Badger (44 page)

So he waited for the inevitable message to come and for the end to draw near. When the door slid open to admit Commander Naomi Al-shira, he looked up hesitantly, wondering if she had come to bear his discharge orders personally. She saluted, a gesture he returned listlessly. “Yes, Commander? What is it?”

Al-shira’s expression was concerned. “You haven’t been answering your communications nub, Jacob. I came to check up on you.”

Jacob cracked a smile. “Thank you, Naomi. I’m fine. Or at least, as fine as I can be.” He waved her to a chair. “Tell me how the rest of the fleet is looking. Have they managed to save the
Star
?”

She shook her head as she fell into a seat next to him. “No. The DE sails stopped functioning, and they don’t know why. I’ve heard they’re planning on scrapping her, along with the others.”

Jacob winced. That made three dreadnaughts destined for the scrapyards, and from the look of the
Seat
, the number would soon rise to four. Along with the cruisers, destroyers, frigates, and corvettes the Navy had lost, it added up to a stunning number of casualties. There were already some outlets calling it the worst bloodbath on both sides in the Union’s history, and there were certainly enough dead on both sides to justify the name.

He lowered his gaze to the table. “Have they set a date for the funerals yet?” The vacuum of space made decay far less of a factor for burial, but no member of the Navy would leave his comrade’s remains to drift. Not out in the dark, alone.

“No, sir.” Al-shira’s eyes were haunted for a moment. “They’re still doing recovery work right now, but the casualty estimates are in the thousands. It could take days, weeks…” Her voice trailed off, and she leaned forward. “Jacob, you did your best. You know that, right?”

A weary sigh forced its way out of his lips, and Jacob hung his head for a moment. When he met her eyes again, Jacob nodded. “Maybe, Al-shira. But it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.”

Her eyes flashed. Once he would have only seen anger in them, but now he could see the worry as well “You can’t save everyone,
captain
. You know that.”

“Yes, Naomi. I do.” His words cut her lecture short, and he shook his head. “I’m not perfect, I know that. I can’t control everything.” He clenched his hands and grimaced. “But it still hurts. It always will. So many…” Jacob heard his voice tremble, and he looked away. “I will be back to business later, Al-shira. For now, while we rest, I can mourn. And I will.” Jacob flashed a half smile at her. “As long as that’s allowed,
commander
?”

The question brought a small smile to her lips, and she laid a hand on his shoulder. She squeezed. “I guess I can allow it.” Then her hand fell away, and she looked troubled. “We’ve lost a lot of people, Jacob. Do you think the fleet can recover in time to keep the Odurans from taking over?”

Jacob looked away, seeing the Celostian ships explode again, reliving their deaths. “We will have to, Naomi. We have no other choice.” He returned his gaze to her. “The Odurans took their own casualties in this fight, so they won’t be coming back any time soon. As long as we hold the line against them, the Union will heal. It has to.”

Before Al-shira could respond, an ensign threw open the door and rushed into the room. He stopped short when he saw Commander Al-shira, and then saluted Jacob. “Ensign Timothy Cartwell reporting, sir.” He turned to Al-shira and saluted again. “Ma’am.”

Jacob rose and saluted back. The young officer had obviously received a message and was bursting to deliver it. His time had come. “Yes, Enisgn Cartwell?”

“A message from Tiredel, sir. Actually, from First Shore.”

Jacob blinked. First Shore was the local capital and the city closest to the base that stored most of the Navy personnel on the surface. Orders should have come from the base, however, not through the civilians at First Shore. Unless, of course, there were criminal charges attached. Jacob felt lead sink into his gut. The squadron hadn’t done that poorly, had they?

He struggled to keep his expression calm. “What are the orders, Ensign? Are they deploying us to a new post?”

Ensign Cartwell shook his head so violently Jacob wondered if the younger officer was trying to rid himself of fleas. “No, sir. They wanted to advise us a shuttle was bringing up new personnel in addition to the VIP, sir.”

There was a moment of silence. Jacob glanced at Al-shira and saw she was as confused as he was. He looked back at Cartwell and pondered over how to respond. “The VIP, Ensign Cartwell?”

