Eagle (Jacob Hull) Page 3
Borgen spoke before Jacob could continue, his tone combative. “Unless, of course, your grand plan goes poorly and our fleet is destroyed. This is ridiculous.” He looked around at his fellow officers, as if rallying them to his skepticism. “The Oduran League is too far away and too divided to launch another assault like Tiredel. They always have been. I don’t see why we should risk ourselves this way.”
Yeseti joined in, her voice shrill. “I agree with Admiral Borgen. This plan is nothing but a reckless gamble that will harm our ability to safeguard our people.” She directed a glare in Jacob’s direction. “Perhaps some officers might derive a sort of satisfaction from the prestige of such a move, but it would be utterly inadvisable in the long run.”
Though her glare had left little doubt as to which officer she suspected of those motivations, Jacob ignored Yeseti’s implied accusations and addressed the objection more directly. “Admiral Borgen, the obstacles we’ve depended on to cripple the League’s attacks are no longer as powerful as they once were. We’re more vulnerable than we’ve ever been.”
The other admirals fell silent for a moment, and then Borgens began to splutter out another protest. Jacob cut him off, gesturing angrily to the map. “Both the League and the Union have expanded into the Frontier over the past decade, drastically cutting the amount of time it takes to cross the gap. Further, the Telosian pirates have provided a safe conduit for Oduran shipping through their territory, which would allow them to resupply their attack fleets much easier as they cross.”
Borgens’ attention went to the map, and the admiral paled as he digested the information.
Yeseti, however, was undeterred. “No matter how close the League has gotten in past years, their infighting will always—”
“Not anymore, Admiral Yeseti, as you must be aware.” Jacob folded his arms and stared her down. “While the losses at Tiredel had provoked a minor civil war over who would take control of the League’s power structure, a lot of those arguments have been settled permanently by the new heads of the League.” Jacob touched a control, and the image of a blond, severe looking woman appeared. “This is President Julia Sesser. She took control of the situation in the League within three months of Tiredel and has been the driving force behind the restoration of order. A few executions and show trials have removed the majority of the military leaders who were in her way, and the remaining contenders for leadership of the League are either falling in line or being crushed by the Oduran military one after another. Intelligence suggests she will have full control of the League within three months—and she will turn her attention to us soon after that.”
Mirov spoke again, his voice measured and calm. “Intelligence has also reported the population inside the League is unwilling to send another major strike force against us so soon after the most recent disaster. That would suggest this President Sessor would be likely to wait long enough to consolidate her power further before coming after us, rather than risk a popular revolt on several planets by attacking us immediately.”
The objection could not have been more reasonably stated, and both Borgens and Siddiqui nodded in agreement. Yeseti was still busy glaring at Jacob for interrupting her. None of those reactions showed much promise for Jacob’s plans. He met Mirov’s gaze.
“At the same time, Admiral Mirov, she must know one of the most effective ways to clamp down on dissent during a takeover is to create a foreign menace to justify her rule. President Sessor will be highly motivated to create whatever excuse she can to divert attention to us, which means we are one engineered incident away from an invasion.” Jacob spread his hands in wide, frustrated gesture. “Besides, as officers in the Navy, it is our responsibility to anticipate the worst case scenario and plan accordingly, not sit on our hands and hope the enemy decides to be distracted today. We can’t depend on the Odurans remaining this passive forever.”
Yeseti responded first. “It is also our responsibility to restrain the self-serving actions of officers who want glory more than the safety of our homes.” She glanced around at the other admirals and then returned to glaring at Jacob. “I believe this strategy is unwise, and I will oppose any move made to support it.”
One vote was against him already, when he needed at least two of them to agree. Jacob rocked back on his heels for a moment, and then turned to the others. “Admirals, you know we can’t wait for the Odurans to act first. We don’t have the strength to contain them this time. Our nation will be in danger.”
Siddiqui was the next to respond. “Then we will need to prepare ourselves, Admiral Hull—but I do not believe an offensive strike is warranted at this time. Our resources are better spent on new defenses, or perhaps raising and training new contingents among our civilian populations. I must also disagree.”
Feeling doomed, Jacob turned to face the two last officers on the Board. He let some portion of the bitterness he felt color his tone now, seeing little hope either Borgens or Mirov would see sense and agree with him. “Are you also opposed, admirals? Or could I possibly count on your support?”
Mirov remained silent, but Borgens suffered no such hesitation in his response. “You may not, Admiral Hull. And may I say this hasty move is not the hallmark of a wise commander. Your attack might even provoke the very unity and animosity among our enemies we are afraid of seeing later on. I cannot believe this plan would work under any but the most ideal situations. We will have to turn to different answers—and perhaps different leadership—to defend the Union.”
As he spoke, Borgens looked pointedly at Admiral Mirov, though the stately officer remained silent. Siddiqui’s expression clouded as she realized his meaning; doubtless the Independents would consider a Federalist High Admiral just as poor a choice as Jacob would be.
Yeseti, on the other hand, seemed oblivious to the byplay among the other officers. She stood and brushed her hands along her tunic, as if wiping off the residue of the meeting. “If that is all, Admiral Hull, may I assume we no longer have any business to discuss?”
