his eyes. “Unless the Odurans have shifted tactics recently, I sincerely doubt they would lead the way for an actual assault force with that type of raid. It would have given away their intentions to attack.”

Jacob was determined to keep his own voice just as even. “That is true, but from Tiredel this task force would be ideally placed to catch any assault on this area of space before it penetrated too deeply into our territory. Besides, an attack that manages to take off some of the supplies here would be rather devastating to the refugee population here.”