Eagle (Jacob Hull) (5 page)

Though Turley’s obvious good cheer was reassuring, though it was hard to see the humor in such a serious situation. “A little more data would be appreciated, Lieutenant Commander.”

Turley gave him a smile that was all teeth. “All right then. Let’s take a hypothetical situation then, to help you understand. Let’s say you’re a Feddie with a lot of political influence in the military. The admirals are your
buddies, you’ve got loads of friends all through the Navy. What kind of company do you think you’ll invest in to take advantage of those sorts of connections?”

Jacob mulled over the question for a little while. “Probably something military related. The companies that send us
supplies, construct equipment, maybe even build ships…” He trailed off as he thought through the possibilities the question had opened up.

Turley nodded. “Yep, that’s pretty much right. If you ever look through the list of companies with Feddies on their boards of directors, you’ll find a lot of the contractors the Navy uses. After all, if you need something done you turn to your friends, right? And if that friend just happens to make a little money off the deal, no harm
done.”

Then Turley’s face grew more serious. “But let’s say your friend makes an enemy or two. There’s an officer who has managed to make him mad, or get in his way. You’ve
still got those business connections, and you can ask the officer buddies you’ve made to harass him, make life difficult. What do you think you’d do if the little bastard started a major construction project?”

Understanding dawned. “You’re saying some of the contractors are sabotaging the
Eagle
.”

Turley waved the accusation away. “Sabotaging might be too strong a word.
Feeding us faulty parts, yes. Skimping on inspections, definitely. Using substandard techniques or bad engineering, probably.” He shook his head again. “Outright sabotage, no. There might be a few out there who had malice in their hearts—in fact, I’m starting to think the rotten bastards have somebody aboard to kick the pipes loose every so often—but for the most part these are just people who are taking bribes to make things go wrong for you.”

Jacob blinked.
“For me? The
Eagle
might be under my command, but she belongs to the Navy. Don’t they care that they are sabotaging a ship they will need to defend their homes?”

“Well, they don’t see it that way, Jacob.” Turley looked as if he wanted to spit, but he just wiped his hands on his overalls. “The
Eagle
’s been your pet project ever since Tiredel, and Smithson has given you every chance to push it through. The damn thing has cost us nearly half our shipbuilding budget, and the refits to the rest of the fleet are going to cost us more than the other half we have left. You think people are going to happy about that? Especially when they probably had plans—maybe pet projects of their own— don’t get done now?”

“The defense of the Union is more important than anybody’s private agenda, Turley.” Jacob could feel anger start to burn in his heart. “Even the worst of my political opponents should have seen that.”

Turley gave him a measuring look. “The worst of your opponents, Sir, wouldn’t see that if it hit him in the face.” He looked around, as if making sure no spying ears were listening. “In fact, I’d say one particular bastard is behind most of the problems we’ve been having, and his own personal agenda is more or less all the damn fool cares about.”

There was only one person Turley could have been referring to.
“Kenning.”

Turley nodded.
“Got it in one.” He looked around again. “I’d say about half the bad stuff we’ve been seeing has come through contractors connected to his family. They aren’t small fish, either—we can’t afford to go with alternate companies because these ones have grown too big and crowded out most of their competition. He’s obviously still gunning for you, Sir, and he knows if the
Eagle
fails, your reputation will take a major hit.”

Jacob grinned, though he wasn’t exactly amused by the direction his thoughts were going. “And if I happen to be aboard when everything goes wrong, so much the better for him, right?” He sighed. “Turley, am I going to be able to depend on my
flagship? I’m counting on this ship to be able to stand up to Oduran dreadnaughts and win. Can I?”

Turley’s expression grew thoughtful. “I’d say you probably could, Sir. We’ve built a damn fine ship here, despite the issues we’ve been having, and my crew is already starting to clear all of that stuff out. The armor is solid—they’ve even adapted the original internal armoring concept and improved it—so she’ll hold up no matter what kind of fire you take her into. Her guns are well placed too; the ship has plenty of teeth when she’ll need them.” Turley reached out one hand and laid it against the wall of the corridor. “Give me a few weeks, and I will make sure this ship can fight off anything we meet. You have my word, Jacob.”

