Eagle (Jacob Hull)

by Debenham, Kindal

  Jacob opened his mouth to snap back at her. Then he stopped himself and tried to reign in his first reaction. “So what are you saying, Naomi? Is there something you want me to do?”

  Al-shira shrugged. “I don’t know. All I do know is I don’t want to be the weapon they use to get at you.” She met his eyes. “Even if it means not being near you.”

  “I…see.” He could, in a way. Not that he understood how to solve the problem. He shook his head again to clear it of his frustration. “I guess this is probably the best time to talk about your next assignment then.”

  “My next assignment?” Al-shira’s expression had grown uncertain. “What would that be?”

  Jacob forced himself to grin. “You might be a little skeptical, but it is something I came up with before we got the message from Celostia.” He looked away and tried to smooth the roughness from his voice. “The damage Admiral Yeseti has done goes deeper than anything she might tell Carmichael or even the Odurans. Intelligence, as a department, is going to be honeycombed with her spies, and even if it wasn’t, morale there is going to be shot.”

  There was a long pause before Al-shira responded. “That would be correct, Sir.”

  Jacob tapped one finger on the desk for a moment, staring at the reader in front of him. Then he met her gaze again. “I’m glad you agree. We need someone to start straightening out the mess—to begin rooting out Yeseti’s moles and rebuilding the department’s assets. That’s going to be your job, effective immediately.”

  Al-shira’s eyes narrowed. She searched his face for a moment, as if looking for clues. “You’re certain about this, Jacob? It’s going to look like favoritism, no matter how you spin it.”

  “To hell with what they think, Naomi!” Jacob struggled to regain control of his temper. “You’re right. I’m High Admiral now, and you’re probably right about the rumors and suspicions, but that’s going to be true no matter where I put you. I need someone I trust to do this, and you’re it.” He allowed a flicker of bitterness to seep into his tone. “Of course, if you don’t feel competent for it, you could always submit your resignation. Sit the rest of the war out?”

  Al-shira gave him a glare that could have burned paint off a hull. “Thanks but no thanks, Sir.” She gestured to the hatch. “You’re sure there’s no one else? Why not Isaac?”

  Jacob didn’t flinch. “Isaac might have the skills, but he isn’t reliable. He has too much baggage, especially when it comes to anyone connected to Kenning. I need to have someone I can count on to do her duty, no matter what happens. Someone I can count on to see things clearly, no matter what their personal feelings might be. Most importantly, I need someone who will work like hell to make this investigation turn our Intelligence community into something useful again, rather than making it a witch-hunt. Can you do that, Captain Al-shira?”

  Al-shira studied him so long Jacob started to think she might refuse, as if searching for any sign of insincerity or doubt. Then she nodded sharply. “Damn it, Jacob. You never make things easy, you know that?”

  “Turnabout is fair play, Captain.” Jacob pushed himself up out of his seat. “Now, I’m sure you’re going to need some time to put together a plan of action. I expect a report from you as soon as possible.”

  “As ordered, High Admiral.” She hadn’t stopped glaring at him.

  A humorous part of Jacob’s mind noted he didn’t know if that was a good sign or a bad one.

  “Is there anything else you’d like to say to me, sir?”

  “No.” Jacob walked to the door and opened it. “Thank you for your concern, Captain Al-shira. Dismissed.”

  Al-shira saluted and left. Jacob watched her go, feeling a combination of anger, frustration, and guilt roiling in his gut. Until that moment, he hadn’t thought it was possible gain everything he’d hoped for and still feel like he’d lost the only thing that mattered to him. Then he turned and started on his own journey through the corridors. He did have another assignment to make, and he only hoped it was less of an argument than this one had been.

  “Well if it isn’t the High Admiral, come to bask in our admiration.” Turley grinned at him from behind a mask of sweat and some sort of machine oil. Obviously, he’d been in up to his elbows in something before Jacob arrived, and probably still would have been at it if his subordinates hadn’t sent word the High Admiral was en route. “To what do we owe the fine pleasure?”

