Eagle (Jacob Hull) (13 page)

“Understandable.” Jacob made a dismissive gesture. “At Reefhome, we were facing an overwhelming force commanded by a pirate who wasn’t planning on giving us enough time or opportunity to wear him down. Our only chance depended on catching the attack force by surprise, so we tried to control when and where the enemy would show up so we could ambush them.”

The High Seat’s expression had taken on a speculative air. “A wise decision, but rather difficult to achieve, I would assume.”

“True.” Jacob smiled. “At the time, though, we were desperate enough to make the attempt anyway. We used disinformation to provoke the strike when we were ready, and we took them by surprise. As a result, we managed to destroy the pirates and defend the station—though it was rather close.” He paused. “The same thing might work here. We’ve hit the Odurans once; if we can maneuver them into another major defeat when they attack, then they might be persuaded to make peace.”

Smithson looked at the image of the border for a moment, and then jumped in his seat, as if startled. Wild-eyed, he looked from the projection, to Jacob, and then back. “You
want
them to attack us. Your strike at Kryshaen wasn’t just meant to force a delay. You wanted to provoke a reaction.”

Jacob nodded.
“An
overreaction
, actually. I want them to commit too many forces to the assault, so the defeat breaks the back of their military. If they come at us when we are ready for them—when we have the scouts to warn us of their target, and the fleet to hit them when they do—we can inflict enough casualties they’ll panic. After that, the talks can start about how to stop this whole mess.”

The High Seat considered the plan for a moment more, and his expression shifted from one of alarm to one of cool calculation. He examined the border carefully, measuring the distance between the small patch of blue stars and the overwhelming mass of red, Oduran territory. When he spoke, his voice was calm. “Where are you going to bait them to strike?”

Taking the calm question as a sign the High Seat was not about to reflexively reject the plan, Jacob leaned forward to tap at the controls. He began to label the stars in the image and to display the various routes the Odurans would use to attack each one. “There are at least three major areas the Odurans might use to establish a foothold on our side of the Frontier. The first one—and the most dangerous to us—is Tiredel.” The star blazed a bright green, and Jacob continued in a grim tone. “The population there would be an easy target for the Odurans, they have too much raw material lying around the Odurans could use, and there aren’t nearly enough defenses in place. If the Odurans strike there, it will be a nightmare. Luckily, our strike at Kryshaen has made that a far less likely possibility.”

“If they don’t hit Tiredel, they will probably head for Erad.” It was another star some distance away along the border, in the vicinity of where Rigannin had been. “When Rigannin was destroyed, the Odurans managed to remove a lot of our local support bases in this area, and they hit Erad just as hard. It was only through the efforts of High Admiral Nivrosky the population was returned to their world at all, and, like Tiredel, they are still struggling to rebuild their home. There would be plenty of material for the Odurans to loot, a low number of defenses, and a history of successful attacks, most recently when they destroyed Rigannin and captured half of Erad’s population. It is too vulnerable for them to ignore.”

When Smithson nodded in understanding, Jacob highlighted a third star, some distance from Tiredel in the opposite direction as Erad. “The third option is New Manassas.” He paused. “The system itself is a major shipbuilding center, though the focus is on civilian craft rather than military ones. About a third of our merchantmen along the Frontier are built in New Manasses, and the Odurans could easily shift that capability to produce new warships of their own designs. The system is a little more difficult to get to, given the Odurans would have to pass through the anomaly at Manassas Fords, but the prize would be more than worth it, especially since the only defenses at New Manassas consist of militia. Losing that system would be a major blow to our trade, and they could easily launch raids all along our interior from that system.”

Smithson considered those three stars for a moment, his expression serious. “So if any of these systems fall to an Oduran assault…”

“Any one of these systems would be the hole in our defenses that would spell doom for us.” Jacob confirmed that fact without hesitation. “Once they have a foothold, they will be three times as hard to push back, and their already overwhelming numbers will only get worse when they’ve reduced our industrial output or captured a significant amount of our population. We have to keep them from taking any one of these systems—which is why we need to use one of them as bait. The Odurans would see a trap if we tried to lure them to a system of lesser value.”

