The hologram disappeared, and Jacob stared at the space where she had been. Six months since they had been assigned together, and nearly that long since he had seen a message from her, and she gave him no more contact than was professionally necessary. Obviously, the anger from that last fight had remained with her. Jacob shook his head. Should he even respond?
Still, it was better not to risk any miscommunication. The Badger was the command ship for the fleet, after all. Jacob turned on the transmitter and waited for the cameras to adjust and focus on him. A light blinked to indicate that all was ready, and he nodded to himself. “Captain Jacob Hull to CNS Badger. We have received your message and orders and will comply.” He paused. Some part of him wanted to pass a message to her directly, but he restrained himself. “Captain Jacob Hull, CNS Terrier, out.”
He touched a button and the device shut down. Jacob tapped a second control and the message was sent up to the Communications officer on the bridge. For a while, he sat, pondering over what Al-shira’s harsh expression. A thread of humor wormed its way into his melancholy thoughts. Combined with the disastrous intrusion in Upshaw’s quarters and Jacob’s consistently painful battles, a confrontation with his former fellow ensign was just what he needed to complete the horrible failure that had been his journey so far. At least he would not have to deal with it until tomorrow.
The next day, Jacob stood in the hanger of the Terrier watching the hatch open on the shuttle. Both destroyers had already approached the Badger at incredible speed, and Jacob found himself waiting for the ride over to the flagship.
The wait was not pleasant. The other captains waited alongside him. Espinoza’s face could have been carved in granite, and every glance could have drawn blood. Upshaw ignored him contemptuously and chatted with Commander Kenning. Jacob, unwilling to risk another series of poisonous barbs from his fellow officers, sat and waited.
When the shuttle was ready to leave, Jacob allowed the other officers to board first. As soon as he had strapped himself in, he nodded to the officer piloting the ship. “Lieutenant Phong, you are clear to launch. How long do you think the trip will take?”
The serious-looking lieutenant glanced back from the pilot’s seat. “It is only a short flight sir. I’d say about thirty minutes.”
Jacob nodded. Phong was definitely not on the same level as Lieutenant Iriel. Wolfhound’s former skiff ensign could have threaded through the crowded space above Ducennes in half the time. She had always tended to view objects in her way—warships, railgun projectiles, defense nets—as if they had been part of an obstacle course. In a lot of ways, Jacob missed that sort of risky flying, but it did give him hope that the inevitable meeting with Nivrosky and Al-shira would be further in the future.
Leon had transferred to the Badger early. The High Admiral obviously wanted to spend some time with his son before the official conference began. Jacob only hoped the subject of their private conservation had not turned to him. He doubted Leon and his father would bother talking about some troublesome captain, but it still worried him as the command ship grew larger in the navigation projection. He hoped that Leon was not going to give his father an earful about the combat he’d fought under Jacob. There were likely enough people complaining about the situation already.
The shuttle passed the ships floating between Terrier and Badger, weaving slowly around the Celostian craft. A Knife class frigate cut through space just below the shuttle, the railgun turrets on either side of the blade-like hull shifting slightly as if the gun crews were tracking the smaller ship. Disconcerting as that would have been, a worse feeling ran along Jacob’s spine as they flew by the next ship, a Knight class cruiser. Larger than the Terrier by nearly twice the size, it carried eight railguns, four missile bays, and one double-ranged plasma lance. The massive turret tracked the shuttle, capable of slashing through it with a single dismissive burst of superheated plasma. Bloodthorne, the former flagship of Admiral Dianton, had mounted a similar weapon despite his ship’s smaller size, and more than once the pirate had come close to gutting the Wolfhound with a spear of thermonuclear gas. Just the memory of that torrent of destruction sweeping towards his ship was enough to make Jacob shudder for a moment before they passed the cruiser by.