Jacob studied her for a moment, reigning in the anger swirling within him. It would have been all too easy to force the other officers to stay, to try to browbeat them into submission. He might have succeeded in getting them to agree that way, if only for as long as they needed to before they could worm their way out of their promises. Yet if his plans were going to work, he needed their absolute support, not some half-hearted attempts. That kind of commitment didn’t come by force.
So Jacob resisted the urge to point out how stupid their infighting was and folded his hands behind his back. “You are correct, Admiral Yeseti. Thank you for your time.”
Yeseti opened her mouth as if to deliver a retort, and then paused. Obviously thrown by the polite response, she turned and stormed from the room, closely followed by Admiral Siddiqui. Admiral Borgens stayed only long enough to clasp hands with Admiral Mirov and say a few words in a low voice Jacob could not hear. Then the bulldog-faced admiral strode out as well, not sparing a glance for Jacob on the way out.
When they had gone, Jacob let out the sigh he’d been holding in for the duration of the meeting. Then he turned, with some curiosity, to consider the remaining occupant of the room. “Admiral Mirov? Is there something more you wished to discuss with me?”
Mirov’s attention remained fixed on the image of the border between the Union and the League. “You truly believe the League will attack, Admiral Hull.”
Jacob studied the man for a moment, wondering what he was hoping to achieve. “Yes, Admiral. I do.”
Mirov remained quiet, a thoughtful look on his face. Then he rose. “If such is the case, Admiral Hull, then the Union—and her Navy—will need a leader. A strong leader, with the support of her people and her officers. Don’t you agree, Admiral?”
There was no threat in his voice, nor any hint Mirov wanted Jacob to step aside. All the same, when Jacob met the man's impassive gaze, he could not help but interpret those words in just that fashion. He let his own voice grow cold
and neutral as well. “I would agree, Admiral Mirov. Thank you for your time.”
Mirov inclined his head slightly, then strode from the room.
Jacob remained a few moments more, his gaze drifting to the image of the Union. As he looked at those blue stars, the small specks of light that represented his home, his freedom, everything he had fought for, a new determination filled him. He was not going to let the Union fall while politicians debated and admirals fought for power. High Admiral or not, Jacob had a job to do, and no one was going to stop him from doing it.
Chapter Three
“So I’ll assume the meeting did not go well.”
Jacob grimaced. “No, Leon, it didn’t go very well at all.”
Captain Leon Nivrosky, son of the late High Admiral Alan Nivrosky, sighed and looked away. “I did warn you the Board would be a problem. The fact Borgens even made it onto the Board in the first place should have told you that you weren’t going to get your plans approved easily.”
“I didn’t expect it to be easy. I just expected it to work eventually.” Jacob forced his hands to unclench and looked around the table. “Unfortunately, it looks like Borgens and maybe Yeseti were just waiting for the chance to grab something they could use to justify their backing of Admiral Mirov. They aren’t going to reverse their decision now.”
Leon frowned. “I know you don’t particularly like Mirov, but my father always used to speak well of him. He wouldn’t have selected him to command the Lancelot otherwise.” He looked down for a long moment, and then shrugged. “I suppose it doesn’t matter what Mirov’s motivations are. We still have to find some way to get things moving again.”
“I agree.” Al-shira leaned across the table and placed a hand on Jacob’s. “We haven’t lost yet. We just need another angle of attack.”
Ashford snorted. The Marine did not sit at the table with the rest of them, but he was standing attentively in the corner. The rest of Jacob’s bodyguards were waiting outside, per his request. While he trusted the men and women assigned to protect him, Jacob knew the key to keeping things secret was discretion. He couldn’t discuss all of his plans in front of someone he didn’t trust implicitly to help him.
Not that Ashford seemed particularly inclined to help. He had simply refused to leave Jacob unescorted and stood by his commission to guard him. In order to exclude him from the meeting, Jacob would have had to accept Ashford’s resignation, something Jacob would never do. Jacob studied the Marine a moment, wondering why Ashford had been so stubborn. “Colonel, did you have a contribution to make?”
Ashford kept his eyes straight ahead. “No, Sir. Just thought of something funny, Sir.”
“That's something I would love to hear. We could all use a bit of good news.” Leon looked from Ashford to Jacob. “Admiral, if they are that determined to oppose you, the only way we are going to get approval for your plans is to get you confirmed as High Admiral. Not even they will defy direct orders from a superior officer. It would mean a court martial instead of an administrative slap on the hand.”
Jacob sat back in his seat, trying to keep his expression blank. “Easier said than done, Captain Nivrosky. After all, the High Seat has been doing the best he can to move the referendum forward, but the House of the People has been stalling, and the Lower Seats are backing them up.”
Ashford spoke up. “Of course, just having the referendum may not help if you get outvoted. Sir.”
The statement brought a bitter smile to Jacob’s lips. “Thank you, Colonel, for the reminder.” He turned his attention back to the others. “Both the Federalists and the Independents have stated their opposition to me, and both have been campaigning actively against me. What do we do if the referendum results in my defeat?”
