Badger

by Kindal Debenham

  Whatever Nivrosky must have been expecting when the trial had started, things had clearly not gone his way. The trial had been brutal, with every single command decision exposed to scrutiny and debate. Officer after officer had given their accounts of the battle and the events that led up to it, and all had placed the blame for the supposed disaster squarely on Nivrosky’s shoulders.

  Finally, the prosecution called for a momentary recess. Jacob managed to work his way free of the Hall, desperate for an escape from the suffocating atmosphere of despair inside the room. Each of the witnesses had been given a small conference room to rest in, though they had not been permitted to speak with each other during the break. Kenning had nearly managed to break that rule by pushing through to the crowd toward him, but at the last moment Jacob had gotten away. He didn’t need to talk to the man a second time, not when everything seemed to be going to hell anyway.

  For a few moments he leaned back against the door and let his head fall back against the wood. It took a while for his breathing to steady. As the bands of iron around his chest loosened, he opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. Everything was moving so fast. What was he going to do?

  “A rough day, captain?” Al-shira’s voice brought Jacob’s head forward with a snap. He stared, open-mouthed, as she stretched and leaned back in her chair. “This is a pretty nice mess you’ve put yourself in, Captain Hull, but at least you’ve managed to upgrade the seats. The ones on Wolfhound always hurt my back.”

  “What—How did you—” Jacob shook his head, uncertain about whether he felt frustrated or relieved to find her here. “Did the guards let you in here?”

  Al-shira shrugged, nonchalant. “I suppose they did. You tell people you’re carrying a message from the flagship, they tend to let you in to where you need to be.” She put her feet back on the ground and stood. “So, captain, how is the trial going?”

  Jacob winced. The short answer was it was not going well. Kenning had given a version of the intelligence report he had delivered in the original briefing, only this time he seemed to suggest the entire attempt of neutralizing the General was useless from the beginning. His analysis of the Oduran leadership now seemed to directly contradict what he had said during the briefing, and the defense lawyer pointed that fact out. Unfortunately for the High Admiral, the commander had a ready defense—he had been instructed to prepare a briefing to explain the goals of the meeting, not to justify it in the first place. A more complete briefing would have included both views. Jacob had no doubt the officer had buried the very phrases he had used within the text of his original analysis; it was just the sort of move Kenning would use to cover his own culpability.

  Captain Upshaw’s testimony was almost worse. As the flag captain for the Badger, Upshaw had seen every decision Nivrosky had made during the carnage of Wayward. The red-faced officer had seemed almost uncomfortable himself with the level of hesitation he described in the High Admiral, and whatever justifications he presented for his superior’s decisions seemed weak and forced. By the time Upshaw stepped down, Jacob could tell by the expressions of the members of the Lower Seats any chance of victory Nivrosky might have had had evaporated.

  Finally, he forced himself to answer. “That would depend on who you are at the moment, Commander. I wouldn’t want to be in High Admiral Nivrosky’s shoes right now.”

  Her eyes grew sharp. “Understandable, but not everyone shares your opinion, captain.” She smiled and tilted her head to the side. “Don’t be so surprised, Jacob. There are plenty of people who would love to have the job of High Admiral, especially the types of people who have been blocked by Admiral Nivrosky’s policies. Quite a few ambitious men and women covet his authority, and they’d be glad to see the man fall.”

  The way she had said that last phrase sent a sudden chill through Jacob. He locked eyes with her. “You’re telling me they’ve set him up. That he’s not going to win no matter what.”

  She shook her head and walked to the nearest window. “Not exactly. After all, the Seatings wouldn’t have risked their own positions by corrupting their votes. I think we can count on them doing their duty.” Al-shira grimaced. “The witnesses, on the other hand…”

  Jacob saw again Kenning’s face, and anger flared to life through his shock. “Kenning tried to influence my testimony. He’d have been popular with a lot of the other officers, and he told me if Nivrosky didn’t suffer for Wayward, I would.” He ground his teeth. “They tried to use me.”

