Badger (18 page)

He almost agreed with her, but it was his responsibility to know. His orders had put his people in harm’s way, and no true commander would forget what that meant. Jacob had to know. Turning to Al-shira, whose eyes still burned with resentment, he asked again. “Al-shira, how many of them didn’t make it out? Tell me.”

For a moment, her eyes filled with something besides the anger that had burned in them for so long. Then her jaw tightened, and she answered. “We lost about seventy five from
Beagle
. They’re still working on about forty more wounded.” She paused, and looked away. “From
Terrier
, only one hundred made it off. The rest were on the ship, or their escape pods were caught in the fighting.” Al-shira looked up again, and her anger drained from her expression. Jacob couldn’t analyze what replaced it; his mind was numb. “I’m sorry, Jacob.”

It was a long heartbeat before he could speak again. Shock over the loss of his crews and their ships filled him, and he wondered again how he had ever thought himself a decent commander. He shook his head. “I am too, Al-shira.” Over two hundred and seventy crewmen dead, on top of all the other losses he’d had. Nearly as many as had been lost in the fight for Reefhome, and here they had done what? Killed an Oduran officer? What kind of monument would such an achievement serve for so many people dead? Jacob looked up and found her still watching him, strangely calm. “I am too.”

The next few hours passed, in a haze. Jacob sat in his sick berth in silence, pondering over his failure to protect the crews and ships under his command. Now that each ship had been crippled or killed, the Navy was almost guaranteed to decommission the entire class.
Wolfhound
was as dead as
Terrier
, and the only hope it had of ever being repaired was if Miguel managed to convince the governor it would be a nice museum.

The thought pained him. It was more than the fact that
Wolfhound
was meant to be a warship, though that was compelling enough a reason to dislike the fate his former ship was now condemned to. He knew, in his heart, his reluctance to embrace the ship’s end stemmed from something more.

Any museum made out of the
Wolfhound
would, in a way, be a monument to him as well. The people of Reefhome had enshrined him too much for anything else to happen. They’d put up displays, maybe a statue or two, and do their best to commemorate him as a hero. He’d look like some kind of a champion when all he really felt like was a fool who’d killed his own men. Grief welled up in Jacob, and he clenched his teeth to keep control.

There were no other visitors for the rest of the day, and Jacob continued to brood over the men he had lost. How could he continue to command ships if he had been such a reckless idiot? He barely noticed how the medical staff began to avoid his room as well, though he could hardly blame them for abandoning a failure like him. By the time night arrived and he drifted into a fitful sleep, Jacob was almost grateful for the chance to slip into oblivion.

The dream was not pleasant. He was fighting with the crew of the
Terrier
, pleading with them to abandon ship, but they all saluted and smiled. Several crewmen he’d come to know had tried to reassure him things couldn’t possibly go wrong, not when Jacob Hull was in command.

Jacob begged them, ordered them, yelled at them in desperation. He ran through the corridors of the now-dead
Terrier
trying to find them and convince them to leave. The ship was eerily quiet, with fires flickering and sirens muted. They’d marched right past him, filing off to their duty stations with smiles and salutes fixed, until finally he found himself alone. For a while he’d staggered along the broken corridors, hoping to find someone, anyone who would listen, and then the lights had gone out.

No light brightened the ensuing darkness, not even the occasional fire or burst of sparks. He felt his way along, and suddenly the missile warning alarm pierced the haze of silence. It wailed in his ears, building like the war-cry of a vengeful harpy, until he knew it was too late to escape. Jacob turned and saw them standing in ranks and faces blank, and then the missile wiped them all away in a flash of light.

He woke to darkness. It was still the middle of the night cycle, and his sick berth had the lights extinguished both to conserve power and to allow him to rest. Jacob tried to steady his breathing, but his heart was racing too fast. His ribs and arm ached; jerking awake like that probably hadn’t helped the wounds heal. Cold sweat covered him, and he swiped at it with his uninjured forearm.

