“They could count on a stronger Navy presence while their ships are on patrol.” Al-shira spoke slowly, and an approving smile grew on her features. “The Navy’s better suited to major defense operations anyway, and the militia would actually know just as well as the Navy where the Oduran’s heaviest strikes would hit. They might have fewer ships available at any one moment, but we’d be better able to cover them when the Odurans do show up.”
Deleon speared Al-shira with a scornful look. “That assumes the militia involved trust the Navy to do the work of defending them. Why should they be forced to depend on the Union for that?”
Jacob shrugged. “They won’t have to. If they prefer, they can continue to defend themselves. The Odurans would slaughter them in any stand-up engagement, so their losses will be rather heavy. There’s nothing the Navy can do to prevent it if we don’t know when the attack is coming.” He spread his hands. “We can do a much better job if we trust each other enough to work together. Our people will be safer and more secure than they have in the history of the Union. Isn’t that the ultimate goal for us?”
There was no hint of change in Deleon’s face; she remained stubbornly suspicious. “Safer against a foreign enemy, perhaps, but what about a domestic threat? If the Navy decides to take it into its head to overthrow the Union, or if a particular Navy commander decides to stage a coup, how will the militias involved in this be able to protect themselves?”
“They won’t.” Jacob let those flat, lethal words hang in the air of the conference room for a moment. When he continued, his voice was still as hard as iron. “The militia has to trust us. Otherwise, we’re all going to be killed by the Odurans, militia and Navy alike. It seems a bit foolish to conjure up imaginary military tyrants in our ranks when an entire fleet of them is just across the Frontier, waiting to strike.”
Odell raised an eyebrow. “Not the most persuasive or reassuring argument, Admiral Hull.”
“High Seat Smithson doesn’t pay me to be reassuring, Captain. He pays me to win.” Jacob spread his arms wide. “If the militia is so concerned about my intentions—or any officer’s intentions—this is their chance to gain access to Navy information and Navy supplies. They can use both to their advantage. Besides, this program would encourage a level of coordination and training that would help the militia support each other, along with loyal Navy units, in either of the cases you brought up.”
“Depending on the officer overseeing this program, of course.” Siddiqui leaned back in her chair. She remained silent for a moment, watching him carefully. “Who exactly do you propose to lead this effort, Admiral Hull? You? Your Captain Al-shira, here?”
Jacob blinked. Then he spoke in a very carefully controlled voice. “I would suggest you rethink your reference to Captain Al-shira, Admiral. Whatever you think of me, she has more than earned your respect.”
Siddiqui held his gaze, and then looked to where Al-shira was sitting rigidly in her seat. “You are correct. My apologies for any offense, Captain Al-shira.”
“None taken.” Al-shira’s voice was very, very level.
Jacob pulled himself back from his fury and focused on his objective. “To answer your question, Admiral, we need an officer who can coordinate best with the militia and encourage them to take advantage of the opportunity. A flag officer, one with experience talking to their leaders, would be the best choice.”
“You mean me.” Siddiqui’s tone was far from encouraging, but Jacob nodded.
“Correct.” Jacob looked from her neutral expression to the disbelieving look on Odell’s face and the blatant suspicion on Deleon’s. “Between the two of us, we supervise almost eighty percent of the border. If I authorize you to talk with the militia leaders in my zones, we can start organizing this program now. The Admiralty Board can sanction and expand it later, but we need the groundwork as soon as possible.”
“You have to be joking.” Deleon snarled at him. “This is an obvious attempt to either buy us off or subvert us. Why should we have any reason to believe the task force you command won’t be turned against Union targets next instead of Oduran ones?”
Anger flared again in Jacob’s heart, but before he could speak, Al-shira answered. “If the militia won’t even cooperate in the defense of the border, how do we know they won’t be the ones attacking the Union? Or have you forgotten the kind of rhetoric coming from San Marcos?” She continued bitterly. “If you want guarantees, at the very least you know Admiral Hull has put his life on the line more than once for the Union—which is more than I can say for some militia commanders.”