“I see.” Smithson examined the situation a few moments longer, and then he turned to Jacob. “Might I ask which system you are planning on using?”

Jacob hesitated, and then spoke carefully. “I have to remind you, sir, this information is going to need to be completely secret. This will not work if the Odurans have the slightest clue about what we are trying to do.” When Smithson gestured for him to continue, Jacob tapped a control. The New Manassas system was suddenly surrounded in a bright orange glow. “New Manassas would be the largest prize to risk losing, but the unique astrography in the area would be perfect for an ambush. If we can lure them there, the anomaly at the Fords will make it so their fleet can be trapped and destroyed without ever seeing any of our infrastructure.”

Smithson’s gaze returned to the projection. “And how do you plan on setting the lure?”

“We’ll leak intelligence to the Odurans about our deployments would make New Manasses look light on defense while Tiredel and Erad are reinforced.” Jacob gestured to the projection. “They might buy it since New Manasses is farther back from our border while Tiredel and Erad are both much more exposed.” Then he paused. “We also might be able to tempt them by starting a rumor high government officials are located or visiting the area. Odurans always enjoy targeting our leaders.”

The High Seat’s jaw worked for a moment. When he spoke, his words held no enthusiasm. “Setting that aside for one moment, there are two billion people who live in New Manassas, Admiral. This plan would expose them to quite a bit of danger.”

Jacob’s temper flared, but he managed to keep it under control. “No, High Seat. The people who have neglected the defenses of the Union have exposed them to the danger. By treating the Navy as some kind of political pawn, they’ve made us vulnerable. What I am doing is going to trap the Odurans and cut their offensive capability short, so
none
of the areas I just mentioned would be at risk any longer, because we’ll be at peace.”

Smithson looked back at Jacob, his expression troubled. “I understand your frustration, Jacob, but are you sure this plan will work?”

Jacob held the High Seat’s gaze for a few more moments, and then sighed. “I am sure it is our best option, sir. If we don’t manage to do this, the Odurans could hit anywhere and begin the process of cutting the Navy to pieces. It could happen tomorrow, despite all my efforts.” He brought his head up and met the High Seat’s stare. “Our options are limited, and I don’t like most of them, but this one has the best chance of working. We have to do this, sir. We’ve been left no other choice.”

Smithson remained silent. Then he stood and nodded.
“Very well. When the time comes, you will have my support.” He glanced at the image again. “I do note, however, you will need the support of your fellow admirals in this matter. New Manassas actually lies in Admiral Mirov’s zone of responsibility, and Admiral Yeseti is in charge of all Intelligence activities. Besides, to create an ambush large enough to stop most of the Oduran military, you would need more than just your command.”

“Yes, Sir.
I know.” Jacob grimaced. “Something tells me baiting the Odurans will be easier than accomplishing that objective, but I have already started on it. And Sir…” Jacob trailed off for a moment, and then turned his attention back to the High Seat. “Thank you for standing by me so far.”

Smithson grinned. “Not a problem at all, Admiral Hull. You’ve managed to throw a wrench into so many plans at this point I am half-afraid you will end up making a mess of my own schemes. It has been absolutely delightful to see the effect on my colleagues in the other branches of the Judiciary—in fact, I suspect they’ve started to exercise more regularly just to keep Admiral Ironsides from giving them a heart attack out of pure rage.”

Jacob blinked. “Admiral who, Sir?”

Smithson’s grin widened. “Oh, you hadn’t heard, Admiral? Apparently your exploits have earned you a new moniker.” He waved at the
Eagle
in a gesture that seemed to encompass the whole ship. “Your new armor design has won the admiration of the people at least, and some reporter or other compared them to some of the old Earth naval designs. The nickname ‘ironsides’ is already well-entrenched here in New Vermont, and I will assume it will continue spreading.”

Then the High Seat leaned in, looking absurdly amused. “Of course,
you’re
the one who has helped institute those modifications, and the design bears some resemblance to your personality, shall we say? Battle-ready, stubborn, and possibly destined to save the Union?” Smithson chuckled. “It was only natural for you to gain the nickname yourself.”

