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Authors: Kindal Debenham

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L
ast of all, Admiral Borgens had finally finished dragging his feet and was about to arrive. It was obvious the man held some measure of resentment at being summoned from his comfortable post in orbit around Celostia. He realized Jacob had trapped him into attending, and Borgens’ glower during his acceptance message suggested Jacob hadn’t managed to win a friend by arranging things this way. Fortunately, Jacob had other ideas about how to secure his cooperation, but those plans didn’t help him look forward to Borgens’ unpleasant arrival, even if Jacob had the responsibility to personally welcome him.

As the shuttle swung into the bay and the compartment pressurized, Jacob ran over what he intended to say in his mind. The moment was critical; without the support
of the Admiralty Board, no amount of public pressure or common sense was going to stir the Lower Seats to do their duty. He had to persuade these officers, or the situation would only continue to worsen.

Admiral Borgens strode out of the shuttle with all the haughtiness of a corporate executive. He looked around the shuttle bay until his gaze fell on Jacob, and for a moment Jacob thought the older officer would snarl at him. Instead, Admiral Borgens crossed the deck to him, glancing at the member of Jacob’s security detail who was hovering nearby. “Good afternoon, Admiral Hull.”

“Admiral Borgens, welcome aboard the
Eagle
. Was your journey agreeable?”

Borgens snorted. “As agreeable as one might expect.” He looked around the shuttle bay. “Strange. I would have expected to see more damage given your recent adventures.”

The tone of Borgens’ voice made the comment far more scornful than it would have been otherwise, but Jacob ignored it. He couldn’t afford to let his temper rule his response this time, even if he had been up to exchanging taunts with his fellow admiral. “The engineers at New Vermont have done excellent work. The damage was not quite as bad to begin with, given our upgraded protection, but they’ve still done a damn good job, as my chief engineer would say.” Jacob gestured for Borgens to accompany him. “This way, Admiral.”

If Borgens gave any sign of disapproval at Jacob’s language, he didn’t show it. Instead, he assumed a thoughtful expression. “All that aside, I do wish you and your ship a quick recovery. I would much rather have you watching over the mess near the border than convalescing here in New Vermont.”

Jacob couldn’t keep a wry tone from his voice. “Which mess this time, Admiral? We seem to have too many of them these days.”

Borgens’ expression didn’t give any sign of humor. “San Marcos. That hotspot of rebellion needs to be watched carefully.” He eyed Jacob warily. “I was encouraged when you moved your forces out to Tiredel to keep an eye on them, but I do wish you had stayed there.”

Jacob allowed himself a grin. “I’m sure the Odurans at Kryshaen shared that opinion, Admiral Borgens, but I can’t always accommodate everyone.”

The remark did not improve Borgens’ mood. His tone grew more condescending than before. “I wonder if the refugees at Tiredel share that opinion as
well? After all, it was their kin you were slaughtering, wasn’t it? I imagine they might have some difficulty on whether or not they are supposed to cheer your triumphant return.”

With some effort, Jacob restrained his temper. It was an opening to steer the conversation the way he wanted it to go, and he had to take it, regardless of how frustrating the man’s behavior could appear. “The Oathbound seemed to be doing rather
well, though I assume they are missing the Maxwells. Nathaniel Maxwell in particular seems to have taken them under his wing.”

Jacob expected another barbed reply from the other officer, but Borgens remained quiet for a moment or two. When he spoke again, his voice was much less blatantly disrespectful. “The Maxwells were involved in their asylum, I knew that much. Otherwise I doubt the Odurans would ever have been permitted to settle among us. I did not know they had left Tiredel, however.”

Jacob hesitated. “He left with Mr. von Clarence on his mission to San Marcos. I believe Nathaniel and at least two of his brothers were aboard, along with some of the rest of the von Clarence family.”

Borgens hissed as if he had been struck. “Surely you’re joking.” When Jacob did not respond, Borgens grew flushed. “The Carmichael separatists are some of the most dangerous threats to the Union, and von Clarence led a prime group of hostages right into their midst? What could he have been thinking?” Then his attention refocused on Jacob. “And you were aware of this? How could you have let this happen? Do you know what you might have started if anything goes wrong while they are there? Perhaps if you were not so focused on your little assault on the League, we could have stopped this disaster.”