Odell broke in before Deleon could respond. “I am sure my fellow officer did not mean to cast aspersions on Admiral Hull’s character or his honor.” He looked from Deleon’s sullen expression back to Jacob. “It would reassure me to know where your experience with militia forces comes from, however. Where exactly did you gain the experience to understand how to utilize them effectively?”
Al-shira snorted. “That’s a funny thing to ask of someone who actually founded one of the biggest militia forces on the Frontier.” When the others looked at her, she shrugged. “He’s even incorporated them into his deployment plans already. Or did you forget exactly where the ships I was commanding came from? If his use of the Reefhome Defense Corps isn’t a good example of how well he understands the strategy behind this idea, then I don’t know what else you’re waiting for.”
Odell leaned back, his expression again thoughtful, and even Deleon’s hostility looked less certain.
Siddiqui continued to study him, her expression hard to read. Then she smiled. “I accept your proposition, Admiral Hull. I will start work on the program immediately—and congratulations on your victory.”
Captain Deleon spun to look at Siddiqui, her face shocked. “Admiral, I—”
“That’s enough, Captain.” Siddiqui’s cool tone immediately silenced Deleon’s protest. “It’s better for us to have a seat at the table here than to be pushed aside.” Admiral Siddiqui stood, looking around with a satisfied air. “I believe I’ve heard all I will need to, Admiral Hull. We’ll return to the Percival and get to work.”
Jacob inclined his head. He felt a weight lift from his shoulders he hadn’t even realized was there. “Thank you, Admiral.”
Siddiqui started toward the door followed by her staff, but she paused at the door. She looked back, her expression guarded. “I will caution you that not everyone will view your success in Kryshaen or your plans for our defense favorably. Some might consider it an opportunity for personal power instead. Be careful.”
The warning, however unnecessary, was another good sign. Jacob nodded again, letting a flicker of gratitude show. “Thank you again, Admiral Siddiqui. Have a safe journey to your ship.”
With another small smile, Admiral Siddiqui swept out the room with Captain Odell right at her heels. Captain Deleon trailed after them, her expression a mixture of confusion and anger Jacob imagined would last the rest of the day. He waited until the hatch slid shut, and then let out a long breath. Jacob looked to where Al-shira was still sitting. “Well, that went well.”
She smiled. “It could have gone better, but I think you managed to score a win there, Sir.” Then Al-shira glanced at the repeating image of the battle in Kryshaen. “You did well there, too.”
“Why thank you, Captain.” Jacob walked around the table and leaned back against it, arms folded. “So, how bad was it here?”
Al-shira looked away for a moment. “Bad, at least for a while. The Reefhome crews weren’t a problem, but the rest of the area might as well have went wild. I caught some of the transmissions from San Marcos… they were almost frantic about your disappearance. About two days after they realized your entire task force was gone, San Marcos issued a statement saying they’ve banned traffic passing through their system. They justified it by saying they were worried about possible scouts passing information to their enemies.”
“A blockade?” Jacob felt some of his tension start to
filter back in through his muscles. A trade blockade was just one step away from severing all official contact with the Union. “Have they enforced it? Has any ship been fired on?”
“No.” Her voice was just as worried as his had been. “No one has reported anything like that, which either means nobody’s tried it…”
“Or nobody’s survived to make it out intact.” Jacob grunted. Just when he’d finally cut the threat from the Odurans down to size, another problem cropped up. “What else have they been up to?”
Al-shira shrugged. “From what I’ve been able to gather, just more of the same paranoid armament program they’d already started. Lots of spare merchant ships and weapons kits are being bought outside San Marcos and transferred there by their ships.” Her expression darkened. “They haven’t been settling for blockades either. They must have made half a dozen threats about what they would do if your ships entered their system, most of which would have involved bombardments of Tiredel in retaliation. No shots fired, but a couple of times it has been close.”