Jacob forced a smile, despite the acute discomfort he felt. “Well, I suppose it may help with morale, Sir.”

“It has certainly helped mine!” Smithson chuckled again, and he headed for the hatch. “May you succeed in your efforts, Admiral Hull, and I am sure you will find all the benefits to morale you’ll need. Farewell.”

Jacob watched him go, and then turned back to the projection. Was it possible to lure them into one last stroke, a battle to end the war at last? Or was he just fooling himself into thinking there was still hope? He shook away his doubts and started back toward his desk. There was too much to be done to stand around worrying, and he was not about to let the Odurans catch him unprepared.

Chapter Twelve

The
Eagle
twisted in place, under fire from all sides by enemy cruisers. Missiles had blown apart the dreadnaught’s DE sails, and Jacob cursed when a plasma lance sliced through a bank of railgun turrets. Entering commands for the rest of his forces, he sent a squadron of destroyers swinging through space after the attackers, and made a wordless noise of satisfaction as the smaller ships hammered one enemy cruiser to pieces at close range.

“Don’t get cocky, Sir. We’re not quite done with you yet.” Leon grinned and entered commands for his forces, and the projection for their battle showed a second wave of cruisers rushing in at the
Eagle
, their railguns blazing.

“I certainly hope you aren’t.” Jacob bared his teeth in a grin. The
Eagle
unleashed a full volley of missiles into the face of the incoming ships. Explosions cascaded across them, and two of them tumbled out of formation, their internal structures broken. “I would expect better from an officer of the Celostian Navy.”

Leon grumbled under his breath. Isaac merely raised an eyebrow and pressed a button flat. “Good.”

Three cruisers riftjumped from the edge of the battle, reappearing at point blank range with the crippled flagship. All three opened fire, pouring railgun shells and missiles into the battered dreadnaught. For a moment, it seemed the
Eagle
had weathered the barrage without problems. Then plasma fountained from half a dozen gaping holes, and the ship tore itself to pieces with secondary explosions.

Jacob shook his head as Leon and Isaac’s remaining ships swept the now-leaderless fragments of his force from space. He forced himself to smile. “Well done, Captain Nivrosky, Captain Bellworth.”

Leon returned his smile with more than a hint of triumph, while Isaac merely remained impassive and cold. Both men had been more than happy to join him in the main briefing room for some simulation training, and it was clear Jacob had made a very good choice on which of his commanders could challenge him. Out of the previous four sessions, Jacob had only been able to win twice.

Isaac tapped a button to reverse the recording of the fight, and Jacob winced when his flagship took the missile barrage that wiped away its DE sail rigs.

“You’re still leaving the
Eagle
too exposed, Sir. It may be a dreadnaught and heavily armored, but not every Oduran is going to charge you head on. Especially not after Kryshaen.”

Leon
nodded, his triumph fading. “He’s right, Jacob. That sort of head to head contact was probably something we won’t be able to repeat. Any commander worth their salt will avoid it now they know what sort of ship you’ve built.”

“Just like you two did.” Jacob fell silent a moment.

For the past two battles, Leon and Isaac had consistently worked to spread out their forces, using superior maneuverability to sweep out and around the
Eagle
’s firepower and heavy forward armor. Once they’d worked around behind the lumbering ship, the DE sails had become easy targets—leaving Jacob to frantically try to defend a lamed warship. “So if we can’t count on a direct firing run, what can we count on?”

Isaac shrugged. “The Odurans will try to outflank you and avoid your guns. You need to find a way to force them into range.”

“Easier said than done.” Jacob gestured to the image. “You both saw through my attempts to lure you in, and I’m sure they will too.”

“You’re right, of course, but there has to be some way.” Leon stroked his chin pensively,
then pointed up at the hologram. “What if you create a following force, stationed just behind the
Eagle
? That way if they try to turn into the dreadnaught’s wake, they expose themselves for a firing run on
their
DE sails.”

