Eagle (Jacob Hull)

by Debenham, Kindal

  Jacob smiled. “I trust both of them are doing fine on their own as well.”

  With a gesture, von Clarence dismissed the statement. “Not well enough I would leave them on their own to have an idle chat, High Admiral. Why have you called me here?”

  The blunt question was typical, but Jacob pushed aside his reflexive resentment of it for a moment. He had, after all, invited the man here this time. It was reasonable to be polite. “I need your help, High Elder. We have a situation concerning the enemy fleet.”

  Von Clarence’s expression shifted, and he leaned back in his chair. A knowing look had come into his eyes. “I take it your plans have not gone well?”

  Jacob grimaced. “No. They have not.” He paused, very much unwilling to describe the circumstances of the situation since he was aware of what reaction they would bring, but he forced himself to continue. “The majority of the enemy fleet has vanished. Only a small garrison fleet was left behind.”

  “Oh?” Von Clarence raised his eyebrows, surprise plan on his features. “Then why are your ships still here, High Admiral? If I may ask, of course.”

  Aside from the wry tone of the last few words, von Clarence appeared to be entirely sincere and respectful. Jacob faltered for a moment, off-balance. Then he continued, bracing himself for the scorn he knew would come. “We are not entirely sure of where they might have gone. The possibility might be they would jump out to confuse us, or to draw our forces out of Tiredel so they could strike in our absence—”

  “But that doesn’t sound entirely like something our dear Admiral Yeseti would do.” Von Clarence folded his arms. “She is a clever woman, but not one I particularly would expect to utilize double blinds and such. One of the most surprising aspects of her treachery after all was merely the fact she was able to sustain the charade of true loyalty to the Union long enough to get to flag rank.”

  Jacob nodded slowly, searching for any possible offensive twists on the words, but the scorn he had expected to be directed at him seemed to be turned elsewhere. Von Clarence appeared unaware of Jacob’s hesitation, and his gaze grew distant; he was deep in thought.

  “No, Yeseti liked to do things directly, especially if she could strike back at someone in a personal way. She enjoyed causing regret in her opponents, and one of the most striking things about her was the utter determination to do the most harm while avoiding any possible risk to herself.”

  Feeling more on balance, Jacob smiled. “That sort of thing is common in the military, Sir.”

  Von Clarence smiled. “No, High Admiral, I’m afraid I must disagree.” He leaned forward and tapped a knuckle on Jacob desk. “It is true many warriors seek to preserve their forces, or they may try to strike with brutal effect, but in either case they will be willing to take a risk. They brave the unknown if they need to, face difficult odds if it will yield the greatest benefit to their cause. Yeseti will not risk herself in that way. She will try to do harm, but she would never follow a plan that would put her in personal danger. It would not matter to her if it might be required to achieve her goals.”

  Jacob blinked. His mind went back to the assassination attempt. Yeseti had run even before the attack had commenced. “She’s a coward, you’re saying.”

  Satisfaction glimmered in von Clarence’s eyes. “Exactly, High Admiral Hull. She believes herself too precious and important to gamble. In fact, I believe that may be why she never attacked Tiredel.”

  “What?” Jacob shook his head. “Why? She had more than enough forces to beat us, from what she could see.”

  “Yes, but you see, Yeseti knew you had the refitted ships here. They are a threat, one she doesn’t entirely understand. Her allies have seen the damage they can do.” Von Clarence tapped his temple. “The danger was a threat that would have eaten at her. I suspect you spent a lot of effort keeping her spies from finding out too much about them, if I know you, and that would lead a lot of uncertainties in terms of the risk.” Then he grinned. “Also, there is the fact that in coming here she would face you. It’s not that she doesn’t want to kill you—I’d wager she would want that almost more than victory itself—but you might have the chance to kill her in return, even if you just managed to crash the Eagle into her flagship.”

  Jacob chuckled. “Well, it wouldn’t have been my first plan, but…”

  Von Clarence laughed, waving a hand in front of him. “My apologies, High Admiral. I promised myself—after I promised both Shareed and Nathan, multiple times— I would be civil. I am somewhat out of practice.” He fell silent. “Coward or not, she is still dangerous. Where else might she strike?”