It was as good an assurance as any Jacob could get. He smiled. “That’s all I needed to hear, Turley.” Then he looked around the corridor, noting the massive assembly of machines and circuits around them “We’ve come a long way since
Wolfhound
, haven’t we?”

“If so, then why the hell am I still looking for screw-ups you’ve caused, Admiral?” Turley chuckled a bit and then subsided. He saluted. “If you’ll pardon me, Sir, I’ve got a few things to take care of. You know the trouble an ensign can get into if you don’t watch them carefully enough.”

Jacob returned the salute and gave the engineer a wry look. “I do at that, Lieutenant Commander Turley. Good luck.” He watched the engineer retreat along the corridor, remembering the time he’d spent in
Wolfhound
’s Engineering bay. Then he shook himself free of his memories and continued down the corridor, where his hazy recollection of the ship’s schematics suggested he could find a lift back to the deck where his office was located. There was still too much to do, and not enough time to do it in, but at least he had the right people in place to help him.

Chapter Five

The knock at Jacob’s door brought his head up, and he smiled when the officer he’d summoned walked through the doorway. “Captain Meriweather. I’m glad you could make it.”

Captain Elizabeth Meriweather, the Intelligence division officer assigned to the
Eagle
, came to attention and made a very proper salute. “I came as ordered, Sir. I’m sorry if I was delayed. The layout aboard the
Eagle
has changed.”

Jacob came to his feet and returned the woman’s salute. “I understand, Captain. I’m still getting used to things myself.” He gestured to a seat in front of his desk.
“If you would take a seat?”

The Intelligence chief frowned, but her expression returned to professional impassivity quickly. She sat and waited patiently while Jacob finished with the report that had occupied him before her arrival. Then Jacob turned his attention back to her, phrasing his next words carefully. After all, while Meriweather was under his command, she was still part of the Intelligence department; anything he said to her could easily get back to Admiral Yeseti. It would probably be best to be roundabout in his questions. “Thank you very much for coming. I know your duties keep you very busy.”

Meriweather smiled. “I suppose you could say that, sir.” Her smile dimmed. “Though I wish I was the conduit for much better news. Most of what we are hearing from the League is rather unpleasant.”

Jacob frowned. “I can see that from the reports which have crossed my desk so far. In fact, that is very much related to why I asked you to come here today.” He tapped a few controls and brought up a projection of the stars near the border of the Union. “I’m worried about where they might begin attacking us once they get their feet under them again. Has the Intelligence section heard anything that would suggest they are going to reopen their raids along the Frontier, or where they might come from?”

With only the slightest hint of hesitation, Meriweather shook her head. “No, Sir. They seem much more preoccupied with setting their own internal affairs in order. The fallout from their last attack seems to have left them off balance and unable to conduct large scale operations against us.” Meriweather paused. “Of course, limited engagements and scouting missions might still occur. Our sources indicate President Sessors is very interested in having an accurate assessment of our strength, most likely so when she
can
strike at us, her attack has the best possible effect for her political situation.”

So far, the information lined up perfectly with what Jacob wanted to hear. He tapped one finger on the desk, thinking over his plans. “And President Sessors is building up her forces for just that kind of a
strike, am I correct?” Meriweather nodded, and Jacob continued. “What kind of forces do we know she has available?”

Meriweather pondered the question a moment, and when she answered, her voice was hesitant. “Data on the disposition of their forces has grown increasingly hard to access. We had a handful of sources near their main deployment areas, so keeping track
of their ship concentrations was rather easy before Tiredel. Now their ships are on the move more often than not, which makes things more complicated—not to mention some of our sources have been purged along with the rest of the officers Sessors killed. In fact, much of what we know about their supply stations has actually come from members of the Oathbound community on Tiredel, and much of their information is likely obsolete by now.”

Jacob restrained a burst of impatience. “I understand the question is not an easy one, Captain. Nevertheless, I need to know what we
have
figured out about the enemy’s available strength.”

