“So you managed to create a little civil unrest among them.” Personally, Jacob was not surprised. If there was one thing von Clarence was good at, it was stirring up trouble. He was just happy to see the talent applied to an enemy for a change. “Do you think it will be enough to stop their move for separation?”
Nathan nodded. “That is our hope. There is enough doubt now among their population to demand a local referendum on the issue. The government of San Marcos was forced to acknowledge the request. They were already organizing it when we left.” He glanced at the others. “I believe it may be possible the entire situation will be resolved when Carmichael and the others are faced with a popular rejection of their ideals by a substantial portion of their own people.”
“I disagree, Nathan.” Al-Kesh’s voice was not as faint or fragile as before, and Jacob looked at him in surprise. The man was no longer dry washing his hands; they lay in his lap. He stared at them without actually seeing anything. “Carmichael and his group are too committed to their cause. They will not allow themselves to be turned aside by a vote.”
Von Clarence looked at his friend, concern on his face. “What is your assessment, then?”
“I predict they will instead use the results of the referendum to further stir up fear in the rest of their people. They will begin a witch-hunt for supporters of the Union to weed out opposition. Internment camps may be set up to contain any large portions of the population who reject their vision of the future, while high profile opposition leaders are either jailed or killed. If the faction is large enough, the government may also force their opponents off-world rather than continuing to support them in prison.” A bitter smile crossed Al-Kesh’s face. “Killing them all would cause them to lose face, after all.”
“A purge.” Jacob wondered if he sounded as stunned as he felt. “You’re saying they’d rather purge their own people than listen to what they want.”
“I am.” Al-Kesh glanced at Nathan, and then returned to staring at his hands. “If I am incorrect, then I will gladly accept my perspective of the situation was too pessimistic. My own personal experience, however, is that a demagogue does not give up power, no matter what the people think or want. Carmichael will use force to keep his position, and he won’t care what it will cost to maintain control.”
Jacob stared at the man. What kind of personal experience could he have been talking about?
Then the accent that had troubled him for so long clicked into place, and Jacob felt the hair along the back of his neck rise. “You’re from Rigannin.”
Von Clarence cast Jacob a sharp look and opened his mouth to leap to his friend's defense. Al-Kesh, on the other hand, stilled the former High Seat with a gesture. “Yes, I am, High Admiral.” He looked away. “And as I’ve said, I’ve seen too much of this sort of thing—and I’ve had infinitely more experience with the consequences. In this case, I am confident the situation on San Marcos will continue to deteriorate up until the current leadership is removed by force. If they are not removed, those people may well wish they had never set foot on the planet.”
There was absolute certainty in those words, and Jacob nodded slowly. “So they will consolidate their power on San Marcos. Where do you think they would go next? I don’t think they would be stupid enough to believe the rest of the Union would allow them to commit open purges.”
“You are correct, High Admiral.” Al-Kesh still did not meet Jacob’s gaze. “They will attack whatever place the refugees from the purge are sent. And because it will make sense for them to concentrate their foes in one place, they may decide to send them to Tiredel.”
Jacob wanted so badly to point out the flaws in those words. Memories of Schroder ran through his mind, inextricably linked with the same refined accent as Al-Kesh’s. He saw the traitor mocking him, pointing a gun at him on Wolfhound’s bridge, threatening both him and those he cared for. Hatred boiled within him, barely restrained by his self-discipline.
Jacob shoved those memories, those feelings aside and tried to consider the man’s evaluation objectively. It sounded as solid as anything else Jacob had heard about San Marcos and the people under Carmichael. In fact, it ran very close to what Jacob had been thinking about the possible disasters that could come out of the situation. While he could appreciate Nathan Maxwell’s optimism, he thought it far more likely Carmichael would react badly to any vote against him. He could move his ships to Tiredel and prevent any attempt by the separatists to follow up on their crimes.
All Jacob had to do was trust the word of someone from Rigannin.