  “Just checking up on your progress, Lieutenant Commander Turley.” Jacob smiled. “With everything that’s been happening, I have a feeling the rest of the Union is going to need the Eagle sooner rather than later.”

  Turley grunted. “Then you might have been a little less damn rough on the equipment in Central Countermeasures, sir. Between that and the grenades you set off in the hallway, there was an awful lot to repair.” Then he shook his head. “All the same, glad you made it out of that mess. How’s Ashford been? We’ve missed him down here.”

  “General Ashford is fine, Turley. In fact, I was just there talking to him.” Jacob smiled grimly. The visit had gone almost as well as his conversation with Al-shira, though it had hurt far less and he’d at least gotten what he’d wanted in the end.

  “General Ashford!” Turley raised both eyebrows. “When did that happen? For that matter, when did the Marines even have generals?”

  “Just now, actually.” Jacob shrugged. “The Admiralty Board hasn’t had a Marine on it yet, and the idea that a regular Navy officer has an effective grasp of the needs of the Marines is a bit pompous. If anyone has figured that out, I have.” Memories of the assassination attempt and the attack on the Wolfhound flashed through Jacob’s mind for a moment, and then he continued. “General Ashford will be a full member of the Board now, and he’s going to be in direct command of the Marine Training Center on Carvell. As soon as he’s stable enough to travel and work, that’s where he’ll be headed.”

  “Wow.” For a moment, Turley seemed too off balance to speak. Then he grinned broadly. “And how did our resident optimist take the change in assignment?”

  “Oh, he accepted it with his usual good humor.” Jacob grinned back. “I believe he said something about how I’d failed to get him killed the normal way and I was apparently trying to finish the job with sheer boredom and paperwork.” As Turley started to chuckle, Jacob rolled his eyes. “He might have used a few more colorful words than I did, though.”

  “Damn sure he did!” Turley shook his head, still chuckling. “I can just picture those poor little green Marines on Carvell, looking for a hand to hold. He’s going to be quite a surprise for them.” The old engineer turned a wary gaze on Jacob. “I don’t suppose you’re going to promote me or some such damn foolishness, are you?”

  “Take a plasma bolt for me, and I might consider it.” Fighting a sudden burst of grim humor, Jacob spread his arms wide. “I think the Eagle needs you here, Lieutenant Commander. Unless you’re looking for a transfer?”

  Turley grimaced. “Not in the least. You’ve given me plenty of work here to do, and I don’t fancy dealing with more than I am at the moment. Besides, I’m getting on in years. It might be time to leave all the grunt work to the next batch of fools. Not that I plan on doing that before I get your damn flagship repaired again.”

  Glad to avoid the topic of Turley leaving the Navy — when had that suddenly become a possibility? — Jacob gestured to the Engineering section around them. “So when do you think the Eagle will be ready for duty again?”

  “Sooner than we’d hoped, actually.” Turley looked around the cramped corridors fondly. “The ship is very well built. She might be old and she took a terrific beating in Kryshaen, but she held together with plenty of fight to spare. We had most of the damage repaired before your little adventure with Yeseti’s band of trigger happy lunatics, and even with that extra internal damage, we should be able to have just about everything sorted out by the end of the week, maybe two on the outside.”

  Before Jacob could sigh in relief, Turley
glanced at him and added. “Of course, by ready I don’t mean exactly combat capable. A lot of the internal armoring needs to be reworked and replaced. We’ll be able to fight because those areas were isolated from critical systems, but in terms of taking the kind of beating we took at Kryshaen…” The engineer shook his head. “We’d come out of it in much worse shape. If we managed to come out of it at all, I should say.”

  “I’ll take that into advisement, Lieutenant Commander.” Jacob frowned in thought. The Eagle was one of the most powerful weapons the Union had at the moment. If he faced a situation where he had to risk it, if the separatists managed a lucky hit, or the Odurans somehow managed to commit all of their dreadnaughts before he thought they’d be able to…

  “Said like a true flag officer, High Admiral.” Turley grunted sourly. “May I ask where you are planning on taking us so urgently?”

