Eagle (Jacob Hull) (2 page)

Another smile wormed its way onto Burns’ face. “I’m afraid I don’t know, Sir. Captain Nivrosky did say that while his absence was necessary, he continued to have full confidence in your plans. He said he hoped you continued to trust his judgment, sir.”

Ashford coughed, trying to hide a laugh, and Al-shira grinned openly. As the former High Admiral’s son, Leon had plenty of experience with the tact necessary to give a polite answer to a hard question—a skill Jacob sorely lacked. Jacob forced himself to smile. “Then I guess I should get on with this then. Lead the way, Lieutenant.”

The lieutenant nodded, and they began their journey through the still-cluttered corridors of the
Eagle
. The ship was not yet at full readiness—the engineers had not been able to scrub the bulkheads into pristine condition, and evidence of the hard labor it had taken to restore the dreadnaught was everywhere. Tools, spare parts, and even junked wiring and circuitry lay in piles along the sides of the corridor as they walked. Overall, the new flagship lacked much of the spit and polish the
Badger
had once boasted, and likely would never achieve that level of refinement before she saw battle.

Jacob grimaced as he considered the impact the mess would have on the rest of the officers on the Admiralty Board. While technically he outranked most of them—some due to the fact they were hurried appointments after the resignations and losses from the Battle of Tiredel, others due to the fact a potential High Admiral stood half a step higher than the rest of his fellows, at least until his appointment was confirmed—any broad strategy by the Navy had to be approved by the Admiralty Board if no High Admiral had been confirmed. It was a law designed to thwart coup attempts by charismatic admirals with political ambitions, a cautionary streak motivated by the events leading up to the Telosian Sedition, but it was one that severely hampered Jacob’s work now. If he wanted to commit the Navy’s entire force to his plans, he needed to gain the favor of a group of officers who were one step from hating him. A half-built flagship was not going to give the kind of impression that would convince them to support Jacob’s plans for the war against the Oduran League.

As they passed yet another unfinished corridor, Jacob half-turned to glance at Al-shira. “Whose idea was it to have the meeting onboard the
Eagle
again?”

She grimaced. “Admiral Borgens, I believe.”

Jacob grunted. Admiral Borgens was at the forefront of Jacob’s most vocal critics, though to be fair the other three admirals of the Board weren’t much farther behind. “Remind me to thank him for this later.”

Al-shira gave him a narrow-eyed look. “You need him on your side, Admiral. This is politics, but it’s also a fight you need to win. Don’t forget that.”

“Yes, Captain Al-shira.” The ironic tone in Jacob’s voice earned him another sharp glance, but he shrugged. His smile faded when he heard one of the Marine escorts trip over something and mutter something sour about the mess. “Then again, a friendlier battleground wouldn’t be so bad.” He heard Ashford snort in amusement and tried not to glare at the man.

When they reached the conference room where the rest of the admirals waited, Lieutenant Burns saluted and retreated as soon as Jacob dismissed her. Jacob’s bodyguard took up positions around the rest of the corridor, their movements quiet and competent. Ashford grumbled something vaguely like approval and settled into his own place where he could watch both the main corridor and the hatch for the conference room.

Jacob started to head for the door, and then paused. He glanced at Al-shira, and saw her smiling at him. “You’ll do just fine, Admiral. Just remember, we’re all behind you.”

“
Way
behind you, Sir.”

Jacob
gave Ashford a sardonic look, and then turned back to Al-shira. “Thank you, Captain.” He smiled. “See you on the other side.”

Then Al-shira left to attend to her own duties elsewhere on the flagship. Jacob watched her go for a moment and then turned back to the task at hand. The other admirals already had enough reasons to dislike him. The last thing they needed would be to hear rumors about how closely he had come to work with one Naomi Al-shira, and how he had come to feel about her despite regulations against those kinds of relationships.

Especially since those rumors were true.

