Badger (23 page)

Michael blinked, as if surprised or confused, and Jacob decided to elaborate a little further.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Catherine and I don’t exactly come from mild stock. She’s going to have strong opinions, to the point where you’re going to wonder if you’ll ever be able to change her mind. She’ll argue, bicker, whine, and when you back her into a corner she’ll come out swinging. How are you planning on dealing with that?”

Michael didn’t answer right away. Instead, he bowed his head in thought. Jacob waited, confident that whatever was going through Michael’s mind, the current fight with Catherine had demonstrated his point. The last guy hadn’t understood; he’d come up with some trash about understanding Catherine’s needs and attempting to persuade her to his point of view with well-reasoned logic. It hadn’t worked well, and, just as Jacob had suspected, Catherine had given the guy the boot a short time later.

After a few more moments, Michael looked up. His face was still serious. “So pretty much you’re worried she’s going to steamroll me because she’s stubborn, determined, and has a temper like a mule, right?”

Jacob nodded, wondering where Michael was going with his response.

Then Michael gave him a smile that was one part cocksure and one part self-assured. “Well, it’s a good thing that my mother tended to describe me as mule-headed as well. I think I’ll be able to handle her just fine, thank you.”

Jacob coughed into his hand to avoid revealing a chuckle. He raised an eyebrow. “And what are you going to do to convince me you can pull that off? You’re asking me for my permission to marry her, aren’t you?”

Michael shook his head, and Jacob felt a burst of surprise. “Sorry to have given you the wrong impression, Captain Hull. I would love to have you agree with our marriage, and it would make Catherine very happy if we had a good start between us. But if you don’t agree, I’m still going to ask her. And if she says yes, we
will
get married.”

Jacob locked eyes with the other man, stilling his face to a professional calm. “And if she says no?”

Michael sat back and crossed his arms. “Then it’s her decision, not yours. Though I hope she agrees eventually.” He smiled; his eyes never left Jacob’s. “As I said, I am a stubborn man.”

They sat for a moment, staring at each other with unwavering focus. Michael didn’t seem inclined to budge, sitting back with his arms crossed and a smile twisting his lips.

Finally, Jacob grinned. “All right then. I’m still not convinced she’ll have you, but I have to admit, you may make the cut. If she says yes, I won’t stand in your way.” He stopped when Michael’s smile blossomed into a broad, toothy expression of satisfaction. There was no reason to let the man get too overconfident, after all. “One last thing you should know.”

Jacob leaned forward. “When the
Wolfhound
hit the pirates in the initial ambush, I didn’t give them any warning. I waited until they were too close to escape and too close to miss. The gun crews, on my orders, turned their ships into floating graveyards. They died from shrapnel, fire, and vacuum exposure. A few even managed to lose heat control on their ship. I imagine their last few moments, as they baked alive in their own ship, were unbearable.” Michael shifted in his seat, and Jacob grinned inwardly. “I did that to them because they had hurt my crew. They threatened the well-being of people I cared about, people I served with, and I would not hesitate to do it again.”

He let his smile go cold. “Michael, I want you to think about what I would do if someone hurts Catherine. If someone,
anyone
, betrayed her trust or abused her love. I want you to think about that every single time you have a fight, feel a temptation, or start to lose control. Every. Single. Time.” Jacob let his expression grow even colder, expressing the chill he felt each time he remembered Dianton’s threat to hurt his sister. “Think on it, and let me know if you
ever
start to forget. Are we understood, Mr. Demarcos?”

Throughout Jacob’s speech, Michael’s eyes widened and his face grew pale. Whether or not he was shaken enough to reconsider his intentions, Jacob couldn’t tell, but if the bulky man continued at least he would be well-informed about what he was getting into. Satisfied his questions had been answered and his message delivered, Jacob sat back and started to dig into the burrito with his fork. He’d lifted a bite to his mouth when he looked over and realized Michael was still watching him, his own food untouched. Jacob grinned. “Well Michael, eat up! After all, you’re going to have to catch up to Catherine and convince her not to disown me later, right?”