Jacob considered it for a moment, starting to see the edges of a new idea. “And if they cut things too close, we can push them into range for the
Eagle
’s railguns. Maybe we can try to…” He glanced up when Al-shira entered the briefing room with a determined look on her face. “Captain, what can I do for y—”

“We got a message drone from Tiredel today.” Al-shira’s face was locked in a grim expression. She nodded to Leon and Isaac before handing Jacob her personal reader. “The Oathbound are reporting San Marcos militia ships are jumping in and out of the system. They aren’t harassing convoys or intercepting freighters yet, but some of them are clearly engaged in scouting activities.”

Jacob felt a burst of alarm run through him. “Any word from von Clarence or the Maxwells?”

Al-shira shook her head.
“Nothing.”

Leon frowned. “He might have chosen to send a drone straight through to Celostia, but the High Seat would probably have reported back to us by now if he’d heard anything.”

Jacob thought though his frustratingly limited options again and bit off a curse. “We’ll have to hope we’ll hear more from them soon. For the time being, we need to increase Navy presence at Tiredel. Perhaps Admiral Siddiqui…” He looked over at Al-shira. “Do we have any news from her? Has she been able to get anything back from her scouts?”

Al-shira answered without hesitation. “She has reported all of the Oduran routes are being covered. There’s no sign of a major Oduran offensive, but she has managed to intercept several raiding parties. She’s managed to either deter or destroy them.”

“I always knew I liked that admiral.” Isaac’s smile was hard. “At the very least the
Indies
know how to fight. Maybe we could have them teach lessons to the Feds?” Leon snorted and raised his eyes to the ceiling, as if imploring for help.

Jacob had allowed himself a smile at the remark; at least some good news had arrived. Then he looked at Al-shira again. Her face was still grim; there was more bad news she hadn’t delivered yet.

“What else is there?”

She gestured to the reader in his hand. “Admiral Borgens made a speech yesterday. In it, he cites a few sources of danger to the stability of the Union.”

Dread filled Jacob. He tabbed to Al-shira’s summary and started to read. It wasn’t long before had to stop, because he had the sudden urge to throw the device at the nearest wall. “You have got to be kidding me. Right
now
he feels he needs to attack me.”

Al-shira remained silent. That sign alone told Jacob the worst was yet to come, but she just gestured to the reader again.

Jacob went back to reading a few moments more, and he growled. “He’s attacking Carmichael and his goons? Now? The only thing this can possibly do is stir them up even more than they already are. With von Clarence still on the planet, this could be a disaster.”

Leon walked over and Jacob handed him the reader. As Leon read the summary, Jacob looked back to Al-shira. “What are our options if the San Marcos group takes von Clarence hostage?”

“Not good.” Al-shira shook her head. “Short of an all-out offensive, we don’t have any real chance to do anything. Besides, if we attack, or if Borgens has managed to stir the separatists into a frenzy, they might just kill von Clarence, along with all the rest of the people with him.”

Face pale, Leon handed the reader back to Al-shira. “He must not know, Jacob. Borgens is devoted to von Clarence—the man served under him during the Insurrections, and von Clarence saved his life—and I don’t think he’d knowingly put the man in danger, no matter what his goal might be.”

“You mean whatever ambitions he and Mirov have once one of them is made High Admiral.” Jacob tried not to growl the words, but he had a strong suspicion he was failing. “I wonder if they’ve realized if they don’t stop doing things like this, we won’t have a Navy left to need a High Admiral?”

Al-shira shrugged. “If we could always depend on having reasonable people opposing us, our job would be quite a bit easier, Sir.” She glanced down at the reader again, her expression now shifting to a more calculating state. “Of course, this may give us another opportunity we didn’t have before.”

Jacob gave her a curious look. “Is that so?”

She nodded.
“Absolutely. Mind if I show you something?” Jacob gestured for her to go ahead, and she continued. “You remember at this point where he is talking about a need for better coordination and direction from the leadership in the Navy?”

“It was a little hard to forget, since he leaned so hard on the vacant position of High Admiral.” Jacob grimaced. “It was a bit more subtle than his attacks on the disloyal populace of the Frontier at least but still probably meant as a barb for me.”