  “That is the problem, sir.” Jacob gestured to the image of the star map. “Our most vulnerable points are at New Manassas and Erad, but she could strike at either location. Could there be any of the refugees on Tiredel who would be able to tell me what plans the enemy was making?”

  “I’m afraid not, High Admiral.” Von Clarence’s tone conveyed regret. “The grand majority of the refugees were from the poorer classes on San Marcos, and they were not allowed access to any of the information you would need to guess the Collective’s intentions. In fact, Carmichael and the other leaders on San Marcos had instituted such strict regulations on their planet some of them felt little change when they were moved into the internment camps. Carmichael did not risk any of his secrets when he deported them here.”

  Jacob grunted, his hope beginning to fade. It had been a long shot, but perhaps he would find some other way. “I’m sorry to hear that, sir. I regret we wasted your time, but thank you for your help.”

  “I did not say I was finished yet.” Von Clarence’s eyes flashed, but then he smiled. “While you do not have anyone available who might know Carmichael’s plans, you do have someone who knows Yeseti. I had to put up with her for years, and if anyone near Tiredel knows her better, I would be rather surprised. I believe she was given command over the fleet, instead of Carmichael or the Oduran?”

  Surprised, Jacob nodded. “Yes, she was.”

  Von Clarence stood and strode over to the image of the star map. “I imagine that involved quite a bit of politicking, but Yeseti has the patience for it when she sees sufficient reward. Carmichael must have been scared after his close call in this system—for which I should be grateful.” He gave Jacob a respectful nod, which Jacob returned. Then von Clarence turned back to the map. “The Oduran likely would have headed for Tiredel as soon as he assumed command. They always strike at the heart of our forces, aiming for the leader, and your strategy to draw them here—if that is what it was—would have worked perfectly.”

  Jacob studied von Clarence for a moment. “They didn’t come here though.”

  “No. Your plan would have fooled an Oduran, but we face a Celostian, High Admiral Hull.” Von Clarence waved at the star map. “She will focus on foiling your plans, not defeating your leadership in combat. That is how we are trained—discern the machinations of our foes, throw some convenient wrench in the works, and take advantage of the weakness that comes when the chaos strikes.” The former High Seat turned to look at him. “Did you have some grand strategy in the works, Jacob, that she could ruin? I ask not for curiosity’s sake, but because I believe it to be relevant to Yeseti’s plans.”

  The caution in von Clarence’s tone seemed almost unnatural, but Jacob pushed his own misgivings aside. “She may have been aware of our basic strategy. Those plans changed due to her defection.”

  “The details, perhaps, but not the overall picture?” Von Clarence didn’t pause to allow his question to be answered. “That would likely explain the weak forces you had here in Tiredel. It was part of a greater strategy to trap the enemy.”

  Jacob restrained his response to a mere nod, but von Clarence was too absorbed in his own process to apparently notice. The High Seat turned back to the map. “If you had originally planned a trap, you likely would have set it at the Manassas Fords. The Fords would be a perfect snare—I, for one, can testify to how deadly an ambush can
be sprung against a force in a spot like that one. You were forced to change the plans and spring your trap here, but I don’t think Yeseti would completely believe it.”

  Von Clarence reached out one hand to trace through the display of stars. “No, she would think the original plan was in place, and that she had to convince you to ruin your own preparations so she could proceed to her real target. Tiredel was a tempting spot, but you were here. Erad, as I have heard, has been reinforced. So she threatens Tiredel, convinces you to send orders to draw forces from New Manassas—orders which may have been false, but she didn’t know it—and believes she has finally figured out which spot was your snare. Then she leaves, hoping to strike before you figure out what she’s done.”

  “New Manassas.” Jacob stared at von Clarence. It made sense, but part of him wondered if it was because he wanted an answer more than he wanted to see clearly. “She’s heading there because she thinks she’s removed the trap I was planning there. Yeseti would actually think I’d keep to the same plan, even after her defection?”