The Intelligence chief nodded.
“Of course, Admiral.” She ran through a kind of mental tally before she spoke again. “The main assault arm of the Oduran military has always been concentrated in their dreadnaught force. They have made efforts to update and maintain that force at around twenty to twenty five ships over the past two decades.”

When Jacob motioned for her to continue, Meriweather rested her hands, palms down, on his desk. “Of the twenty known operational Oduran dreadnaughts, at least ten have been destroyed in recent years. They lost at least two of their
Troll
-class ships during their campaign against Rigannin, a
Banner
-class at Wayward, and another seven
Banner
-class ships at Tiredel. Those losses have actually accounted for over two-thirds of the most modern ships of their dreadnaught fleet, which has compelled them to act conservatively with the remaining four
Banner
-class ships. As I understand it, President Sessors has ordered at least three of them to remain stationed above their capital at Lemond until further notice. The fourth is on a tour of their central systems, kept very far from the front.”

Jacob did a quick calculation. “So those ships are effectively unavailable for any assault against us. How many
Troll
-class ships are left? And how quickly can their shipyards construct more of their newer ships to replace their losses?”

Meriweather’s expression grew uncertain. “The Odurans have not invested much of their industrial capacity in dreadnaughts at the moment. Sessors seems to have focused more on basic patrol ships such as corvettes and frigates, so she can more effectively control her own people. Our projections indicate the tendency to focus on smaller craft will continue for quite some time. The remaining eight
Troll
-class dreadnaughts have also been dedicated to internal security, mostly above rebellious worlds that need to be kept in line by force. One has actually even been committed to permanent service with the Telosians as well.”

“So they aren’t rebuilding then?” Jacob sat back. “Could they actually be abandoning dreadnaughts in general after what happened to them at Tiredel?”

Meriweather shook her head. “No, sir. They simply aren’t relying on new construction to provide those dreadnaughts.” She gestured to the border. “The Odurans had been in the process of mothballing their older
Troll
-class ships in favor of the newer
Banner
-class craft. Those ships were placed in storage docks rather than destroyed outright. Our sources estimate at least seven of those ships still exist, and that the Odurans will opt to refit and rearm those vessels rather than waiting for their shipyards to rebuild their forces.”

“Seven dreadnaughts.”
The number staggered Jacob. The prospect of facing even a handful of those behemoths with his crippled forces was overwhelming, but seven seemed like an unstoppable avalanche his ships could never hope to turn back. “How soon would they be active?”

“Unknown.” Meriweather brought out her personal reader and tapped a few buttons. “Our best estimates indicate at least one or two should be online within the next few weeks, but it is hard for our agents to develop sources near the shipyards where the vessels are being kept. Our latest scouting reports tell us at least
a handful are being kept in two facilities near the border, with the rest at a third base located well inside their territory. At most, they will all be ready within two months.” She paused, and her voice grew grim. “If we’ve underestimated their resources, those ships might already be active now.”

The prospect of facing an entire fleet of dreadnaughts like the force that had hit Tiredel, with only a single ship of comparable size to fight them, was not something Jacob wanted to consider. That day would come soon if he didn’t do anything; the very fact they were stationing the ships near the border meant they were probably going to cross it the moment their dreadnaughts were ready. Jacob forced himself to breathe evenly, trying to focus.

“So if the Odurans start moving a lot around those two facilities, they’re probably getting ready to attack. That’s something to watch for.” Jacob paused. That was probably enough misdirection to keep Yeseti guessing; now he needed the information on his real target. “ What about their main forward staging base? The one where Gates got his supplies before he attacked Tiredel?”

Meriweather frowned. “You mean Kryshaen?” She paused for a long moment. “I do not remember any major changes to the garrison at Kryshaen. Logic would suggest they’ve reduced the garrisons there to protect other locations since they are not planning an operation. It is possible the enemy is trying to reinforce all major areas along their border, in order to present a show of force to reassure the Telosians.” Jacob grunted, and she paused. “If you would like, I can try to make the most recent reports available to you, sir.”

“That would be good, Captain.” Then his gaze went to the border again, and Jacob felt the turmoil in him steady. The Odurans weren’t attacking yet; there was still time to act against them. He looked back at Captain Meriweather. “In fact, could you forward me the data on Kryshaen and the other major supply bases as well? If I hear about increased activity at any of those spots along the border, it would help me to identify the context a bit better. I don’t want the Odurans to catch us off guard if they begin to move soon.”