“Well, this barb can hook either one of you.” Al-shira grinned. “Admiral Borgens is also a member of the current Navy leadership, after all. He has to stand accused of same inaction and disorganization if someone else starts to step in and coordinate things and he resists.”

Understanding dawned. “
Which means if I make a public request for the Admiralty Board to meet, he has to come. No delays or excuses to put things off like before.”

Al-shira looked smug. “At the very least, he’d look pretty hypocritical. That wouldn’t do a whole lot of good for his political agenda, or Mirov’s. If he comes, I’m betting the others will decide to show up too. Siddiqui won’t want our policies dominated by Federalists, Mirov won’t want to look like he’s too uninvolved, and Yeseti wouldn’t risk being left out. He’s given you the perfect opening to badger them all into meeting with you again.”

Jacob smiled. “How kind of Admiral Borgens. I’ll have to thank him properly once he gets here.” He chuckled to himself. “Any suggestions on the wording?”

An annoyed look was his first answer. Then Al-shira spoke. “Just make it blunt
enough, and he’ll have to come. The idiot’s already boxed himself in.”

Isaac snorted loudly. “Blunt? I think Admiral Hull will be able to do that
very
well.”

“Thanks, Captain Bellworth.” Jacob sighed, and then he looked back at the projection of the simulation. “Thank you, Captain Al-shira. I appreciate your help. I’ll discuss this more with you later.”

Al-shira saluted. “Don’t let me keep you, Ironsides.” The nickname brought Jacob’s head up, and he saw her eyes were bright with silent laughter as she waited for his response. “After all, we all know what happens when something gets in your way.”

He snorted and raised his hand to return the salute. “Thank you, Naomi.” Jacob watched as she strode out, obviously quite pleased with herself. It could have been worse, as nicknames went, but she would never let him live it down—and by the looks of them, neither Isaac nor Leon intended to let him off easy either. Shaking his head, he turned back to simulation and wondered how long it would take before the next catastrophe landed on his desk.

Three weeks after the
Eagle
had arrived at New Vermont, Jacob waited in the corridor led to the shuttle bays. He had no company; the other members of the Admiralty Board had requested privacy when they arrived, and as their host, Jacob had been more than happy to grant their request. After all, he was about to ask quite a bit more of them than he had before, and he didn’t want to get off on the wrong foot with any of them.

At the very least, the flagship was going to be much more presentable this time. The ship had taken plenty of damage during the fight at Kryshaen; the missile barrage that had struck it would have ripped any lesser ship apart. Unfortunately for the Odurans, the majority of the damage had been absorbed by internal armor, storage compartments, and buffer rooms specifically designed for that purpose. Engineers from the shipyards had already managed to repair most of the damage, and Turley had already given Jacob an estimate that the ship would be able to leave the yard in another two days.

While Jacob waited for the other admirals to arrive, he took a moment to examine the bulkhead just outside the shuttle bay. There had been damage there—at least, one of the reports had indicated a piece of fragmented missile had penetrated the hull nearby and lodged in the wall. The engineering staff had already been busy in the area, carefully sealing the breaches in the compartments and repairing the equipment behind the bulkhead. Shuttle Bay Three was a VIP entrance, after all, and the last thing an engineer wanted was to have to explain why an admiral had been sucked out into space.

Admirals Yeseti and Mirov had been the first to arrive, coming together on the same ship. The two senior officers of the Navy were thick as thieves, and both had allowed Jacob to escort them to their temporary quarters with a stony, dignified silence. Admiral Yeseti had glanced at him repeatedly with a kind of vicious glee in her eyes; she had something unpleasant planned for him, an impression reinforced by the presence of Captain Anthony Kenning among the rest of Mirov’s staff.

In sharp contrast, Admiral Siddiqui had been considerably friendly. She’d been fresh from her efforts among the militia on the border, and her good mood might have had something to do with the fact that early warnings from the new reconnaissance program had allowed her to catch an Oduran raiding party in Adamson and decimate it, while militia captains had managed to score several victories against opportunistic pirates from Telos. Siddiqui had described those achievements with a wide smile, which Jacob felt was a good sign of things to come.