Unable to face that obstacle yet, Jacob turned to von Clarence. “Is there anything else you are able to tell me about the situation there? Every piece of data I can collect will mean we have a better picture of how they will react when the time comes.”
Von Clarence leaned back in his seat, his eyes narrow. “There was very little else we were able to learn while we were there. Their defense forces are strong, but I do not know most of the details. They were careful to wipe any sensor readings and records we might have made from our ship’s computer banks. Our activities on the surface were very heavily monitored, so we weren’t able to access anything but the most public information while we were actually at San Marcos, and in any case we were too occupied with our efforts among the populace to concern ourselves with military affairs.”
Before Jacob could respond to von Clarence’s dismissive tone, Nathan spoke next. “I can tell you that before they deported us, there was no hint of any other plots against the Union. I doubt the public on San Marcos is even aware of Admiral Yeseti’s arrival there, or her attempt to kill you.”
Jacob grunted. “So there’s not a whole lot to gain by accusing them of complicity then?”
Al-Kesh shook his head. Jacob tried hard not to glare at him. “It is likely that if you send ships to collect her, the leadership will pretend she is not there. San Marcos may have offered her an unofficial sanctuary, and any attempt to search for her may lead to an escalation of conflict. Further, it would play right into Carmichael’s hands by giving him a prime example of what a threat the Navy can be to him and his people. You would end up empty-handed, and Carmichael’s position in power would be solidified.”
“Great.” Jacob couldn’t help the growl in his voice, despite how von Clarence glared. The situation was not looking extremely good. “Anything else? Has Carmichael somehow managed to discover how to launch the Union directly into a black hole or something? Or maybe he’s going to convince the rest of my admirals to turn on me and try to kill me?”
The bitterness in his voice embarrassed both Nathan and Al-Kesh. Both looked away as if trying not to acknowledge Jacob’s frustrations. Von Clarence, on the other hand, merely offered him a sardonic little smile. “There is one more thing Admiral Hull.”
Jacob resisted the urge to groan and covered his eyes with one hand. He braced himself. “What is it?”
“In our last hours on San Marcos, I visited one of their diplomatic stations.” Von Clarence’s voice was even. He didn’t seem intimidated by Jacob’s growing irritation at all. “I was attempting to stop the process of their removal of our mission from their planet. My protests did little good, but it did give me the chance to notice something.”
Von Clarence’s tone grew cautious, and Jacob blinked in surprise. Caution was not a word he’d associated with the former High Seat, and he doubted that much could worry the man. If he was concerned, it was probably something crucial. Jacob gestured for von Clarence to continue.
“The consulate was preparing for something, some kind of new arrival. I heard a lot of chatter about some kind of trade mission that was on the way, and the staff who were working that day seemed irritated when I discussed it with them. Most either ignored my questions completely or evaded the subject as much as they could.”
Jacob frowned. “Given their secrecy, they probably didn’t want you prying into their affairs. That seems logical.”
“True.” Von C
larence nodded, and then he hesitated again. “I don’t believe it was a simple trade embassy, however. If these visitors were only going to be some delegation from the Union, there would be little need for secrecy since I could discover it the moment I came back to Union territory. If they were from some portion of the Frontier, surely they could not provide enough benefits to warrant such extensive preparations.”
A chill went through Jacob when he realized what von Clarence was hinting at. He stared at von Clarence for a few more moments. When he forced himself to speak, his voice was hoarse. “That’s not possible. There’s no way even a bunch of separatists would do what I think you’re implying.”
Von Clarence met his eyes stubbornly. “I’m not saying I have definitive proof, Admiral. I’m merely telling you what I observed.” Then he met Jacob’s gaze again, and his voice was firm. “Nevertheless, I would consider it wise if you were careful to consider the possibility. Carmichael and the rest of his people might well have been preparing to receive ambassadors from the Oduran League.” He glanced at the hatch, as if he could see all the way to where the Oathbound were living on Tiredel. “Given our situation, I would consider the possibility very carefully indeed.”