Jacob scowled. “It must take a lot of courage to threaten a bunch of weaponless refugees. What’s been happening since we came back?”
To Jacob’s relief, Al-shira smiled. “Like night and day. Carmichael still hasn’t issued a statement, but the daily traffic from San Marcos has faltered quite a bit. They don’t seem to know how to react now that all of their doomsday predictions are off the mark. A couple officials have made statements about how the Navy’s aggression against the League is a bad sign for all free peoples, but they haven’t seemed very convincing.”
He snorted. “I guess I shouldn’t have expected them to change their tune very quickly.”
“At least the rest of the Union seems to be a bit more supportive.” Al-shira’s smile widened. “Celebrations are already starting on Tiredel. I’ve heard it’s the same on every other world the message has reached. Odds are by the time you reach New Vermont, the High Seat is going to be waiting for you.”
Jacob grunted. “Anything else I should know about?”
“Maybe.” Al-shira paused. “Von Clarence went to San Marcos three days ago. He was planning on leading a diplomatic mission there to try and restore normal relations with Carmichael’s group.”
Jacob sat bolt upright. “What? Did he know about the—”
“He knew. I warned him we couldn’t help him, right before he left.” Anger colored her tone. “He said he’d give it a try anyway, that anything would be worth it if he managed to stop a civil war.”
Jacob let his hands curl into fists again. He desperately wished he had gotten back to Tiredel sooner. If Carmichael’s ships fired on von Clarence, if they managed to kill a former High Seat of the Union, there was no possible way Jacob could hold the Navy back. Von Clarence had led the Navy to battle during the Telosian Sedition, and his decision to resign from the High Seat was a mirror in many people’s minds of what the last Regal Seat had done. Then a horrible thought occurred to Jacob, and he groaned. “Naomi, who else went with him?”
She winced. “Nathaniel Maxwell, Carson Maxwell, and two of von Clarence’s sons. A few others went with him. They left on the same ship.”
In a single explosive motion, Jacob brought both fists down on the table and pushed himself up out of his chair. “Damn it!” He stalked away from the table, shaking his head. Then he stopped and started back again, frustrated by the helplessness he felt at the situation. “It’s like he’s trying to start a shooting war, even if it kills him! Do you know what would happen if—”
He cut off abruptly. “Sorry Naomi. I should have gotten back here sooner.”
Al-shira stared at him in silence for a few moments, and then she stood up. “You’re lucky you came back at all, Jacob. They were waiting for you at Kryshaen. If they had known just how effective the Eagle would be…
Jacob nodded, his gaze going back to the projection. “We wouldn’t have made it out of there at all.” He tried not to imagine the Eagle going down in flames, just as the Badger once had. “Next time, we’re not going to be so lucky.”
She grunted and walked over to stand beside him. “Obviously.” Al-shira looked over at him, with one eyebrow arched. “So do you have any more surprises for me, Admiral?”
He smiled. “I guess you’ll just have to wait and find out, Captain.”
Al-shira rolled her eyes. “Fine. You’ve done well enough so far I suppose you can be a bit coy. Just remember the rest of the Board won’t be so easy to impress.”
“That won’t keep me from trying, though. And Kryshaen was just the beginning.” Jacob smiled and motioned for her to proceed out of the room ahead of him. “After you, Captain. We have a lot of work to do.”
Chapter Eleven
The yards at New Vermont were busier than Jacob had ever seen them. The great, expansive docking slips were filled to the brim with destroyers, cruisers, and frigates, all of which were there for repair or refit. Jacob could count at least thirteen Crown-class ships with work underway, which meant the next Oduran raider might get more fight out of an outdated cruiser than they would expect. It was the kind of thought that brought a smile to Jacob’s face.
Undoubtedly, the Eagle’s arrival was going to complicate the docks’ already crowded schedule. Almost all of Jacob’s ships needed some kind of repair, and Eagle herself needed quite a bit of work done. Turley was complaining to Jacob about how he had just finished fine-tuning the ship before Jacob just about broke the thing, but such were the costs of war.