With a half-hearted chuckle, Michael took a shaky sip of his drink. Jacob stuck the bite of burrito in his mouth and chewed with gusto. His mood had taken a turn for the better. The next few minutes they ate in relative quiet, with Jacob enjoying the flavor of his meal, when he noticed another man in uniform had appeared in the restaurant.

Jacob frowned. Commander Kenning was the last person he would have expected to show up in a diner, especially the same one he happened to be eating in. His suspicions were confirmed a heartbeat later as the commander swept the room with his gaze and stopped when he saw Jacob. The man crossed the crowded restaurant towards their table, and Jacob felt a slight chill as Kenning smiled. Could he have heard news of a court martial, and had come to taunt him, or was his visit related to some other problem Jacob was about to face?

Kenning’s smile grew as he nodded to Jacob. “Captain Hull! What a coincidence that I should see you here.” He turned to Michael with a dismissive gesture. “Mr. Demarcos, is it? Would you mind if the captain and I could have a few moments to talk? It is a short matter, but one I would appreciate some privacy for.”

Jacob felt a rush of heat at the half-contemptuous tone Kenning used. Michael might have been an annoyance, but since when did Kenning have the right to order him about? Struggling to keep his voice calm, Jacob spoke before Michael could respond. “Michael is the one who invited me here, Commander Kenning. I trust him, and whatever you have to say to me, you can say in front of him.”

The other officer’s eyes narrowed. “Your disregard for military security aside, Captain Hull, I would think even Mr. Demarcos would be able to understand the need for two officers to be alone occasionally when they discuss certain matters. From one officer to another?”

Jacob didn’t bother to reply. He glared at Kenning, imagining the sheer pleasure he would get from gunning him down until Michael stood abruptly. He shifted his gaze from one officer to the other, muttering to himself. Then he raised his voice to more audible levels.

“Look, I’m going to let you two settle this one out. Captain Hull, I’m going to go see how Catherine is doing. I’ll be back in a short while—whether you’re finished or not.” Michael ended the sentence with a look at Kenning that left little doubt where the words had been aimed. For a moment, as Michael turned to walk away, Jacob was forced to yet again remind himself he was supposed to hate the man. Then he turned back and saw Kenning sliding into Michael’s vacant seat.

Reluctant as he was, Jacob sat as well. At the very least Kenning was working with a deadline; he couldn’t just jabber away indefinitely. That meant the commander was going to get to the point, something that would hopefully allow Jacob to send him off that much more quickly.

Unfortunately, Kenning did not seem to feel the pressure of Michael’s ultimatum. He sat back in his chair and tapped the table with a finger for a moment. When he spoke, it was in the same elaborately casual fashion that so annoyed Jacob. “Captain Hull, may I first say I was very sorry to hear about the losses your squadron sustained at Wayward. It is a terrible thing to lose a ship, as we both know.”

Restraining his initial response, Jacob nodded. He had heard Kenning’s squadron had taken losses, but it hadn’t been by diving into the thick of things. Kenning had ordered them to skirt the edges of the battle in an attempt to attack the dreadnaught as it ran, without engaging the other ships. A pair of
Crossbow
s had noticed the maneuver and bombarded the corvettes with enough missiles to destroy one of the three ships.

Kenning continued, his voice even and smooth. “The losses the fleet took at Wayward were severe, Captain Hull. There are many in the government who are looking for someone to blame, now, and I’m sure I have no need to tell you who their possible scapegoats could be.” His eyes glittered. “I understand the High Admiral has put you on extended leave?”

Jacob gritted his teeth and nodded again. It was all he could do to keep from leaving the table already. He knew he was being punished, but for Kenning to rub it in was intolerable. The commander didn’t seem to notice Jacob’s agitation and sighed deeply. “I had hoped I had heard wrong. It seems certain elements of the fleet are attempting to place the blame for the battle on you. The High Admiral must have been persuaded to act as he has by those elements, at the very least to save his own career.”

His outraged response was choked by surprise and confusion. “His career? What are you talking about?”