Al-shira shrugged. “We’ll do our best with what we have. For now, though, we shouldn’t be so quick to give up, Admiral.” She squeezed his hand and then pulled back. “The Federalists may be fighting you in favor of Mirov, but the Independents have been campaigning in favor of having no High Admiral at all. They don’t want to risk the concentration of military authority, which means our opponents are divided. The whole Union isn’t against us.”
“It sure feels that way sometimes.” Jacob sighed. “I just wish I had a better idea of what Mirov’s plans are. Is he actively trying to develop support, or are the Kennings using him? Could I trust him to support me as High Admiral? I don’t even know what his opinion of my plan was, since he didn’t bother to vote like the others.”
Leon folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. “It’s at times like this I wish Isaac was here. He was good at finding things out, in his own way.” He paused. “Where is Commander Bellworth, anyway?”
At the mention of Jacob’s former friend, he felt the temperature inside him drop. “Captain Bellworth is currently serving as commander of the Kay. I believe he is now patrolling near Adamson.”
Leon’s eyebrows rose. “Captain Bellworth? That was a rather fast series of promotions.” He looked from Jacob’s stubbornly neutral face to Al-shira’s blank expression. “How did he manage it?”
“A question I would like to ask myself.” Jacob tried to keep the growl from his voice. He started to tighten his fingers into fists again. “His former commanding officer—along with several others—suggested the promotion. At least, they did so just before the majority of them resigned from their posts.”
Leon sat back, a surprised expression clear on his face. “Captain Irving resigned? That’s a surprise to me. I would have thought the old fool would have…” He trailed off, apparently catching some hint of the frustration rising inside Jacob. “In any case, Isaac always did have a talent for sniffing out intrigue. He might be helpful to us, if we reached out to him.”
Jacob shook his head. “Any effort I would make to contact Captain Bellworth is not welcome at this point. You know why that is.”
An uncomfortable silence fell, filled with the memories of Laurie, Isaac’s wife, who had died at Tiredel under Jacob’s command. Then Al-shira spoke up. “At the same time, we do have things to worry about aside from this battle, Jacob.” She tapped a control and brought up an image of the stars along the border. “This message came in just a short while ago. It was routed through the Galahad to reach us, but they passed it on to Eagle once they saw the priority tags.”
Jacob motioned for her to continue, and she pressed a button on her console. The image magnified to show a star system. It was labeled Al-Nasser, one of the border systems the Navy depended on to resupply its fleet. As Jacob watched the system move, a small flotilla of ships appeared at the very edge of the system. His breath caught when the ships were tagged with identification codes. “Oduran warships. How far did they get? What damage did they do?”
Al-shira quieted his questions with a look, and they watched the Oduran vessels move inward, tracking along the course of a gigantic, fragile cargo freighter. The merchantman was armed, unlike the majority of its fellows, but the pair of missile launchers it carried was not going to be much help against five Hatchet-class frigates. It would be a massacre.
The warships closed in on their targets, and then a pair of new vessels appeared nearby. The system tagged them as Defender-class destroyers, the version of Celostian warship that had eventually been modified into the Wolfhound and her fellows. Seeing their enemies already in system, both destroyers came about and accelerated. They would have a tough fight on their hands against five frigates at once, and Jacob could appreciate the bravery of those commanders.
Yet the Odurans didn’t stick around to test the resolve of the Celostian craft. The moment the frigates saw the new arrivals, they came around on a new course and began to accelerate hard, leaving both the merchantman and the destroyers behind in their wake. None of the frigates paused until they riftjumped out of the system, abandoning whatever mission they had been given there.
Jacob’s mind whirred while the image shut down. He looked over at Al-shira. “Did the destroyer commanders mention an
y transmissions from the Oduran ships? Did they demand surrender or ask for speaking terms?”
“No.” Al-shira shook her head emphatically. “The frigates weren’t responding to signals. They didn’t send anything to the merchantman either. Commander Emmonds mentioned they might have been worried about being intercepted by other reinforcements.”
Leon laughed. “I doubt it. In fact, I’d lay odds that if any other type of warship had jumped into the system, those ships would have fought.”
Al-shira raised an eyebrow at the other officer. “Why? Since when did a couple of outdated destroyers frighten anyone?”
“Since those destroyers look like the newest engine of death the Celostians have put out.” Leon’s smile grew a bit more gloating. “They must have thought a couple of Hunter-class ships had jumped in. The Odurans are still pretty spooked by what we managed at Tiredel, from the looks of this recording.”
Jacob chuckled along with Leon. He’d often wondered what kind of impression his modified destroyer design had made, after they’d destroyed dozens of craft—including the enemy flagship—in exchange for one of their own. Now he knew. “You’re probably right.” His amusement began to fade as he turned his attention back to the projection. He tapped a control, and the images scrolled back to when the frigates had first entered the system. “Still, spooked or no, the Odurans are starting to probe our defenses again. These frigates might report back that they found a Navy patrol in the system, but it won’t keep them from trying again.”
Al-shira tilted her head to the side, her own expression becoming serious. “It does look like they were on a scouting mission, then decided to engage the freighter as a target of opportunity. Could they be planning another strike already?”