Chapter Two

The conference room was large. Compared to the briefing room on
Wolfhound
or even the old conference room on
Badger
, it was a cavernous compartment with an enormous table and ample projection capability. There was enough space for nearly forty officers to be seated around the table, and recording devices could project the contents of meeting to captains whose ships were within transmission range. Such space was a luxury afforded by the fact a dreadnaught enjoyed far more volume than a cruiser or destroyer, and one the engineers had taken special care to provide in order to accommodate the flagship’s new role as the command center for the entire Celostian Navy.

Despite all that space, the room seemed somehow crowded by the four officers who waited in it. Each wore the double stars of an admiral of the Celostian Navy, and even if the room had been filled with people, Jacob’s attention would have been drawn to them in an instant by the obvious hostility they exuded. All four of them locked their attention on him the moment he had stepped into the
room, and the first of them to rise was the last person Jacob wanted to hear from at the moment.

Admiral Jeremiah Borgens was a venerable member of the Celostian Navy’s old guard. He had a grim, bulldog look about his face, complete with jowls, and his eyes glittered with ferocious glee. His career was a distinguished one by most standards, and the Federalists had united behind him as an appointee for the position of admiral easily. Before Tiredel, Alan Nivrosky had assigned Borgens the task of supervising the most critical of the Navy’s shipyards, especially those at New Vermont. After the battle, Borgens had been among the first the Lower Seats had appointed to replace the officers who had died.

“Good to finally see you, Admiral Hull. I was worried your subordinates had delayed you. How has Commander Al-shira been doing lately?”

Jacob stiffened at the indulgent tone, but he forced his own words to be level. “I am sure if you wanted, Admiral Borgens, you could ask
Captain
Al-shira at your earliest opportunity. She would be more than glad to give you all the informationyou could want.”

Borgens’ face flushed red, but before he could respond, Admiral Maruti Siddiqui rose. Her expression was far less combative than Admiral Borgens’, but there was no hint of friendliness in her voice. The Independents had backed her rise to flag rank, and she didn’t like the idea of his appointment to High Admiral any more than the rest of them did. “Admiral Hull, if we could begin the meeting, I feel there are many important issues which we must address. Security along the Frontier has become rather precarious.”

Glad for the opportunity to disengage from the conversation with Borgens, Jacob nodded to Siddiqui. “Of course, Admiral. The situation along the border concerns all of us, not just those of us whose responsibilities lie there.”

Admiral Siddiqui smiled with some satisfaction—she was responsible for the majority of the systems exposed to the border, aside from the spots assigned to Jacob’s command. It was understandable for her to be concerned about the security of the areas
most vulnerable to the Odurans’ attacks. Before the Independent admiral could say anything more, however, Admiral Ilyena Yeseti raised her hand.

“As much as I would agree with that last statement, Admiral Hull, I believe it would be more accurate to express concern for the defense of the Union as a whole, wouldn’t you agree?” Her words came out so harsh the sarcasm couldn’t be missed or misinterpreted, and Jacob had to restrain his own anger before he answered.

“I would agree, Admiral Yeseti. I believe we have all seen the report which came from your office. In fact, it is because of the conclusions of that report I requested that you all meet with me in the first place.”

“Good.” Yeseti nodded slowly. As the admiral responsible for the rearmost areas of the Union, she had become the head of the Navy’s Intelligence branch. The long distance she had traveled from the Abundance system to reach the shipyards in New Vermont had obviously not endeared Jacob to her, but Jacob wasn’t about to let himself be distracted by her personal dislike of him. Instead, he touched a control and brought up an image of the Celostian Union. It was a sparkling patch of stars stained blue, separated by a narrow band of neutral, white stars from the overwhelming sea of red representing the systems owned by the Oduran League.