He was still studying the docks from his vantage point in his office when Leon came up to join him. “Looks like some of your budget concerns were resolved, Sir.”
Jacob grinned. “I guess kicking the crap out of the Oduran fleet managed to convince some people I had at least a few decent ideas.” He looked to Leon. “How is Galahad doing?”
The other officer shrugged. “We took a little damage to our port side during the battle, but it wasn’t too serious. Engineering had it fixed by the time we got back to Tiredel.”
His answer brought a frown to Jacob’s face. “I thought I heard you were still having problems.”
Leon grinned. “That would be Commander Decerda. He’s a bit pessimistic on his reports and occasionally seems to think the worse he estimates the damage is, the better he’ll look when he fixes it.” Then his grin faded. “So what’s the plan now? Are we just building up, or do you think the Odurans will come after us?”
Jacob shook his head. “They’d have to build a new fleet of their own to make an assault, we took out one of their biggest forward bases, and their morale is probably shot on top of that. If they do end up coming after us, we’ll have plenty of warning thanks to Siddiqui’s scouts.”
His friend grimaced; Leon’s Federalist leanings would never permit him to be comfortable with using militia for anything, no matter how logical the plan was. “I suppose was unavoidable. Which militia are we using to provide forward intelligence?”
“Reefhome was kind enough to lend some of their ships, though Miguel wanted to bring most of them back to the station. Something about providing ongoing security for the refit process there.”
Leon blinked. “Have the Odurans attacked them?”
Jacob grinned. “No. They had a Telosian frigate show up a couple of weeks back, but the frigate jumped out as soon as Miguel went after it. Something tells me the pirates were just checking up on old friends, not committing to a serious attack. They learned not to do that after Dianton.”
They shared a smile over their memories of the fight in Reefhome, and then Leon turned back to the projection of the yards. “Were those all the militia who said they’d help us? I would have thought there would be quite a few more, given Siddiqui’s popularity with them.”
“Let’s see.” Jacob tapped at his personal reader. “Admiral Siddiqui also said the militias from Adamson, Ersvad, New Jakarta, and Pa Kiswani have all volunteered some of their ships. We should have all the routes of approach covered, even if t
he Odurans move tomorrow.” He set the reader aside and studied his friend. “And how are you doing? Do you think we are safe now?”
Leon’s expression was unreadable. “I think we’ve bought ourselves some time. The Odurans certainly won’t replace those dreadnaughts we took very quickly.” Then he closed his eyes and rubbed at his forehead with one hand, trying to banish a headache. “The truth is, I don’t know if the strike was enough. It isn’t just a question of training new crews and replacing destroyed ships. It’s about commitment. The Union is looking fragile. We have Carmichael and his crowd threatening to break away, we don’t have a solid military leadership for the Navy still, and those are just the problems we know about. Smithson is doing the best possible job, but he won’t be able to handle it all alone.”
Jacob snorted. “Well, at the very least we’re working toward a solution. Siddiqui’s actually helping us now.”
“And it never hurts our chances to have a major victory, right?” Leon grinned again, and for a moment, he was the young ensign Jacob had come to know on the Wolfhound. Then his face seemed to age, as the worries and responsibilities of his current post returned to his mind. “It would be better if we just had the referendum and were done with it, Jacob, but we do have another concern. Admiral Mirov has been building up his own base of support, especially while we were away. There were rumors you’d gone rogue, or you were planning some sort of strike against the government. His supporters were able to use that to shore up his own potential as a candidate for High Admiral.”
“I know.” Jacob brooded over that fact for a moment. He wasn't exactly pleased by the number of people who were shocked he’d returned, though the sheer annoyance his survival and victory had caused some of his opponents was extremely gratifying. “We’ll just need to work with what we’ve got.”
Then he paused and looked over at his friend. “Though I guess I should ask what brings you to the flagship. You aren’t here to ask for your position as chief of staff back, are you?”
Eagle (Jacob Hull) Page 13