It hadn’t been real, any of it. He’d known, even as he clawed his way through the corridors, but it didn’t matter. Jacob shivered slightly, and he closed his eyes. That final, terrible flash went through his mind again, and his eyes shot open. His breath froze for a second in hard, unyielding panic, and then he forced the air out of his lungs and past his teeth. Sucking in air felt easier, but it still wasn’t as straightforward as it should have been.

Jacob sat for a long moment, focused on the simple task of breathing the fetid sick berth air. The tightness in his chest refused to fade, and he began to wonder if he should try to call the medics. He struggled along for a minute longer and finally the tension eased. A minute more, and his lungs no longer felt like they were wrapped in bands of iron. It was some time longer before breathing came without effort, and he slumped back on his bed in relief.

After another minute, Jacob levered himself out of the bed. His ribs creaked in protest, and his elbow screamed in complaint as he brushed the wall, but he kept going. Any amount of pain was worth leaving the dark berth. It reminded him too much of the dream; if he let himself dwell on it he could imagine those dead crewmen waiting there in the gloom. Gathering his hospital tunic around him, he started to hobble for the door.

It took two presses on the access button for the hatch to slide open. Jacob suspected the first had alerted the night staff that he was leaving, but at least the second let him out. He blinked when the dim light of the hallway spilled into the berth and resisted the urge to look back. Any idiot would know those crewmen weren’t standing there, and he doubted looking would make the lingering concern leave his tired mind.

He wobbled his way out into the hallway, bracing himself with a convenient railing built into the wall. One end of the corridor was an abrupt dead end, but the other had a substantially lighter room at the end of it. Blinking at the bright lights still shining there, Jacob started toward them. Progress was slow, but he nearly made it to the room before he heard the voices.

It was an argument, but a fairly quiet one. Not that those whispered curses and harsh tones were any less filled with anger, but the two participants seemed able to keep things under control. From the sound of things, someone was trying to barge into the medical wing in the middle of the night, and the medical officer on call had caught them in the act. Whoever it was refused to be turned aside, however, and the number of threats and curses the intruder was hurling made it clear the medical officer wasn’t going to have an easy time of dissuading them. Jacob smirked to himself as he drew closer. Perhaps he was going to have to help the poor medic out.

When he rounded the corner, he found the scene of the argument. The messy haired doctor, a man named Lieutenant Thorsby if he remembered right, was facing off with none other than Isaac, and he looked about as harassed as Jacob had thought. Isaac, on the other hand, still wore the same tight, restrained expression he had when he was still on
Terrier
. A light duty sling encased one arm, while in his other hand he held a reader, which he was brandishing at the hapless officer before him. Off to the side, looking equal parts patient and longsuffering, was Leon Nivrosky.

Jacob cleared his throat and drew their attention to him. “I apologize for the disturbance, Lieutenant, but I believe I can help you with these two.” He glanced at the bar he had been using to walk down the hallway. “I may need a place to sit.”

The medical officer quickly found a trio of chairs to set down in a nearby corner. His relief at no longer having to deal with Isaac had been plain on his face. The glances he sent in Leon’s direction made it clear why he hadn’t called the Marines to escort the former Gunnery lieutenant to the brig. When Thorsby retreated to the small office near the entrance, Jacob found himself being studied by both of his visitors. He drew a deep breath and let it out, silently grateful the air came easily. “All right, so why don’t you tell me what this was all about?”

Isaac stiffened slightly, and his mouth pinched as if he had tasted something sour. Before the other man could speak, Leon laid a hand on his arm. After a quick exchange of glances, Isaac looked away and muttered something under his breath.

Leon didn’t seem to notice, and turned his attention back to Jacob. “We felt it would be wise to bring you some information you had not been given before. I would have been happy to wait until visiting hours, but Isaac wished to see you sooner.”

At that, Isaac directed a smoldering glare in Leon’s direction. Leon looked back at him and raised an eyebrow. Isaac snorted and turned back to Jacob. “He’s right. There are some things you need to hear, Jacob.”

It was the first time Isaac had used Jacob’s name since the ill-fated interview aboard the
Terrier.
Small a gesture as it was, it really should not have triggered a sudden flood of emotion, but Jacob still felt as if he had received a full cup of water after walking the desert for weeks. He swallowed, trying to fight down his reaction, and forced a slight smile. “Well I am glad you came then, Isaac. It must have been something big.”