Kenning and Upshaw continued their incessant chatter. The two officers were discussing a recent political development in the more settled portions of the Union. The Federalists had suffered a defeat in the elections for Ankara Seating, allowing the opposing Independent party to send another representative to the House of the People. Both men were heaping abuse on the victorious candidate, mourning the apparent ignorance of the electorate. Jacob gritted his teeth and tried to block out the conversation. He had never paid much attention to politics, given his own outsider status with most of the Union. All he knew was that the former Union planet of Rigannin had been heavily invested in the Federalist party; that alone was all the endorsement he needed to vote Independent.
Jacob managed to contain his worries and annoyances long enough for the skiff to reach Badger’s shuttle bay. Lieutenant Phong brought the craft up into the bay and settled it back down inside. Jacob waited until the serious-faced officer turned to give him a thumbs-up before he unstrapped himself. The other officers all stood as well, and once again they preceded Jacob through the hatch to the deck. He followed in their wake, keeping his shoulders straight and his face impassive. As bad as this meeting was going to be, he did not want to give Upshaw the satisfaction of seeing him downcast as he went to his doom.
The High Admiral was there to collect them in person. Alan Nivrosky looked older than he had at Reefhome, though he wore the same iron-hard expression. There he had been fresh from the victories over the last great invasion from the Odurans. Nivrosky had maneuvered the Celostian fleet brilliantly, smashing their forces at Rigannin and again at Forseth. The Navy had waged a short campaign that sent the Odurans running back to their territory. Captives taken from Erad had all been recovered from the Oduran prison ships, and the entire Union had celebrated.
That good news had more than eclipsed Jacob’s own triumph over the Telosians, but he could hardly say he minded. The Union needed that good news to offset the disaster at Rigannin. Plans for treachery and secession had left the planet short of defenses when the Odurans struck, and the League’s warships had not been gentle. Every major settlement on the world had been bombed out of existence, supposedly as some sort of message from the Odurans about their superiority. All it had done was anger the Union and cement the already deep hatred between the two nations.
The High Admiral now seemed weary, almost exhausted. Over the past six months, the Odurans had attacked over a hundred times in minor skirmishes. Most were one ship strikes, taking only a single freighter or transport at a time. Others were the work of small task forces, similar to the strike Jacob’s squadron had driven away. None had included more than half a dozen ships, but the sheer attrition of the continual attacks was beginning to grind down the readiness of the Naval units stationed along the border. Central Command had to strain further and further to fill in all the gaps, and the stress was leaving its mark on the High Admiral as well.
Though his graying visage showed the marks of the almost unending war he led against the Odurans, but the High Admiral seemed more at peace now that his son stood at his side. Other officers were there as well, though Jacob could not see Al-shira among them. He tuned them out to focus on Leon.
Leon Nivrosky seemed relatively happy as well. He resembled his father with his strong jaw and brown hair, though his was not flecked with the signs of age. Leon shared a certain cold dignity, something that had bothered Jacob when they had been ensigns together on Wolfhound and Ensign "Taylor" had consistently acted as if he had a superior grasp of command. Now Jacob often wondered what decision he would have made aboard that stranded destroyer if he had known the son of the High Admiral had been standing right next to him.
Jacob waited while the High Admiral greeted the others. E
ach officer received the same welcome; a sharp salute and a few blunt words followed by one last handshake. The reactions, however, differed widely. Espinoza was similarly cool and professional, but her eyes reflected a warm sense of approval as the High Admiral passed to the next officer. Upshaw seemed very much off balance, as if the High Admiral’s grey eyed stare had stolen the force from his stiff, officious personality.
Kenning was the most interesting of all. The young commander’s face went from hopeful and excited to dismayed and downcast in less time than Jacob would have believed possible. He had obviously hoped to engage the High Admiral in the same kind of banter that had occupied Captain Upshaw so efficiently aboard the shuttle. When Nivrosky turned to address Jacob, a flash of something darker and angrier crossed Kenning’s face, but it was gone too quickly for Jacob to be sure. By the time he turned back to talk with Captain Upshaw again, Kenning was once again, by all appearances, just a friendly officer, ready to chat.
Then Admiral Nivrosky spoke, and Jacob stiffened as those grey eyes swept over him. He brought his hand up in a formal salute. “High Admiral, sir.”