“I believe it is obvious to all of us the Celostian Navy faces a terrible challenge. Though the sacrifices of our colleagues brought us victory at Tiredel, those losses have now left us in a dangerous situation.” For a moment, it was difficult to speak. Jacob had lost old friends at Tiredel; even now, six months later, it was hard to believe Laurie, a woman who’d been his ally since the Academy, was gone. He forced himself to continue. “Our naval strength has been crippled, and morale throughout the Navy has been devastated. Though our supplies and logistics remain strong, we now lack many of the resources with which we once defended ourselves. As an example, we once had four dreadnaughts to fend off a major incursion by the Odurans. Now we will only have one.”

Borgens coughed loudly into one hand. “Not that you could tell by the look of it.”

Jacob heard another murmur, this time from Admiral Siddiqui, but he pressed forward. “Our other ships are in similar circumstances. So many cruisers and destroyers were damaged or destroyed in the battle that we are having difficulty patrolling the border, as Admiral Siddiqui can attest. We lost many of our lighter forces as well, and it is taking time to rebuild the frigates and corvettes we need for regular trade convoys and pirate interdiction. Although the losses the Odurans took at Tiredel have put an end to their immediate threat, it will only be a matter of time before they resume their offensives. If they come now, we are not ready to stop them.”

Yeseti snorted. “A pretty bit of understatement, Hull.” She glared around the table, as if challenging the others to rebuke her. “You’ve all read the report. It is the estimation of the Naval Intelligence Board that unless things are changed, the Celostian Union will be overrun within eight months.”

No one responded, and Jacob put extra effort into keeping his voice even and calm. “Of course, the estimate could be inaccurate. The Odurans lost much more than we did at Tiredel, and the destruction of seven dreadnaughts with veteran crews is something that will take even the League a long time to replace. We do not have the luxury of optimism, however. They
will
see the opportunity to put an end to us, and I think it is likely they will try to do so soon.

“As the commanding officers of the Celostian Navy, we can’t allow the current state of affairs to continue. If the Celostian Union is going to survive the coming months, the Navy will need to change its strategy to adapt.” Jacob paused and tried not to clench his teeth on the next words. “Since those changes will require broad shifts in Navy policy, I hope I can count on your support to carry them out.”

Silence met his words, and none of the admirals seemed any friendlier for his acknowledgement of the situation. It wasn’t a good sign. He needed these officers to agree with him, or at least enough of them to force a majority vote through the Board.

Fortunately, it was Siddiqui who raised her hand first, and not Borgens. “Admiral Hull, I assume you are already
have a plan for our future strategy?”

Jacob nodded, but before he could speak, Borgens leaned in, the glitter in his eyes growing brighter. “Can we assume you are not, as some have suggested, pulling our ships back from the Frontier to protect more critical locations?” Again, Jacob nodded. The strategy had been the constant theme of many Federalist politicians and officers, but he’d rejected it instantly. Borgens had to have known that, and the murmurs which ran through the rest of the admirals suggested it was not entirely a surprise to the others as well. Then Borgens smiled. “Might I ask why that would be?”

It was a remarkably friendly question, which immediately set Jacob on edge. He knew it had to be a trap, but he couldn’t ignore the opportunity to poke holes in the so-called “Homefront Plan”. He looked around the table, and returned Borgen’s smile. “Thank you, Admiral, for your question.” Borgens drew back slightly, and his predatory grin seemed less certain. Jacob felt his own smile grow wider. “Allow me to show you exactly what sort of obstacles such a plan would create.”

He narrowed the image of Celostian territory to focus on the border. The red, glowing stars of the League seemed numberless by comparison to the Union’s blue positions, and Jacob began highlighting some of the key systems, such as Tiredel, which the Union had been using as a defensive barrier. “Our current patrols have been holding these systems against Oduran raiders, as well as Telosian pirates and other elements. If we draw back from these positions –” Jacob moved the image to show new defensive positions, much further back from the border – "we would have to abandon several millions of Celostian citizens to those raiders. In order to establish any kind of defensive zone, nearly half the Rhesium Seating would be left unprotected, along with a third of the al-Zerem Seating, and portions of the Tershire, Almonde, and Colossio Seatings.”