  “I’m not sure.” Jacob paused. “If we move on San Marcos, we will need the Eagle. The same goes if the Odurans begin to move across the border, but they could strike in any of two or three major areas, or in dozens a lower value targets. All I know is the sooner we finish these repairs and are operational again, the more comfortable I’ll be.”

  “Understood, Sir. We won’t let you down.” Turley ran a hand along a bulkhead, thinking over his responsibilities. “We can work on the armor when we get to where we are going. It won’t get done quite as fast as it would while we are here at New Vermont, but we will do the best we can.”

  “I know you will, Lieutenant Commander.” Jacob looked around at the busy corridors of Engineering, wondering just how far he could push things before they would break. Somehow, he had to keep things together. Otherwise when the enemy struck, the entire Union would shatter. The lives of millions, and the freedom of billions more, depended on him being able to outfight and outguess his enemies. He hoped was good enough to not let them down.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Two days before the Eagle was scheduled for release from the docking slips at New Vermont, Jacob received a call from Captain Martino. He looked up from the reports on his reader and touched the control on his console. “Yes, Captain? How can I help you?”

  “Sir, a ship has just arrived in the system.” Martino paused. “They are requesting an immediate meeting with you.”

  Jacob blinked and sat back. “A ship? Did the High Seat send it from Celostia?”

  “No, Sir.” Martino paused again, a hint of relief in his tone. “It’s von Clarence’s ship, sir. He’s come back.”

  Von Clarence didn’t appear any worse for wear when he crossed through the hatch of the conference room. His robes were just as immaculate, and his expresion was as belligerently tough as before. There was a hint of weariness; from what Jacob had heard of his efforts, that fatigue was not surprising. What was surprising was both Nathan Maxwell and his advisor, Al-Kesh had accompanied him to the meeting—a meeting Jacob had specifically requested they have alone.

  Jacob folded his arms behind his back to keep them from seeing him clench his fists. He nodded to them politely when they walked in, and he indicated the seats at the table with a gesture. “High Elder von Clarence. Mr. Maxwell, Mr. Al-Kesh. Thank you all for coming.”

  Nathan Maxwell looked weary as well, and worried on top of it. He moved to one of the chairs around the table, followed by a very anxious-looking Al-Kesh. Von Clarence gave Jacob a cold, almost annoyed stare before he joined his companions. Jacob let them all settle in and then he walked around the table to face them. “Gentlemen, how was your trip?”

  Despite his attempt to keep things casual, Jacob saw von Clarence’s harden in anger. “It was not a vacation, Admiral Hull. We were attempting to keep San Marcos associated with the Union.”

  “’That's High Admiral Hull, Mr. von Clarence.” Jacob held the man’s stare for a long moment. “As for your attempt to make peace, it does not look like it worked. I guess your plan was to break their blockade and risk being shot down.” He let his anger darken his tone. “I do wonder if you thought about what would have happened if they did shoot you down. Did you not realize what kind of a collective aneurysm that would have given the entire Union? What were you thinking?”

  Von Clarence met Jacob’s glare with one of his own. “Sometimes a risk is worth taking. If we had been able to sway the separatists from their course, it would have been worth it.”

  “Well thank goodness you managed to take them off guard with your lack of foresight.”

  Von Clarence gathered himself for a retort, and Nathan laid a hand on his arm. “We felt the Carmichael faction on San Marcos would hesitate to harm us as long as we broadcasted our identity and intentions clearly enough—and, might I point out, we were right.”

  Jacob looked between Nathan and von Clarence for a moment. Then he sighed. “Fine. We’ll try to clarify what might be an acceptable risk or not later. I take it your wonderful, daring mission didn’t convince the separatists to stay in the fold?”

  Von Clarence shook his head. “No, Admiral—I apologize, High Admiral. Two weeks ago, a batch of Carmichael’s thugs paid us a visit and told us to get off the planet. They showed us an official demand from the government of San Marcos, saying that due to the threats of our new military overlord, they could no longer compromise their security by allowing us to be on the planet. We were then taken to our ship, our computer records were scrubbed, and we were allowed to riftjump out.”