Meriweather smiled.
“Of course, Sir.” She tapped a few more buttons, and then looked up at him. “Is there anything else you needed, Admiral?”

Jacob shook his head. “No. Thank you. You’ve been more than helpful.” Meriweather stood up to head for the door, and Jacob wondered if he had been too obvious in his questions. It was always possible Yeseti would guess his plans—she had not been made the head of the Intelligence branch simply due to her bitterness—but hopefully she would put things together only after it was too late to stop him. Then again, she just might let him launch his attack in the hopes it would get him killed.

Somehow that thought didn’t help Jacob feel better about the situation.

Jacob had been hard at work at his desk for what felt like a few days when his console chirped at him. Trying to keep impatience from his voice, he hit the key to activate it. “Admiral Hull. Who is it?”

“Lieutenant Commander Simmons from Communications, Sir.”
The officer sounded nervous. “We’ve received a message from Captain Nivrosky. He wanted to let you know he has arrived and will be docking with
Eagle
soon.”

Jacob nodded; his heart started beating fast. Had Leon managed to convince the High Seat? If he hadn’t, what would he do next? Shaking off those worries, Jacob stood. “Thank you Lieutenant Commander. Inform the captain I will meet him at the shuttle bay.”

“Sir.” The Communication’s officer sounded hesitant, but he continued in an insistent tone. “He also said to tell you the shuttle is also carrying High Seat Smithson, sir.”

Jacob froze. The High Seat had come in person? That was almost unheard of; there was simply too much to take care of for the highest legal authority in the Union to leave Celostia. Then Jacob shook off his astonishment. “Thank you, Lieutenant Commander.” He started for the door. It was promising to be a very long day.

The shuttle entered the dock slowly, and Jacob watched the outer hatch close with barely restrained impatience. The light over the entryway changed to yellow and then green, indicating atmosphere had been pumped back into the dock and it was now safe to enter. The instant the hatch was operational, Jacob went through. Ashford had to hurry to keep up as he followed him.

By the time Jacob walked across the dock to where the shuttle was waiting, Ashford tailing him at a discrete pace, the shuttle had already disgorged four Marines in full combat armor. They all had their weapons at the ready, and they tossed salutes to Ashford and Jacob as they took up positions around the hatch. The next person through was the High Seat of the Celostian Union, Adam Smithson.

Smithson was the man who had assigned Jacob the task of putting the Navy back together; the warm smile he gave Jacob suggested the chief officer of the Union did not
regret his choice yet. The medallion symbolizing Smithson’s authority lay on his chest as he descended to the deck of the shuttle bay, and he spoke a few quiet words with the head of his security team. Then he crossed the deck at a measured, stately pace. Behind him came Leon, who looked utterly exhausted. Whether the fatigue was from the journey or the fact he was escorting the head of the Union was hard to tell.

Jacob came to attention and saluted, as did Ashford at his side. They both remained in that position until Smithson had given them a friendly nod.
“Now, now, enough of that you two. We’ve got quite a bit too much to do for all of that nonsense.” He glanced at Leon, who had wearily copied their salutes. “Besides, I believe poor Captain Nivrosky is about to pass out.”

With an exasperated grunt, Jacob dropped his salute. “Discipline is not nonsense, High Seat—and I think Captain Nivrosky knew what he was getting into when he agreed to be my chief of staff.” He turned to Leon. “So, Captain, did you have an interesting trip?”

Leon gave him a smile. “A bit more interesting than we planned on, obviously. I think we should head to the nearest conference room, where we can go over things in private?” He looked at the High Seat, one eyebrow raised.

Smithson sighed. “That would be wise Admiral Hull.
If you could indulge us?”

Jacob gestured for them to follow him, and he led the way toward the entry hatch for the bay. Two of the High Seat’s security team followed them while the remaining two stayed with the ship. Ashford walked alongside, his posture expressing anything but excitement at the prospect of another meeting. It was a studiously quiet walk through the corridor.