Jacob felt a flare of anger run through him, and despite his best diplomatic efforts, his words grew hard. “My decision was made for my own reasons, Admiral Borgens, and von Clarence did not inform me of his intentions before my task force left. It is asking a little much for me to have to be psychic in order to perform my duties correctly.”

“A little foresight and wisdom is not something unusual in a military leader, Admiral Hull.” Borgens’ voice dropped into a threatening tone, and his face was tight with anger. “If you knew they were in the area at all, you should have been concerned. Those separatists could have killed them by now, and it would have been
your
responsibility. You should have held off on your attack until Carmichael and his ilk were dealt with.”

Struggling to regain control of his own temper, Jacob shook his head. “Even if I had, von Clarence pointed out to me how unhelpful the presence of my task force would have been. He wanted me to leave the system so he could continue his efforts at a peaceful resolution, and as much as I dislike some of his advice, he was correct. He discussed the matter at length with me, though he failed to mention he was planning on diving right into their laps.”

“Von Clarence requested that you leave?” Borgens’ voice was colored by surprise, and his eyebrows rose. He hesitated, taken aback by the fact, and it took him a moment to recover his composure. “I was unaware you had spoken with him.”

Jacob shrugged, feeling some of his anger fade into dull resentment. “We met when I was in the middle of planning the campaign, but he was quite specific about the help he wanted. We both felt that by misleading the San Marcos separatists as to the purpose of my task force, we could influence the opinion of their people to abandon those
doomsday predictions. I also saw the chance to hide my attack plans as well, which was a side benefit.”

“So the former High Seat knew of your plan to attack?” Borgens seemed even more shocked by this revelation, and he stared at Jacob incredulously. “He did not object?”

Frowning, Jacob again wondered where the question was leading them. The surprised look on the other admiral’s face was too much of a contrast from his previous bellicose approach. Was he trying to get Jacob to say something that could be used later in a debate? “He guessed the basic outline of my intentions, though I had to hold back operational details to maintain security. I don’t recall any specific objections he expressed, though he wasn’t exactly a fan of our task force resupplying at Tiredel.”

“You did mention that, yes.” Borgens nodded, and then a shrewd expression came across his face. “It is simply a surprise to hear you were in a private conference together at all. I had heard you and Roderick were not entirely friends, to be precise. In fact, many have insisted you would rather fist fight each other than discuss anything at length.”

Jacob grunted, his anger shifting targets. The very memory of von Clarence’s superior attitude rankled, even while he worried about the man’s survival. He made a dismissive gesture. “A personal disagreement is one thing, Admiral, but the duty I owe to defend the Union is another thing entirely. High Elder von Clarence and I might not like each other—or even really stand each other’s presence very well—but we both know that sort of thing is less important than the safety of our people.” He shrugged and smiled in spite of himself. “If I see him again, I’ll probably try to beat ten kinds of hell out of him for going to San Marcos without an escort, but I know he tried to do it because he felt it was right. We each serve the Union in our own ways, the best we can. I can’t ask any more of him than that.”

Admiral Borgens fell silent. Jacob glanced at his fellow officer, expecting to find some sort of outrage marking his features. Instead, Borgens was watching him with another faint expression of surprise, as if the other man had stumbled onto something entirely unexpected. Jacob frowned. “Admiral Borgens?”

Borgens shook himself, as if freeing himself from his thoughts. “My apologies, Admiral Hull. I was just thinking of something else I’d heard.” Then he looked around at the corridor they were walking in. “Might I ask how far we are from my temporary quarters?”

Jacob glanced around as well and came to a stop. He had the unpleasant
realization  he had no idea where they were. “Damn it.” Grimacing, he pulled out his reader and tapped at a few buttons. “One of these days I’ll finally figure out where… Here we are. We should find your quarters up here on the right. If you’ll follow me.”