  Al-shira nodded slowly. “They’ve set the whole thing up, hoping he’ll finally take the fall.” She paused, and then spoke as if forcing the words past some obstacle. “You need to be careful out there, captain. If I know you—and I do—you’re going to do something stupid. These are people in power. They aren’t going to appreciate it if you screw up their plans.”

  There was a shadow of concern in those fierce eyes. For a moment, Jacob was on the edge of thanking her, but he turned away before he spoke. His words were rough on his tongue. “Thank you, Commander Al-shira, but I can take care of myself. I hope you haven’t put yourself in danger to tell me this. You have your career to worry about.”

  He did not have to look to know she had clenched her hands in anger, or that the concern had been replaced by a sudden anger. Yet her voice came softly, like the whisper of a sword being drawn from its sheath. “Jacob, you can do whatever you like in there. I can’t stop you—I won’t stop you—but I need you to think about something.” She paused, and the silence lasted long enough he turned to look at her.

  Her expression was serious, and her anger, though it still burned, was buried deep. When she spoke, it was with a deliberate firmness. “However angry you are at me, Jacob, you need to think about whether or not you trust me. Because if you do, then I am telling you, captain, these people will destroy you if you leave them even the slightest opening to do so. Remember that.”

  Jacob opened his mouth, and then closed it. He nodded and turned away. The door closed with a soft thud, and his shoulders slumped. How had everything gotten so out of hand?

  The lawyer for the prosecution stood and gestured to the Hall. A greying, dignified man, he wore the badge of a Representative of the House of the People. Jacob knew he had been elected from among his peers to represent the case against Admiral Nivrosky, which likely meant he was important. Given the tenor of his arguments so far, he was also probably a Federalist party chief, which Kenning would have loved. Jacob, of course, had no damn idea who he was, but that wasn’t unusual at all.

  Jacob winced as the man spoke with a voice that carried easily to the galleries and rolled over Jacob in a calm, melodious wave.

  “The prosecution calls Captain Jacob Hull, formerly of the CNS Terrier and commanding officer of Destroyer Squadron Forty Three.” The audience turned, and whispers filtered through the galleries as Jacob descended towards the place Lieutenant Commander Barnes had instructed him to take. Then the prosecutor spoke, his voice once again filling the solemn space of the court.

  “Captain Jacob Hull, you were a member of the task force deployed to Wayward, am I correct?”

  Jacob nodded.

  The prosecutor gave him a friendly smile. “If you could verbalize your responses, Captain Hull, it would make recording the proceedings much easier.”

  Jacob felt heat rise in his cheeks. “Yes, sir. I was at Wayward during the task force’s deployment.”

  The lawyer nodded again. “What part of the task force did you command?”

  “I am—was—in command of Destroyer Squadron Forty Three, sir. At that point it included the Hunter class destroyers Terrier and Beagle.” Jacob winced inwardly at the mention of those ships, and the crews that had perished with them rose in his memory. Fortunately neither the audience nor the prosecutor noticed, and the man continued.

  “The Hunter class destroyer has received some criticism, as I understand it, from various parties regarding its effectiveness and defensive strength. What has been your observation o
f the class, Captain Hull?”

  Jacob felt his spine stiffen. “I felt the increased armament more than outweighed the loss of armor, sir. We were able to account for several ships in many different engagements, and my crews were more than up to the tasks we received.”

  The other man’s eyes sharpened. “So, in your opinion, the Hunter class destroyer was not, as some have alleged, an understrength ship?”

  “No, sir.” He gave the answer firmly, and the corner of the lawyer’s mouth quirked upward slightly.

  “Well, Captain, every officer tends to be fond of his ships. I’m glad to see you are no exception.” Jacob felt his jaw tighten at the faint patronization in the words, but the lawyer gave him no chance to respond. “What part did you play in the engagement at Wayward, Captain?”

  Jacob outlined the maneuvers his ships had performed, wondering what direction the lawyer was going with his questions. He felt his throat constrict as he described the final moments of the Terrier, and he couldn’t avoid emotion leaking into his words a couple of times. He managed to give an account of the battle up to the point where he had been knocked unconscious. When he finished, the prosecutor’s face had grown grave.