  Jacob took a moment to work through the timetable in his head. “Two weeks ago. I suppose that’s probably about when she got there then.”

  Seeing his visitors react with a bit of puzzlement, Jacob leaned forward. “A few days before that, Admiral Yeseti attempted to kill me. She had a team of assassins ambush me on the Eagle, and when they failed, she escaped the system onboard a merchant craft registered to a company on San Marcos.”

  Al-Kesh blinked and began to dry wash his hands. Nathan sat back in his chair, realization dawning on his expression.

  Von Clarence, however, merely cocked his head to one side. “We hadn’t heard anything about that on the networks.”

  With a grim smile, Jacob sat back and folded his arms across his chest. “We decided it was best to keep the attack low-key. Given the level of Admiral Yeseti’s access, we needed to make a clean sweep of the Intelligence officers she’s overseen. The fewer who see us coming, the better.” Then he glanced down. “The attack killed one of my guards, severely wounded another. A third is still in a critical condition. They still aren’t sure he will survive.”

  When he looked up, Jacob saw a flicker of compassion in von Clarence’s expression. “I’m sorry to hear that, Admiral Hull.” The former High Seat looked at his companions. “It does, however, explain a few things.”

  Nathan glanced at him, “You’re thinking of the incident a couple of days before they threw us out?” Von Clarence nodded. “That is probably when they decided to harbor her.”

  “Or when she arrived with news her efforts had failed.” Von Clarence looked back to Jacob, his face grim. “Perhaps they had meant to keep us as hostages once you were dead to prevent a Navy attack. They must not have trusted you would stay out if they threatened our lives.”

  Jacob blinked. “You think so?”

  Von Clarence chuckled grimly. “No offense meant, High Admiral, but you do have something of a reputation. I’m sure they thought the only result of declaring us hostages would be to encourage you to threaten the entire planet with retaliation if we were not returned.” He glanced at Nathan, who nodded, and then he turned to look at Al-Kesh. “Besides, we were becoming something of a liability to them anyway.”

  Al-Kesh smiled slightly, though the humor drained from his expression when Jacob turned to him as well. Anxiety replaced it. “As we had suspected when we left, the government of San Marcos has managed to disenfranchise quite a bit of their population. We were able to contact and begin a counter-movement against the leaders preaching separatism.”

  “Disenfranchise?” Ja
cob frowned. “They aren’t allowing them to vote? That’s a guaranteed right every Union citizen has.”

  Al-Kesh shook his head. “Voting and being heard by the government are two different things. San Marcos is in a declared state of emergency that has allowed several leaders to avoid election deadlines and wield powers far outside their normal boundaries.”

  Von Clarence grunted. “It’s rather common in situations such as these. A smaller, influential group manages to gain control of local authority and tries to keep anyone from interfering with their plans. The whims of the majority tend to counteract that, which is why the Regal Seat designed the Articles of Union to give the people the power to choose their fate—and their leaders.” He scowled. “When one of those leaders starts breaking those boundaries for their own personal benefit, they often try to cite the need for public safety as the reason for their flagrant violation of democratic principles.”

  Jacob sat back in his seat. “So you’re saying the people of San Marcos do not want to leave the Union, but their leaders do?”

  “That assessment may be overly optimistic.” Von Clarence frowned. “I did not mean to be so broad with my implications. Some of those people might have supported separation no matter what the circumstances; others have been bullied or terrified into agreement as well. Keep in mind most of them gathered in San Marcos in the first place because they distrusted the central authority of the Union, or were looking for greater freedom and independence on the Frontier.”

  Then the former High Seat smiled. “However, there is a significant faction of the population that has not found the leaders in Carmichael’s group any less tyrannical than what they feared we would be. Others have found their future on San Marcos isn’t any less bleak or restrained than what they experienced in the center of the Union. Those portions of the populace would never support the extra hardships of a war with the Union and are less likely to trust Carmichael’s promises of a grand utopia once he has ultimate power over their lives.”