Borgens’ expression had a hint of amusement as he followed Jacob down the hall, but he remained blissfully silent until they reached the compartment. It wasn’t until Jacob bade the other officer farewell and headed back to his office that he realized, for the first time, Borgens had actually apologized to him for something, that he was an equal. The
thought brought him to a complete stop, and he looked back at where the other admiral had disappeared into his rooms. Then, shaking his head and wondering what sort of sign that was, Jacob made his way to his own quarters. There would be time enough to figure out everything later.

Chapter Thirteen

The conference room held several more people than it did during the previous meeting of the Board. Jacob had invited each of the members of the Admiralty Board to bring whatever staff they desired. Those extra officers amounted to ten captains, four commanders, and a single, intimidated lieutenant who filled in the chairs that had been empty before. He had made the invitation in order to include a few officers from his own command; Isaac, Leon, and Al-shira were all present, though they sat apart from the other staff around the table. Jacob didn’t have a chair; he didn’t expect to be sitting very much this time, and he wasn’t about to give any of the other admirals the chance to seize the floor.

It was not a friendly audience. Admiral Siddiqui had brought Odell and Deleon again. The former watched him with professional neutrality, while the latter glared at him with stubborn, unyielding resentment. Borgens had a crowd of officers, many from the more aristocratic portions of the Union who seemed more than ready to look down their noses at the rest of the room. Yeseti had, for some reason, invited Captain Meriweather, who looked distinctly uncomfortable. Captain Sturm, her flag captain, had also attended the meeting.

Mirov’s staff was the hardest to face. He had only brought three officers; a Lieutenant Thorne to take the minutes, a Commander Sandidge, who apparently acted as Mirov’s staff officer, and the officer Jacob wanted to see least in the entire world, Captain Anthony Kenning. From the first moment Kenning stepped through the door, Isaac’s attention was locked onto him. Leon was careful to sit by Isaac, so he could restrain him if needed, but Jacob wasn’t entirely convinced one man would be enough.

Captain Kenning apparently felt little concern for Isaac’s hostility. The man shared the same aristocratic bearing as his brother, but there the resemblance ended. Where David Kenning had been athletic and charismatic, Anthony was bulky and blunt. Physically he had some of the hard qualities of a butcher, with meaty forearms and a face that could very easily settle into a glower. At the moment, he was looking around with casual curiosity at his fellow officers, but whenever his eyes rested on Jacob, they flashed with hatred. Whatever else might be different about David Kenning’s brother, they shared the same grudge against one Jacob Hull.

In spite of those unfriendly stares, Jacob knew he had to focus on his objective. The defense of the Union was his duty, and if making that defense possible meant he had to deal with Kenning and the rest, so be it. Clearing his throat, Jacob waited until the noise of the other conversations in the room died down. He folded his arms behind his back, looked around to make sure he held everyone’s attention, and then he began.

“I’ve called this assembly of the Admiralty Board so we could discuss some of the challenges we face.” Jacob motioned to Al-shira, who activated the room’s projection unit. A map of the Union
appeared, which rotated slowly in the middle of the conference table, high enough off the surface so Jacob could still see Admiral Yeseti sitting on the other side. “Since it is our responsibility to protect the Union, I know how important it is to talk with each other about our plans.”

Admiral Yeseti snarled at him from her seat. “It is too bad you did not feel a similar concern before you launched your independent operation, Admiral Hull. Perhaps then we would not be in this situation.”

Jacob started to respond, but Admiral Siddiqui beat him to it. “It is my understanding the attack on the yards at Kryshaen has vastly improved our situation, not worsened it. Surely you wouldn’t prefer the League to have six more operational dreadnaughts?”

Yeseti hesitated, as if surprised to see another officer coming to Jacob’s defense, but then she turned her glare on Siddiqui. “If it would mean the League would not be so eager to attack us again, then yes, better that they have those ships. Even if provoking them this way
has
managed to delay their offensive—which I maintain it did not—Admiral Hull has also managed to stir up the rabble in San Marcos with the very same operation! Thanks to him we are not only facing enemies from without, but also a near rebellion on our borders.”