  “I’m sorry for the loss of your crews, Captain Hull. It is obvious they mattered a lot to you.” Jacob, unsure if it was a question or not, nodded in response. The prosecutor continued. “And I understand Beagle was crippled after the Terrier was destroyed?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And how many crewmen and officers would you say were killed as a result of that action, Captain Hull?” The question was soft, but it carried throughout the chamber. It also cut deep into Jacob’s heart, be he forced the words out anyway.

  “From my squadron alone, we suffered well over three hundred casualties, sir. Several more of my crew will be discharged as a result of their severe wounds.” Jacob paused, struggling with his reaction to that fact, and then continued in a hoarse voice. “They fought hard and well, sir. Every one of them.”

  “I am sure they did, Captain Hull. I’m sure they did.” The prosecutor bowed his head momentarily, the picture of mourning for a quiet moment. When he spoke next, his voice was harder. “In your judgment, Captain Hull, what were the conditions for victory at Wayward?”

  Jacob hesitated for a moment, struggling against the grief that had held him bound and off balance at the sudden change of subject. “Per the briefing we received, sir, our goal was to capture or kill the enemy leader, General Al-Mustafa. It was our hope that in doing so we could end the constant raiding along the border and stabilize the frontier.”

  The lawyer nodded. “And High Admiral Alan Nivrosky assured you such an action would lead to stability, Captain Hull?”

  “I don’t understand, sir.” Jacob studied the lawyer, suddenly sensing a trap waiting for him. “What does the High Admiral have to do with this?”

  Turning to the Seatings, the lawyer spoke again. “Permission to clarify the situation?” The collected Councilmen nodded, though several seemed uncomfortable. “The operation, as I understood from your testimony, was meant to stabilize the region and prevent further Oduran aggression, Captain Hull. Unfortunately, it appears someone misjudged the situation to a fairly terrible extent.”

  With a significant look at the High Admiral, the prosecutor continued. “Our reports from the League indicate the regime of President Banks is now failing at an accelerated rate. Al-Mustafa has been raised as a martyr for the cause, and there are accusations Banks was attempting to conspire with us for control of his government since we eliminated the General.” The prosecutor turned back to Jacob. His eyes were hard. “The person or persons responsible for that plan must be held responsible, Captain Hull. Your crews sacrificed much on the word of the High Admiral, as did many others, and it failed to achieve anything.” He shook his head. “Their lives were wasted.”

  Jacob’s hands had clenched throughout the prosecutor’s words, and he found his teeth had clamped shut as well. Not only had they planned on using him, they were planning on using the men and women who served with him. The men and women who’d died under him. By the time the other man had declared his crews a wasted sacrifice, he felt the fury burning inside him begin to chill in a way that hadn’t happened since the Bloodthorne had died. Something inside him snapped, and suddenly he relaxed into his seat. He met the other man’s eyes and spoke as clearly and sharply as he could.

  “No, sir.”

  The prosecutor blinked, his mouth open to continue his indictment of the High Admiral. He looked at Jacob as if he had forgotten he’d been talking to someone who could respond; given his surprise, he likely had. When he recovered enough, his words seemed off balance. “I…beg your pardon, Captain Hull.”

  “You should, sir.” The prosecutor’s eyes widened at the harsh tone in Jacob’s voice, but he gave the man no time to respond. “My crew and the officers who commanded them did not throw away their lives. They gave everything in the service of their country and the defense of their people. It doesn’t matter where they faced the enemy, or whether or not the enemy appreciated it when they were done. Their lives meant something, and you should be ashamed of yourself for implying otherwise.”

  There was a shocked silence afterwards, and the lawyer’s face flushed red. His careful composure slipped as he stalked back towards Jacob’s seat. “Captain Hull, you will show me the respect my position deserves! I am a member of the House of the People.”