Admiral Yeseti, well-known as a fellow Federalist, spoke up. Her voice was cold and dispassionate. “I have no doubt the rest of the Union would appreciate the sacrifices those citizens would make on behalf of the greater whole.” When some of the other admirals stirred, as if uncomfortable, she raised an eyebrow at them. “Such sacrifices are a sad necessity of war. Better a few be lost than the whole face destruction.”

Admiral Siddiqui gave Yeseti a less-than-friendly stare. “Those sacrifices are not voluntarily given, Admiral Yesti. Are you suggesting this Navy abandon its commitment to defending the people of the Frontier? And if so, what is the reason those people should support the Union any longer?”

Borgens made a dismissive gesture. “Difficult choices must be made. We don’t have the resources or the manpower to cover all our bases. Nor do we have any confidence in support from any of your so-called free militias.”

Siddiqui bristled. “Are you suggesting the Navy is more capable of defending the people of the Union then? It has not seemed to do such a good job so far; indeed, the militias proved more than a match for the Oduran military
long
before the Navy was established.”

Yeseti grimaced.
“Possibly because the militia was willing to die so frequently for so little gain. Or do you think it is a coincidence the wiser governments among the Union’s predecessors fostered their own personal detachments to accompany those incompetent buffoons?”

Jacob decided he had allowed quite enough bickering for the day.
“Admirals.” Their attention shifted to him, and he pushed himself back from the table. “The situation has long passed the point where we can rely on the usual answers to our dilemma. Any withdrawal from the border will mean a slow but certain defeat as the Odurans chase after us. In fact, it might represent a much more devastating strategic error since the Odurans, having conquered those areas, would gain forward bases to strike deeper into our territory, without the need to cross the Frontier.”

With a gesture, he took in the length of the border. “For that matter, relying on the support of the militia will only invite defeat in detail. Regardless of the quality of those volunteers—something Admiral Yeseti might be correct to doubt, given previous history—once every system is dependent on itself for aid, the Odurans will be able to focus their efforts on one part of the Union exclusively until it is crushed. They would snap up system after system, Seating after Seating, until their superior numbers have overwhelmed all of our forces. We’d still lose eventually, and the Union would likely die far sooner due to internal feuding.”

Jacob made those last words sharp, and he saw a flinch run through both Siddiqui and Yeseti. Borgens studied him with fresh hostility, and Jacob met his gaze with a flat stare until the other admiral looked away. His point made, Jacob began to gesture to the map again, hoping to finally start his presentation of his plans. It was then the fourth, so far silent, member of the Admiralty Board interrupted him.

“I believe you’ve made your point, Admiral Hull. I am still waiting to hear an alternate solution, however. Do you have one?”

Jacob turned his attention to the speaker. Admiral Roche Mirov was another Federalist officer, one who had managed to garner quite a bit of respect from the Navy in general. He’d been a captain at Tiredel, where he had commanded the
Knight
-class cruiser
Lancelot
in the desperate fight against the Odurans. As a result of his actions, Mirov had won several medals and had been one of the few officers Jacob had looked forward to working with.

At least, he’d looked forward to it until Admiral Mirov had become the Federalists’ best alternative to Jacob for a High Admiral. Jacob’s hopes had wavered, but Mirov hadn’t made any statements personally that he wanted the post. In fact, he’d always remained a rather quiet and enigmatic figure to the Union public as a whole, keeping both his political opinions and sympathies largely buried beneath an impassive silence.

Of course, Mirov hadn’t had to say anything. David Kenning had launched an enthusiastic campaign on behalf of Admiral Mirov, almost from the very moment he’d resigned from the Navy. Jacob had discovered the high-born Kenning family was a longtime friend of Admiral Mirov, to the point  they had sponsored his rise through the ranks of the Navy. In return, Admiral Mirov had advocated for David Kenning’s placement in the Intelligence section of the Navy’s forces—and still had Alexander Kenning, David’s brother, as a member of his personal staff.