Admiral Borgens spoke next, his voice dismissive. “The separatists in San Marcos were going to need our attention eventually no matter what we did. Their choices are not our concern; we should focus on what we can do to counter them, and to preserve the Union, rather than exchanging insults.”

Jacob nodded in agreement, grateful for the opening to introduce the main subject of the conference. “That is exactly right, Admiral Borgens. You all know I advocate a much more active strategy for our Navy, and I would point to the operation against Kryshaen as evidence of what we can accomplish by shifting our stance.” He ignored a derisive snort from Yeseti and continued. “Unfortunately, action is not the only thing our people expect from us.”

Admiral Mirov broke his sphinx-like silence, his face impassive. “Might I ask what else they require of the Navy, Admiral Hull?”

Remembering the last reaction he’d received, Jacob braced himself. “What they need is leadership and stability. Our current situation provides neither.”

Siddiqui raised an eyebrow. “Some might take that remark as an insult to those of this Board who have tried to provide such leadership, Admiral.”

Jacob spread his hands in a wide gesture. “I am not saying anything surprising to any of you. As Admiral Borgens pointed out in his recent remarks, we are a Navy, not a legislative body or a shareholder organization. Our decisions need to be clear-cut and definitive; there needs to be a chain of command. Without that clarity, the effectiveness of the Navy will suffer.”

Admiral Borgens grew red at the paraphrasing of his speech, but he rallied well. “While I stand by those remarks, I fail to see what can be done about the situation as we currently stand. The Council of Lower Seats has held up any move toward the confirmation of a new High Admiral, and I do not see the situation changing any time soon.”

Yeseti cut in before Jacob could answer Borgens, and her voice could have been made of ice. “Aside from that, Admiral, we are not responsible for moving the situation along for your personal ambition. The Board is not a legislative body, as you said, nor are we a part of the Judiciary. I feel it is highly inappropriate to suggest we act otherwise. The Board is more than capable of providing the necessary leadership for the Navy.”

“Is it?” The other officers stiffened at Jacob's level tone, but he continued before anyone could answer. “In the time since High Admiral Nivrosky’s death, the Navy has been partitioned out into five different sections. Those divisions have, for better or worse, been defined by conflicting and competing ideals. That sort of disorder creates a much worse problem than simple command confusion; it threatens the stability of the Navy itself. How much better are we than the separatists in San Marcos if we can’t manage to define a single, unified plan of action to carry out a defense of the Union?”

Admiral Borgens sat back in his seat, expression thoughtful.

Admiral Yeseti’s face was carved from stone, and she leaned forward. “Are you questioning our competence, Admiral Hull?”

Jacob shook his head. “No, Admiral. What I am concerned about is the message we are sending to the rest of the Union. By remaining as we are, we have told the rest of the Union it is possible to bicker, to be divided and separated, and still remain strong. None of us truly believes that is the case, do we?”

Siddiqui met his gaze evenly. “There is no shame in independence, Admiral Hull.”

He didn’t flinch at her words. “I would agree, Admiral, but an officer can be most independent when he or she knows their responsibilities. Independence does not have to cause division; freedom does not have to create obstacles to progress.” Jacob gestured to the image of the Union. “The reason Maxwell formed the Articles was to bring order to our people, to give them a structure to support their freedom and help their choices to have meaning. Our Navy needs the same thing now. As the leaders of the Navy, we will need to provide that structure.”

Admiral Mirov set his elbows on the table and laced his fingers together. “The fact remains that the Admiralty Board does not choose our next High Admiral. The High Seat does, and the people confirm the choice by referendum. The Council of Lower Seats has exercised its right to postpone the referendum. Until they change their minds, we cannot interfere.”

Jacob met Mirov’s stare evenly. “Not precisely, Admiral. We do have one option, something Maxwell included in the Articles of the Union precisely for this type of situation.” He looked around the table. “The Articles state that in a time of national crisis, or when faced by a judicial decision  endangers the Union, the Admiralty Board or the acting High Admiral of the Navy has the right to petition for an expedited decision for the sake of national security.”