  “Then you should act like it, sir.” Jacob’s lips twisted in a half smile as the man stopped short and stared at him. A quote from the Naval Code, specifically the section regarding the responsibilities of the officer corps, rose to his mind. “‘An officer who does not appreciate the sacrifices and efforts of the men under his or any other command has no right or recourse to his rank.’ Whether or not the ultimate outcome of the operation was a success, my men did not waste their lives. And you, sir, should not have forgotten that.”

  The lawyer’s face grew more and more crimson, until a jeering, sarcastic corner of Jacob’s mind wondered if blood pressure would finish the man off. A murmur rumbled through the audience. Jacob heard a few of the reporters begin whispering into microphones as well, their scandalized words escaping his hearing. Unfortunately, he had likely embarrassed the Navy again, but at this point he hardly cared.

  As the murmurs began to calm, the prosecutor managed to rally and control himself. He turned abruptly to the Seatings, and his words came out terse and angry. “Permission to treat the witness as hostile?”

  One of the members of the Seatings coughed into his hand. “I’d say that’s called for at this point. Permission granted.” A half amused chuckle ran through the audience, and the prosecutor returned his attention to Jacob.

  “Captain Jacob, you emphasized the need for officers to respect the sacrifices of their troops. Do you believe High Admiral Nivrosky acted in accordance with those principles?”

  Jacob met his eyes without flinching. “Yes sir, I do.”

  “You say this even though your ships suffered severe losses?”

  “I do, sir.”

  The lawyer screwed up his lips in contempt. “So you believe an officer who endorses an operation is not responsible for the failure of that operation? Especially when it costs so much in terms of lives and material?”

  Jacob didn’t flinch. “The costs of the operation were acknowledged from the outset. The opportunity to change the course of the Oduran League’s policy was worth the risk.” He shook his head. “But whether or not you agree with that statement, the fact is that High Admiral Nivrosky was not responsible for the operation. The orders we received came from the High Seat, not the High Admiral. If you mean to question the person who sent us to Wayward, you should be indicting him.”

  He watched as the lawyer’s face went slack. “The High Seat may have endorsed the operation, but it was High Admiral Nivrosky who advocated the move from the outset. He bears responsibility for that counsel, the same as any ot
her officer in the Navy who advocates an operation.”

  “Yet the person who is persuaded to give the orders is the one who has to stand for them later, Captain.” Jacob felt another smile twitch his lips. “If the High Seat was ill-advised or not, that is his decision to make, but the responsibility for his choices are his and his alone. If you feel they are evidence of culpable incompetence, well, I suggest you discuss that with High Seat Smithson at your earliest convenience.”

  A rumble of murmurs spread through the chamber as the audience recognized the challenge, and the prosecutor glared at Jacob with all the hate he had to admit he probably deserved by this point. He shouldn’t have come out swinging, not from the witness stand, and he certainly wasn’t supposed to be arguing with a lawyer in court. Yet he couldn’t let a man who was willing to use the deaths of his personnel as a talking point slip by, and Jacob buckled down as the prosecutor gathered himself for the next battery of questions.

  “Whether or not the High Admiral was the one who issued the ultimate orders does not excuse his behavior as commander during the actual engagement. The fact is High Admiral Nivrosky then failed to exercise sufficient tactical control during the battle, and as a result hundreds of Celostian Naval personnel died. His culpable lack of command skills was fully demonstrated in Wayward.” The lawyer glared hard at Jacob. “Wouldn’t you agree, Captain Hull?”

  He shook his head. “No, sir.”

  The lawyer made a quick, sweeping gesture. “Oh really, Captain? Perhaps your analysis is motivated by more personal loyalty than clear thinking?” Jacob did not respond, and the prosecutor continued in an acid tone. “Was the High Admiral in command of the battle?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Did he exercise command throughout that battle?”

  “Yes sir, he did.”

  “Then if he had been given command, and the task force had been given resources that were more than adequate for the mission, why did the Navy suffer so many casualties? Can you explain that, Captain Hull?” The prosecutor’s smile had returned, with a predatory twist to his lips.