“Yes sir.” The enisgn’s expression had suddenly started to cloud with worry. Jacob could imagine the doubt starting to gather in the young man’s mind. “They sounded like you would already know what they were talking about, sir.”

“I’m afraid I never heard about any visitors, Ensign Cartwell.” Jacob picked up his reader and tapped through a few messages. He found nothing from Tiredel that would have indicated anything like what the ensign was telling him. “You’re sure the message was intended for us?”

The ensign nodded. “Yes, sir, it had our message header and everything. They were actually very specific about which ship they were coming to as well.” Cartwell brought up his own reader and tapped a few commands. “They said they would be arriving in a few minutes, carrying an extra four Marines plus the previously arranged VIP. Nothing else.” He looked up, and then hesitated. “The command and control network has been glitching lately. Perhaps the earlier message got lost?”

Jacob exchanged another look with Al-shira. “Maybe, Ensign Cartwell. If so, I would appreciate it if you would track that situation down for me. I’m going to go greet our mystery visitor in the shuttle bay.” He stood up, and glanced at Al-shira. “Care to come with, Commander?”

She stood as well. “Yes, sir. Better to be walking than sitting right now.” Al-shira raised an eyebrow at the ensign. “Dimissed, Ensign Cartwell.”

He nodded and scurried out the door. Jacob followed, taking a right hand turn as Al-shira fell into step beside him. They walked in comfortable silence for a moment before she spoke again. “You think they’re going to court martial you.”

He nodded. “Yes, Commander. I do.”

Al-shira glanced at him, but remained silent.

Jacob sighed. “They can hardly do anything else, Al-shira. I took a half-built squadron of destroyers on a death ride into the teeth of an enemy dreadnaught, costing me a quarter of my crews and one of my ships. After I practically embarrassed both political parties and the Navy into letting me build them in the first place. And I did it in a battle where the High Admiral and half the rest of the Navy’s command structure died.” They reached the lift, and he shook his head. “It’s not going to look good, Commander.”

She joined him in the lift, her eyes beginning to take on the familiar threatening tilt. “So what? You saved the fleet from complete destruction and managed to survive it in spite of yourself.” He opened his mouth to deny it as the lift began to move, but she cut him off with a sharp gesture. “No, don’t tell me,
captain
. It wasn’t enough to save everyone, but that doesn’t matter. You did your duty, the best you knew how, and that
does.
So don’t give me any crap about keeling over and letting them bad-mouth you this time. If they court martial you, you’ll fight it as hard as you fought for the High Admiral, or I’ll beat ten kinds of hell out of you. Do you understand me,
captain
?”

Jacob eyed her for a moment and smiled in spite of himself. “Yes, ma’am. Message received.”

She glared at him for a bit, and he spread his hands.

“Look, I wasn’t going to roll over. Honest.”

Al-shira raised an eyebrow.

He shrugged uncomfortably. “If I did, then all the sacrifices of the people who served under me would be dismissed. They deserve better. They all do.”

An echo of grief for
Feist
and Laurie, followed closely by the guilt for
Terrier
and
Badger
, kept him from saying anything else for a while. He looked away until he felt the lump in his throat disappear. “All I’m saying is in spite of what I could do, I may end up out of the service this time. I might as well be prepared.”

Al-shira was silent for a moment, and she didn’t speak until the lift had come to a stop. When the doors began to open, she pressed the override key to stop them. She turned to face him, eyes serious. “If that happens, Jacob, you know you won’t be alone, right? Your sister will be on Reefhome Station, and if you had to stay there and work to build new ships, like
Wolfhound
and the others, you would still be able to serve.” She paused, and then flushed red. “You might even have time for a relationship with something more than your rank badge too, you know. If you met anyone you liked, of course.”

Jacob felt heat on his own cheeks, but he met her gaze. “That is true.” Then a sarcastic smile worthy of Isaac on his best day worked its way across his face. “But let’s hope that the Navy spares me such a grim fate, right commander?”

She let the button go and smacked him upside the head. Her expression wasn’t angry, just annoyed. “Keep walking,
captain
. We have a meeting to attend.”