Nivrosky nodded distantly and returned the salute. “Captain Jacob Hull. Welcome to the Badger. I am glad you could make it.”
Jacob waited until the High Admiral lowered his hand before he settled into his own relaxed posture. “I came as quickly as I could, sir. I hope we were not too much behind schedule, sir.”
The high Admiral’s face did not change, expressing neither approval nor condemnation. “You arrived in a timely fashion, Captain Hull. I heard there was some excitement onboard your ship in transit.”
It was all Jacob could do to keep from glaring at Captain Upshaw. “Yes, sir. We are still investigating the incident, but we have not developed any leads so far. My executive officer has instructions to continue those investigations in my absence.”
“Good. I am sure that Commander Flint will do an excellent job in your absence. I will expect you to remain aboard Badger for your assignment.” The High Admiral glanced at Leon. “I trust my son will show you to where you need to go. You are dismissed, Captain Hull.”
With little more than a nod, the High Admiral turned back to Leon. There was a brief, quiet conversation, and then Admiral Nivrosky continued with his entourage toward the nearest exit. Jacob glanced around, but the other officers had already left as well, heading out of another exit. The only people left in the hanger were Leon, a nervous looking ensign, and him.
He raised an eyebrow at Leon and then turned to the ensign. “Did you draw the short straw, Ensign Burns, or did you just get your lieutenant mad at you?”
She seemed to relax at the question. “Neither, sir. I requested the opportunity.”
The accent of her words seemed familiar, and it only took a few moments to place it. “You’re from Reefhome?”
“Not quite, but close.” She smiled. “My uncle and cousins were living there though. It was good to discover they are all still alive.” The ensign stepped toward one of the exits. “If you will follow me, sirs? Your temporary quarters are this way.”
Jacob glanced at Leon. “So we’re all going to be staying onboard? I guess this operation, whatever it is, must be pretty serious.”
“It is, Captain Hull. Very serious.” Leon’s face was grim. “We need to have a talk.”
From the tone of Leon’s voice, it wasn’t going to be a talk that Jacob would enjoy. He sighed, drawing a curious glance from the ensign. “You know, everything seemed so much more simple when I was your rank.”
The ensign gave him a tolerant grin. “I’m sure it did, sir.” She continued to lead Jacob through the corridors of the ship, and Jacob resigned himself to whatever unpleasantness he had in store.
Perhaps it wouldn’t be as bad as he had thought, anyway.
Chapter Five
His hopes only lasted until he had reached the door to his new quarters. Ensign Burns provided them access codes to their doors and then departed with a sharp salute. Jacob was left with a still solemn Leon Nivrosky obviously waiting to be invited in to discuss whatever it was that he wanted to say. There didn’t seem to be a way around the conversation.
“Commander Nivrosky, is there something you need to discuss with me?”
Leon nodded. “I believe so, Jacob. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all, Commander. Not at all.” Jacob opened the hatch to his quarters and walked in. It was a moderate sized room, with a narrow cot on the right and a desk against the wall on the left. There were two chairs, one at the desk and the other up against the back wall of the room. Jacob strode over to the one at the back, pausing to pull out the chair at the desk for his fellow officer. He fell into the seat and managed a weary smile as Leon sat. “Well, Commander, what can I do for you?”
Leon returned his smile. “I was just hoping to catch up with you, Captain Hull. It seems like it has been a while since we last made contact, and I would prefer to have a closer working relationship with my superior officer if I can manage it.”
Jacob stiffened. He met Leon’s eyes with a cold stare. “Are you suggesting that I have not been in contact with you, Commander Nivrosky? It isn’t like I have been ignoring your reports.”
Leon’s smile faded slightly. “I meant something that would have required you to actually speak with me, Captain. Lately you haven’t been ready to give me much more time than you have my Countermeasures officer, though I’d bet you have spoken more with her these past few weeks.” He tilted his head to the side. “Have you lost confidence in me, Jacob? Or have I somehow betrayed your trust?”