The Eagle’s main shuttle bays were very different from the VIP bays Jacob was accustomed to. Where the VIP bays were secluded and relatively quiet, the port main bay was a riot of shuttles arriving and departing. Eagle was large enough it could afford a modified lock system that allowed shuttles to dock with the dreadnaught without waiting for the entire bay to depressurize and repressurize each time. A shuttle would approach, glide through one set of giant armored hatches, wait for a moment while the smaller space filled with atmosphere, and then glide through to land inside the bay itself.
There were half a dozen of those hatches in the port bay alone, and all of them were busy launching or receiving shuttles. Jacob shuddered to think what kind of damage an Oduran missile might do to the area, but the bays were locked down during combat and located at the rear of the ship where the enemy would have a hard time targeting them. In fact, Jacob mused, an Oduran craft approaching from that angle would likely arget their DE sail rigs instead. Not the most cheerful possibility, but when the choice was between massive internal explosions or crippled propulsion units, there wasn’t a lot of happiness to spread around.
As if summoned by the thought, Ashford’s voice echoed across the busy shuttle bay. “Well I’ll be damned! High Admiral Jacob Hull, come to see me off.”
Jacob turned and saw the Marine officer being escorted to his craft. Ashford was still pale, and one of his honor guard was from the Eagle’s medical staff, but he seemed to be recovering well. It was an incredible relief to see him walking on his own two feet, though he wasn't entirely steady yet. The Marine did not salute; his right arm had been taken off just above the elbow.
Determined to not even glance at the Marine’s missing arm, Jacob locked his gaze onto Ashford’s face and nodded. “I couldn’t let you leave without saying thank you one last time, General. I owe you my life.”
“And I hope you don’t forget it, Sir.” Ashford looked as sour as ever, and he grumbled to himself. “I also hope you don’t think I’m going to rot in the paperwork hell you’ve got waiting for me. It won’t be long before you’re going to have to deal with me again soon.”
“I look forward to it, General Ashford.” Jacob nodded again and stepped to one side to let Ashford and his retinue past. “Have a safe journey. The Admiralty Board will be waiting for you to familiarize yourself with your command and return.”
Ashford grunted again and stepped forward. Then he paused, and he looked at Jacob with more serious eyes. “Give them hell, Jacob.”
With that, Ashford made his way to his shuttle, still escorted by a bodyguard of his own. Jacob watched him go for a while, and then turned and saw the second person he had come to see off staring at him from across the bay.
Captain Naomi Al-shira was dressed in her finest uniform, as was appropriate. She had requested permission to visit Celostia itself to look for copies of Intelligence reports that predated Admiral Yeseti’s tenure. If there were any clues, she argued, they could be found in the computer records of the capital of the Union, where Yeseti might not have been able to corrupt them. What Yeseti had tried to hide, they could focus on uncovering, and what they uncovered, they could use to stop her.
Jacob was forced to wonder how much of that mission was because of a desire to do her duty and how much was because she wanted to leave the ship. How far would she go to avoid being around him from now on? He squashed that treacherous thought. Then Naomi straightened her shoulders and walked across the deck toward him, her face a professional mask. “High Admiral.”
“Captain Al-shira.” Jacob returned her sharp salute, then continued in what he hoped was a neutral tone. “You seem like you are ready to go.”
“I am, Sir.” The firm response stung. Al-shira looked away. “How did your meeting with von Clarence go, Sir?”
Jacob gave her a sidelong glare. “We didn’t punch each other in the face, if that’s what you’re asking. He went on his way to Tiredel unharmed.” She looked at him levelly, and he sighed. “They provided me with some crucial information, but I’m not sure how much of it I trust. Even if they were exaggerating, San Marcos could be just the kind of disaster we aren’t ready to face yet.”
“You may want to ask for support from the remainder of the Admiralty Board then, Sir.” Then Al-shira let out a long breath, and her mask of formality seemed to fade slightly. “Take care of yourself, High Admiral. I’ll be back soon.”