They left the lift and walked into the shuttle bay. The
Wolfhound
’s skiff was gone, helping with the various recovery missions to gather the dead from the wreckage. In its absence, the bay seemed cavernously empty and quiet. Then the light outside the bay door lit up, indicating the bay had begun to depressurize in preparation for the arrival of the shuttle. Jacob and Al-shira paused inside the observation station and waited as the bay doors opened to admit the skiff. There was another comfortable silence, and then Jacob glanced at her.

“You would really come along if they get rid of me?”

Al-shira nodded without any hesitation. “Yes, sir. How else are you going to survive if you don’t have me to watch out for you?” She snorted and nodded back at the shuttle. Jacob turned and saw the bay doors close. The air started to pump back into the bay. A moment later the light extinguished, indicating the bay was safe to enter.

Al-shira started forward. “Let’s go see what they want with you,
captain
.”

Jacob allowed her to precede him through the door, more out of respect for the fact that it was her ship than anything else. Then he waited by her side as the skiff settled in and opened the hatch to let out the passengers.

The first people out of the hatch were Marines. Four of them took up positions with various weapons, while another two stepped to either side of the hatch, railgun rifles held at the ready. Their battle armor glinted in the light of the bay, but what drew Jacob’s attention was the blue stripe that ran diagonally along their breastplates. It was the mark of the High Seat’s Guard, but they were only deployed to protect high level civilian officials. What were they doing here?

The answer came a moment later when High Seat Smithson stepped out of the skiff. Jacob had a moment to exchange a glance, wide eyed, with Commander Al-shira before he snapped his attention back to the High Seat. He stepped forward and saluted, and Smithson raised an eyebrow at him. A moment later he realized he hadn’t even bothered to arrange an honor guard. “High Seat, I am sorry for the lack of honors here, but we didn’t—”

“No, no, don’t you worry at all, Captain Hull. Your crew is probably busy about their tasks already, and I have no intention to keep them from what needs to be done.” The High Seat waved a hand as if shooing away a fly. “To be honest, all the fanfare gets unbearably old after a while, and I wouldn’t have come here if I wanted to make a scene.” He grinned; it seemed forced. “Besides, I felt it would be more than fair to surprise you this time, Captain. You’ve had more than your share of chances to take me unawares, after all.”

Jacob’s worries returned and twisted his stomach. For all his talk of preparing for the worst, he had not truly started to accept the inevitable. To have it happen now, in front of Al-shira, was the worst of all worlds. “A surprise, sir? May I ask what you mean?”

Smithson eyed Al-shira before responding. “Ah, yes. Commander Naomi Al-shira. I believe I knew your father once, before the previous High Seat dumped this job on me. You’ll be fine as a witness, I suppose.” He turned back to Jacob. “I apologize for my rudeness, but I have been quite distracted. I suppose the first thing I have to ask is if you are ready to give up your command of Squadron 43, Captain Hull.”

“Give up my command?” Jacob’s stomach sank. He schooled his expression, determined not to show disappointment. “If that is what the Navy requires, sir. I serve at the pleasure of the Union.”

“I’m afraid you do, Captain Hull. And there are quite a few who are very, very displeased with you.” Smithson regarded him with a grim expression.

Jacob forced his features to remain calm, and his stance not to slouch. He tried to brace himself for the loss of everything he had worked for, everything he had been for the past two and a half years.

Then Smithson shrugged. “Well, they will have to get over it. If not, I’ve weathered their whining before.”

The words took a moment to register. Jacob blinked. “Sir?”

Smithson waved for one of his guards to come forward. The Marine handed over a small box, which the High Seat opened with a snap. “Captain Jacob Hull, commanding officer of Destroyer Squadron 43, I hereby award you the Celostian Commendation for Heroism. This award reflects the consistent sacrifices and efforts you have made on behalf of the free peoples of this Union, most recently exemplified by your actions and the actions of your squadron in the Battle of Tiredel.”

The High Seat drew out a golden medallion, one worked into the shape of a sword and stars. He pinned it to the breast of Jacob’s uniform, just below the eagle and star that represented his rank, and then stepped back to admire his handiwork. “There, that’s the first thing. How do you feel?”

Words evaded Jacob for a moment. He turned to stare at Al-shira, and then looked back at Smithson in a state of pure dumbfounded emotional whiplash. “Very good, High Seat. I feel very good.”