Isaac began to grin as if he had a sarcastic retort, but he caught himself and glanced at Leon. “First off, I wanted to let you know I don’t have any hard feelings about, you know, the hacking thing.” He shrugged awkwardly. “I know you had to come to me, and I’m sure it was better than finding the Marines kicking down my door.”

The Gunnery officer’s head came back around, and his eyes filled with determination. “You know I wasn’t just mad about that, right? Half the reason I was angry was because you came to question me, but most of it was because it was
all
you did.”

Jacob blinked. “All I did? What are you talking about?”

With an uncomfortable shift of his shoulders, Isaac glanced down at the reader in his good hand. He tapped a few buttons before he answered. “Ever since you were promoted—hell, even since we got back from Reefhome—you’ve been different, Jacob. You’ve had a lot to do and a lot on your shoulders, but it was like you were tying yourself in knots rather than letting someone else bear the load.” Isaac leaned forward and met his eyes. “You didn’t get through Reefhome alone, and you didn’t kill Dianton alone. You don’t have to go it alone here either.”

Jacob’s spine stiffened at the words. He shook his head. “I know, Isaac, but things here aren’t like they were in Reefhome. It’s different being in command in the fleet. It doesn’t work the same way.”

“It doesn’t, Jacob?” Leon’s question surprised him enough to bring his head around. The
Beagle
’s former commander was frowning at him. “Why would you have that impression?”

Jacob shifted slightly in his seat. He winced as the wounds he had taken reminded him of their existence. “Every minute since I’ve gotten back, I’ve had people watching me, waiting for me to screw up. If they saw any chance to prove that I couldn’t do this, that I needed some kind of crutch to get through my responsibilities, then they would be able to prove I didn’t deserve them. That
we
didn’t deserve them.” His hands clenched when he remembered Flint’s continual resentment and Upshaw’s constant barrage of rebukes. “It’s not the way I would have wanted it, but it’s the way it has to be.”

Both of the other officers sat back and looked at each other. Jacob watched them for a moment, until Isaac glanced back at him and spoke.

“So that’s why you’ve been trying to work through all of this on your own? Because if you can’t handle it, you’re a failure?”

Confused, Jacob nodded.

Isaac groaned and rested his head against the edge of the reader in his hand. “You damn fool!”

Leon snorted to himself and shook his head. “She was right. I should have seen how that would happen from the start.”

“What are you talking about? Who’s right?” Jacob had a strange suspicion he knew who ‘she’ was, but before he could pursue the conversation further, Isaac rapped him on the head with the reader.

“Not important. Look, when you started cutting everybody out, we started to assume you didn’t trust us.”

Jacob’s mouth fell open. “Didn’t trust you? Why in the world would I not trust you? You’re the only reason I got through Reefhome alive.”

“She was right.” Leon shook his head again. “So all this time since then, you’ve always trusted us. All of us.”

He nodded. “Of course I did.”

Isaac jumped into the conversation again. “You just didn’t think you could depend on us.”

Blinking, Jacob tilted his head. He was beginning to feel like he was on uncertain ground here. His head still felt a little cloudy. “No, that’s wrong. I knew I could count on any of you.”

“Which is why, once Lieutenant Bellworth was cleared of wrongdoing, you asked him to help you find the identity of the hacker on
Terrier
.” Leon’s matter of fact tone had Jacob nearly nodding before he realized what Leon had said.

He stopped and grunted in surprise. Leon simply continued to look at him expectantly. A glance at Isaac showed Jacob that his friend had stopped fiddling with his reader and was waiting as well.

Realization dawned, and Jacob sat back. “You’re right. I’ve been a damn fool.”

A grin flashed across Isaac’s face, and his grim attitude fell away. “Well, as long as you can admit it I guess we can call it forgotten.” He hefted his reader. “Besides, in spite of your momentary lapse in judgment, I decided to look into things for you.” His face fell slightly. “Most of my evidence went up with the
Terrier
, but a few backup copies stored on
Beagle
survived. They wouldn’t be admissible in any court, but they should be enough for us.”