Jacob shook his head. “No, but—”
“Then I suggest, respectfully, that you stop acting like it. Sir.” Leon’s face shifted into an expression very much similar to the one his father had worn just a few moments earlier. The resemblance was unsettling to say the least.
There was a moment of tense silence, and then Jacob looked away. “I’m sorry, Leon. With everything that had been happening in the squadron, I just assumed it would be easier for you if I maintained a distance.”
Leon snorted. “And Isaac can handle the horrors of being associated with you when I can’t? I hoped I had gained at least the same level of respect from you that he has, after all we’ve gone through.”
The rebuke hit home, as did the sudden reminder of Isaac’s present sullen attitude towards him. Jacob forced a smile. “Well, it’s more like I thought he had a lot less to lose, Leon. After all, the son of the High Admiral can’t be seen slumming with the maverick of Tiredel’s defense forces.”
Leon snorted again, amused this time. “The son of the High Admiral can slum with whoever he damn well chooses. I don’t remember you standing so much on formality back in the Wolfhound. You were actually pretty militant in coming from the other direction, I believe.”
He gave his former Gunnery officer a resentful look. “I wasn’t that bad. Besides, if you recall, we were both pretty busy back then. Something about pirates, I think.”
Leon grunted. “Better to be fighting them than the damn Odurans. Mean as they were, those Telosians couldn’t shoot straight enough or fast enough to match some of these League ships.”
The reminder of the raids along the border was sobering. Jacob nodded. “You’re right, but then again we have more ships to fight them with now.”
Leon grimaced. “At least, we have them for now. There’s been some talk about decommissioning the Hunter class destroyers completely. Something about the class lacking the appropriate armor to protect our crews, having sacrificed it to overload on firepower.” The commander shook his head, disagreement plain on his face. “Of course, they’ve never seen what that kind of firepower can do in the right situation, so they’re ignoring everything we did in Reefhome just to sweep the whole upgrade program under the rug.”
Jacob grunted in agreement. He couldn’t believe what he’d heard, but it made far too much sense. A few other things started to make sense as well, and his jaw tightene
d. “That must be why they haven’t gotten Wolfhound and the others back online yet. They’re not sure they want to spend the money if they’re just going to decommission the ships anyway.” The image of Wolfhound being dragged from some dock for scrap flashed before his eyes. Anger started to burn in him, and he looked up to meet Leon’s gaze. “How likely is it that they’ll do it?”
The other commander sighed and leaned forward, his hands clasped. “Just between you and me, it looks bad, Jacob. The fighting between the Federalists and the Independents has been worse than usual this year. Both sides are fighting tooth and nail over everything, including which ships get fixed and which do not.” He shifted his shoulders uncomfortably. “The Federalists style themselves as pro-military, but they dislike anything that seems too offensive-minded. You know how they keep trying to set up peace talks even while the shooting is still going on.”
“Idiots.” Jacob shook his head, and his disgust with the politics grew that much deeper. “I always thought the Feds were blind.”
“Not that the Independents are much better.” Leon raised an eyebrow at Jacob and snorted. “Come now, Jacob, you really think they’re any more behind the military than the Federalists are? One of the basic principles behind their platform is that the military is far too easily abused by tyrants looking to secure power. They almost always favor downgrading military funding to try all sorts of stupid projects like arming mechantmen and the like. They seem to want to revert back to the militias the Union used to depend on back when Maxwell was in charge.” He shook his head. “As if a bunch of merchantmen with a railgun mount apiece and a few missile ports could stand up to an Oduran destroyer. In fact, I think their representatives started the whole business to begin with.”
Jacob shrugged uncomfortably. He’d heard of some of the more radical elements of the Independents express similar sentiments, but he’d always thought the rest of the party was less foolish. Apparently he had been wrong. “So both of them are after us now?” Leon nodded, and Jacob clenched his hands. “Damn it. If only we could outfit the destroyers with the armor setup we had on Wolfhound. That would give them something to talk about. The Odurans too.”
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