The other officer tilted his head to the side and smiled a little bitterly. “Haven’t you heard, Captain Hull? I suppose not; you have, after all, only been on the surface a short time, and I am sure your attention was on other things.” He shrugged. “The High Admiral has been called before the Great Chamber to account for the battle at Wayward. It appears he requested a standard court martial to give himself the chance to justify his actions, but the Council and the House have both agreed to turn it into a formal hearing. If they decide against him…” Kenning trailed off suggestively, and shrugged again.

Jacob sat back in his own chair, stunned. As High Admiral, very few people could choose to reprimand Alan Nivrosky’s actions, let alone remove him from his post. He had been appointed by the High Seat to hold his position, with all the authority and power that went along with it. Given the power of the High Seat throughout the Union, few would have ever dreamed of challenging one of his officers.

There was a catch, however. When the last Regal High Seat designed the structure of the Union, he had taken care to place each officer within it under the threat of removal if their actions went astray. Even the High Seat could be impeached and removed if the House of the People leveled a charge against him and a significant number of the Council’s Lower Seats agreed. The same possibility existed for the High Admiral as well, and it was obviously being called into play now. Unless High Seat Smithson would step in to defend the High Admiral personally, the leader of the Celostian Navy was in very real danger of losing his position—and if Nivrosky was successfully condemned, Smithson wasn’t likely to defend him.

Which meant in the next few days High Admiral Nivrosky would be fighting for his life’s work. Jacob’s eyes narrowed. “What does this have to do with me? It’s not like I can stop the fools.”

Kenning sat forward, resting his arms on the table. “That’s where you are wrong, Captain Hull. You see, the list of witnesses for the trial will be extensive, but both prosecution and defense will rely on a certain group of key players as they debate the future of the High Admiral. Since you are rather prominent along the frontier and played a large part in the battle, you are likely to be called to testify.”

The prospect of speaking in front of news cameras and Seating representatives nearly wrung a groan from Jacob, but he shook his head. “That doesn’t mean I can determine how it plays out, Commander Kenning. The Seats will make their own decision after I am called.”

“True, but
how
you testify can certainly influence their decision.” Kenning smiled. “You see, given your current status on mandatory leave, it would be very easy for the defense to hang the burden of the casualties on you. You led the rest of the flotilla in the charge, it was in the defense of your destroyers that the
Gawain
was destroyed. Your losses were heavier than most of the other squadrons as well.” Each sentence was a dagger in Jacob’s heart, and he looked down at the table. “If you aren’t ready for their questions, it can very likely result in your sacrifice to save the High Admiral.”

Jacob looked up and met Kenning’s eyes. “And how am I going to change that?”

The commander’s grin faded. “You can deliver a testimony that places the blame for the attack squarely where it belongs: with the High Admiral. If your testimony lines up directly with the rest of the officers involved, then there will be no question who was responsible for all of it.” Kenning leaned back. “Otherwise, certain reports from Captain Upshaw on your performance might happen to reach the media. At that point, the High Admiral might be forced to condemn you in return—by public pressure of course. Just think of how unfortunate that would be.”

It was everything Jacob could do to keep from leaping at Kenning. There was only one way Kenning could have gotten his hands on those files. Isaac’s suspicions had been right; Kenning had been the hacker, and now he had access to every report on Jacob’s performance since he had been made a captain. Given Upshaw’s hatred for him, even one of them might be enough for the news anchors to decide who truly was at fault for Wayward’s disaster. Combined with the likely enthusiastic testimony of Jacob’s fellow officers, it wasn’t hard to imagine being thrown out of the Navy within the week.

Stunned, Jacob looked down again at his clenched hands. The thought of losing his commission in the Navy was too terrible to consider, but the odds were lining up too heavily against him for his comfort. It wasn’t hard to see where things were leading. Yet there was no chance he was going to hang Nivrosky out to dry in his place. Such an action was wrong in a way that made Jacob feel hollow inside, no matter what Nivrosky’s opinion of him was now. It was the High Admiral who had trusted him and stood by him in fight after fight. His son had served with him for years. No matter what happened, Jacob would stand by him to the end.

Besides, a quiet voice whispered within him, the crew of the
Terrier
would have wanted him out of the Navy anyway. If they were still alive.