Admiral Yeseti drew in a hiss of breath. “And you think the fact that they’ve decided to delay your ascension to the post of High Admiral is a matter of national security? There is a difference between your career and the safety of the Union, Admiral Hull.”

Refusing to allow his anger to leak into his words, Jacob met Yeseti’s gaze. “Not anymore, Admiral Yeseti.” He looked around the table again. “I won’t hide behind sophistry or try to be coy about things. Given my success at Kryshaen, if the referendum occurs now, I’ll be made High Admiral. I know many of you harbor reservations about my ability to perform that duty; I’m sure I actually share many of those concerns myself. After all, I’m only human.” Jacob paused, then looked around the table again. “The problem is that we no longer have the luxury of waiting for a better option to step forward. We’re facing an impending invasion we’ve managed to delay, but can’t avoid. There is an entire
planet
of separatists who would love nothing more than to take advantage of a sign of weakness. We need a leader—the
Navy
needs a leader—now, not in three years’ time when the Seats make a fine judicial decision based on their infinite wisdom.”

Admiral Borgens’ eyebrows went up at Jacob’s bitter tone, and the man gave Jacob a half-smile. “Your assessment of the Lower Seats aside, some might say a bad leader is worse than no leader at all. If we should make that petition, who is to say you would not leave the Union in a worse position than that which we see before us already?”

Yeseti chimed in, obviously unable to contain her enthusiasm for tearing into the idea. “Especially since your actions have been considered unwise and overly aggressive to begin with.” She glanced at Siddiqui, as if anticipating another protest. “I’ve heard of a few ill-considered plans to deploy militia scouts throughout the Frontier. Perhaps
some
officers would be persuaded by such obvious bribes, but wiser and cooler heads must prevail.”

Siddiqui’s jaw tightened. “I will say again, Admiral Hull’s attack on the Oduran facilities at Kryshaen have had a demonstratively beneficial effect on our security. Without it, we’d be facing half a dozen dreadnaughts within six weeks, with no real way of stopping their assault.” She glanced at Jacob, and then nodded. “Further, the deployment of those scouts was begun under
my
authority, which Admiral Hull has not hesitated to respect or support. He has done so when he had every reason to challenge me. I believe he will continue to do so once he is made High Admiral.”

The words brought shocked stillness to the room. Even Deleon and Odell stared at Siddiqui in surprise, and she turned an amused smile on them. “You all know my concerns about strengthening the authority and power of the Navy, especially as it relates to the independence of the members of the Union itself. It is time to set those concerns aside, as Admiral Hull has requested, so we can preserve our independence from two enemies which are just as dangerous—division and invasion. I will support this petition, and encourage the rest of you to do the same.”

Yeseti expression twisted with hate, and she turned her glare back to Jacob. “So you’re finally managed to co-opt one of us, Admiral Hull. Your efforts are commendable, but misguided.” She looked at Admiral Borgens, her expression expectant. “We can luckily count on wiser officers to stay the course.”

Admiral Borgens, for his part, was uncomfortable rather than flattered. “I share Admiral Yeseti’s concerns about the direction of this conference; however, as I stated in my previous remarks to the press, we do find ourselves in need of stable leadership.”

The expression on Yeseti’s face was more than priceless. “Admiral, you cannot seriously be suggesting we entrust the future of the Navy to
this
man. You yourself have pointed out the many flaws in his strategy. Surely there must be some other way.”

“An officer cannot always wait for a perfect situation.” Admiral Borgens shot Jacob a calculating look. “While Admiral Hull is rather inexperienced and has erred in some choices, the same could be said for each of us—and while I have disagreed with the Admiral on some issues, disagreement is not the same as disapproval.” He paused for a moment, his expression uncertain, and then he rapped his knuckles sharply on the table. “I believe Admiral Hull is a better choice for the Navy than I had previously thought—and in any case, he is a better option than continuing our current, divided state of affairs. You have my support, Admiral Hull.”

“I cannot believe this!” Admiral Yeseti came halfway out of her chair, and the rage stamped on her features was a thing to behold. “You’re allowing control of the Navy to be given to a frontier spacer with less time in service than some lieutenants! It is a complete betrayal of everything we stand for.”

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