  The former High Seat smiled. “She never was a truly flexible thinker, Jacob. Ambitious, sneaky, clever—she was all of those, but she prefers to think in definite terms. She believes you to be a strategic neophyte. If you presented her with inaccurate intelligence that suggested the same kind of strategic outlook, she would believe you had kept the same plans. Besides, she would never believe a leader would be stupid enough to use themselves as bait.”

  Jacob smiled. “Well I am happy to have had such a poor reputation with Admiral Yeseti, then.” His smile faded as he turned back to the map. “You’re sure of this.”

  Von Clarence’s smile grew sad. “We all have our own areas of experience, Admiral Hull, thanks to what life has given us. Nathan Maxwell has lived a life of courage and compassion, which have given him a warm heart; Shareed Al-Kesh has experienced the consequences of pride and oppression, but he has been allowed to see more clearly as a result.” His expression became shadowed by something that might have been guilt. “My own life has been marked by treachery, Jacob, and so I know something of the seditious heart. It allows me to see what these would-be tyrants will do. Yeseti will strike at New Manassas, and it is there you must go.”

  The sincerity of those words made them unquestionable. Jacob felt the decision grow clear in his mind. “Thank you, Mr. Von Clarence.”

  “Roderick, High Admiral.” Von Clarence made a dismissive gesture. “In my experience, too much formality can strangle a man. Please call me Roderick.”

  Jacob came around the desk. He extended his hand. “Then thank you, Roderick. The Union as a whole may again owe you a debt of gratitude.”

  Von Clarence chuckled. “If so, my actions merely lessen the burden of my own debts to it—and to the brave men and women who support it so ably.” He took Jacob’s hand and shook it firmly. Then he seemed to age suddenly, as if the weight of his years had finally caught him. “Jacob, I believe my time is over now. You are here to look after the Union and her people. Their safety will depend on you. Take care of them.”

  With a grin, Jacob nodded. “I will do my best, Roderick. Don’t go anywhere in the meantime; the Union may need you again if this doesn’t work.”

  He’d meant the words as a joke, but Jacob’s words were met with another solemn smile. “I make you no promises, High Admiral Jacob Hull.” Then von Clarence gestured to the star map, where the dot representing New Manasses waited. “Now I believe you have somewhere to go, and as my father always said, it is better to be up and doing. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  All told, it took two and a half days to reach Manassas Fords. Jacob had pushed the fleet hard to make the journey—in particular, Eagle’s jump generator crew and Capistan engineers had begun cursing Jacob at every opportunity—but now that he faced the last jump from the command center, he was only hoping he’d made it to the place before the enemy had.

  Of course, it would have been easier if Manassas Fords was not such a difficult place to reach. The nature of the area, however, made it the perfect place for an ambush. Riftjumping to the Fords was extremely dangerous, given the amount of dark matter in the vicinity. A ship that riftjumped through a patch of dark matter simply never returned; no evidence had ever been found of the ships to suggest they were ever destroyed, but from what Jacob knew, that was only evidence they didn’t quite exist anymore. Even DE sails occasionally had trouble when they encountered high concentrations of the exotic particles, and dark energy currents were usually rather erratic and violent in such places as well.

  There were many places along the border that had such groups of dark matter, but even then, the Fords stood out as unique. The Fords was one of the places dark matter had gathered in large clumps, forcing ships to transit through a small window in space; it had the added obstacle of a local gaseous nebula. The entire system had large number of asteroids and pebble-sized rocks scattered through the system, forcing ships to slow their initial velocity or risk damage from small impacts with the tiny debris. It was the perfect place to catch an enemy when maneuvering was difficult and escape impossible.

  The moment the riftjump brought his ships into the system, Jacob stiffened from shock. The Eagle’s sensors started picking out the light from DE sails scattered all over the system. There were dozens of them, moving in formation around the area of the Fords itself. He stared at the glowing beacons for a moment, and then he turned to the officer assigned to interface with the task force’s sensor teams. “Get me a read on those ships. I want to know how the Odurans got here before us, and how many ships they were able to bring with them.”