He remained silent for a moment, and then Jacob straightened. “As ordered, Captain. Good hunting on Celostia.”
She saluted, a gesture Jacob returned, and then Al-shira strode away toward the shuttle waiting for her. Jacob watched her go for some time and then turned away. He had a Navy to run now, and it wasn’t going to wait for him to finish moping. If he’d learned anything from Naomi Al-shira, that much was something he’d taken to heart.
Chapter Eighteen
The meeting of the Admiralty Board was a somber affair this time.
Not all the members of the Board were present. Ashford, the newest member, was still en route to Carvell. Jacob decided it would be best to give the Marine a chance to settle in at the training facility there before placing even more demands on him. Admirals Siddiqui, Mirov, and Borgens were all present, however, and their expressions showed the difference the past few weeks had made in all of them. Siddiqui was grim but determined; Borgens had a permanently sour expression stamped on his face. Mirov was entirely changed. His eyes were hollow, distant; he appeared haunted by the legacy of Yeseti’s betrayal.
It was not the best time to confront these officers with bad news, but Jacob had had no choice. The information he’d received was too urgent to leave untold for long. There was a long pause as he finished the summary of his conversation with Al-Kesh and von Clarence, as well as the basic outline of the plans he’d made to fight the Odurans.
When he’d finished, Borgens was the first to speak. “Well, if Roderick thinks the fools will begin a purge, I say we let them. It will give us plenty of excuses to move in and put down their little rebellion.”
“It would also allow them to frame the conflict as an invasion by the Union.” Siddiqui held up a hand to forestall a harsh response. “Not that I sympathize with these traitors, but their rhetoric has used independence and self-governance as a touchstone. It could help them gain support among those loyal to the Union who are nonetheless…uncomfortable…with the strength of our military.”
Mirov spoke, his voice very soft. “Our actions could also give them the emergency they need to commit further atrocities. If they are willing to initiate a purge of their dissenters, what other tactics would they use to solidify their control?”
Jacob grunted and folded his arms across his chest. “Personally, I do not want to know the answer to that question. Does anyone disagr
ee?”
Borgens shook his head. “I do not doubt the depths to which these separatists can sink, but will we really allow them to hold their own people hostage against us while they threaten the rest of the Union?” He gestured to an image of the border where the star of San Marcos glowed brightly. “If the former High Seat’s information was accurate, San Marcos could very easily fill the vacuum in the Oduran supply chain. In fact, it would support an Oduran strike force even better than Kryshaen could have done, simply because it is so much closer to Tiredel. We cannot allow that threat to our security to remain.”
“We may have no other choice.” Mirov looked around at the others to gauge their agreement. “We can’t forget our intelligence operations have been severely compromised. We can trust very few of our information resources, especially when it comes to San Marcos. For all we know, the separatists have three times the number of ships Yeseti allowed to be reported. She could also very well have left traitors and spies in our midst to report to her if we move toward her refuge. Our ships could enter the system and find themselves in a lethal ambush.”
“At the very least, then, we should attempt to find out if that is the case.” Siddiqui looked at Jacob. “Could I assume my militia scouts might be of use in that effort?”
Borgens snorted. “San Marcos is under a self-imposed blockade to all Union traffic, merchant or otherwise. Besides, our former comrade knew all about our plans to utilize the militia. Surely the separatists will be watching for that trick. Besides, if we are reluctant to send an entire task force to San Marcos, surely we should be just as concerned about sending in armed freighters.”
“You’re right, Admiral Borgens.” Jacob hated the lack of intelligence on the separatist base, and he would have loved nothing more than to charge in shooting, but he could see the sense in the caution the others were advocating. His attack on Kryshaen had been carried out with as much information as he had available, and rushing in this time could undo everything he had worked so hard to gain. “Militia scouts have other responsibilities. Someone has to watch for the Odurans on the border.”
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