  “Yes, Sir.” The officer bent to the task, and Jacob’s eyes returned to the contacts. There was something odd about the way they moved; the course changes were too regular and coordinated, almost as if a computer had been entrusted with piloting duties. No crew would trust a clumsy AI that far, however; the changing nature of the dark energy currents, especially here, would make such a move foolish. These ships were moving slowly, however; perhaps the Odurans were more confident in their computers?

  He looked over at the sensor team officer, who was frowning at her console. “Lieutenant Ceras, what kind of ships are we facing?”

  “Sir, they’re…odd.” She shook her head. “They don’t appear to be warships sir. Here, I’m sending you the details now.”

  Jacob looked back at his own screens and found a schematic of one of the sensor contacts. The more detailed image was indeed strange. Instead of a sleek hull of a warship or the bulging, bloated form of a merchant craft, it was a rock. A rock with DE sails mounted on it. “Lieutenant?”

  “Sir, that’s what the sensors are showing us.” She frowned down at her console, fingers flying over the keys. “According to our readings, Sir, more than three quarters of the contacts are actually made up of these things. I’m not quite sure what to make of them.”

  “High Admiral!” The officer over communications wore an enthusiastic expression. “We have a signal from Captain Nivrosky, sir.”

  Jacob blinked. What was going on? “Put it through to me, Lieutenant.” When the officer complied, Leon’s face appeared on one of Jacob’s monitors. The Navy officer wore a curious expression, though he lessened that impression with a confident smile.

  “This is Captain Leon Nivrosky of the Celostian Navy, Manassas Fords detachment. It is good to see you High Admiral, but I would appreciate an update on the situation whenever you find it convenient. Captain Nivrosky, out.”

  For a moment, Jacob stared at the screen. Then he looked over at the sensors officer, who wore an increasingly harried expression. “Lieutenant Gaines, have we located the Galahad in all this mess?”

  “Yes, Sir.” The Lieutenant tapped a few keys, and one of the ships blinked yellow. “Captain Leon’s flagship appears to be here, in the middle of the formation of asteroids. The signal we received originated from there, at least.”

  Jacob tapped another key a
nd linked his comm to the bridge. “This is High Admiral Hull. Have the Eagle proceed to the Galahad. The rest of the fleet will take up patrol positions.” He paused, still suspicious of some form of trick. “Have them stay clear of those asteroids until we know what we are dealing with. High Admiral, out.”

  Then he leaned back in his chair and watched as his task force moved into the system. No Oduran ships were identified, but Jacob could not quite allow himself to believe there wasn’t some kind of mischief waiting for him after all.

  When Leon stepped through Jacob’s door, he looked exhausted. The work of maintaining the defenses for New Manassas alone had taken its toll on the officer, but Jacob could detect a hint of pride in Leon’s expression. He had succeeded in keeping anyone from knowing about the weakness of his forces for weeks, and Jacob had received nothing but glowing reports about his interactions with the local governor at New Manassas. Leon had done well.

  Despite his obvious fatigue, Leon came to a parade-ground perfect stance and saluted. “Captain Nivrosky, reporting.”

  Jacob stood and returned the salute. “Welcome, Captain.” He motioned to the chair and Leon fell into it with a sigh that made Jacob smile. “I’m glad to see you are doing well here.”

  “It’s good to see you too, Jacob.” Leon looked around the cabin. “Though I am surprised Naomi didn’t decide to come along.”

  “We…both decided it was for the best.” Jacob tried to keep his unhappiness from his face, but he doubted he succeeded. The decision had not been as mutual as he had implied. In fact, he was surprised the argument hadn’t been heard in the Oduran League. When Leon raised an eyebrow at him, Jacob felt compelled to continue. “She had responsibilities on Tiredel, and the only thing she could do aboard the Eagle would be getting herself killed. I asked her to continue reorganizing the Intelligence department instead. Eventually she agreed, and said she had a few plans along those lines already in motion.”