Badger

by Kindal Debenham

  Isaac stretched, straining his lanky arms slightly as he worked the kinks out of his limbs. “Go ahead, shoot. I’ll help out if I can.”

  “In the past few hours, somebody broke into Captain Upshaw’s quarters.”

  The Gunnery officer stopped mid stretch, his mouth falling open in surprise.

  Before Isaac could comment, Jacob continued. “Nothing was stolen, but it seems like the intruder was looking for something. His belongings were ransacked, his computer was accessed, and his files examined.” Jacob hesitated. “Isaac, the hatch was hacked to give the intruder access. I need to know you weren’t involved in that.”

  “You’re kidding right? Tell me this is some kind of joke.” His friend’s eyes were wide with shock and betrayal. “Jacob, you know I wouldn’t—”

  “Of course I do, Isaac.” Jacob shifted uncomfortably on his seat. “But I can’t just ignore the fact that you could have done it. You are one of the few skilled hackers we have aboard, and you haven’t exactly been shy about pulling the occasional prank with your knowledge of our security systems.”

  Isaac spitted him with a glare. “Jacob, there’s a world of difference between posting an embarrassing message or programming a hatch to stay shut and breaking into the quarters of some random superior officer. Especially when it looks like espionage.” Isaac shook his head. “Laurie said you were acting weird, but this is crazy. You could get me court martialed for something I didn’t do.”

  Jacob felt his temper flare. “Isaac, I have my hands tied here. The entire ship knows we’re friends and knows just as well about your computer skills. If I try to exempt you, Espinoza, Kenning, and Upshaw will pin me to the wall for showing you favoritism. They might even put me in a court martial right along with you.”

  A knowing smirk settled on Isaac’s lips. “And we wouldn’t want to risk that command rank, would we, Captain Hull? Not that you would have gotten it without help from people like me, but who cares about the details. You weren’t exactly complaining about my hacking skills then, now were you?”

  The conversation so far had gone just as badly as Jacob had predicted it would. He shook his head. “Look, Isaac, if you didn’t do anything then you should have nothing to worry about. The investigation will be done by neutral Support personnel and the Marines. They’ll come up with a blank, and we can move on to the rest of the possible suspects.”

  “Yeah, unless any of those people doing the investigation happen to be feeling a bit uncharitable toward me because of a prank. Or are connected to somebody that I’ve done something to in the past.” Isaac threw his hands up. “Jacob, you’re giving them the prime opportunity to set me up here.”

  The plaintive words only stoked Jacob’s temper higher. “No Isaac, I’m not. And if you’re really that worried about your pranks coming back to haunt you, maybe you should have thought about that possibility before you pissed off some of your previous commanding officers with your antics. You’re going to cooperate with the investigation, be cleared as a suspect, and move on with your duties.” He paused, feeling as if he were a hairsbreadth from the edge of a precipice, and then soldiered on. “You can consider that an order if you like.”

  Isaac’s face closed down with each sentence. By the end, there was only a blank expression staring back at Jacob, with a steady undercurrent of anger underneath. Slowly, with an elaborate stiffness, Isaac stood and came to attention. He saluted, and his voice was void of any inflection or emotion. “As ordered, Captain Hull. Do you have any further instructions for me, sir?”

  Jacob came to his feet. Isaac was avoiding his eyes, staring at some point beyond and to the side of him. He shook his head. “Damn it, Isaac, I’m doing this because I have to. Do you really have to make it harder for me?”

  “I would not want to provide any difficulties for my commanding officer, sir.” Isaac’s expression turned even more wooden. “If you do not have any further orders, sir, I would like to get some sleep. Would that be permitted, sir?”

  For a moment, Jacob considered whether he should stay and have it out with Isaac right then. As he studied his friend, a kind of terrible weariness crashed in on him, and he made a different choice. “Yes, Lieutenant Bellsworth, that would be fine.” A flicker of anger swept across Isaac’s face, but it was buried all too quickly beneath that formal expression again. Jacob continued, his words fueled by his own frustration and rage. “The investigation team will be at your quarters in four hours to collect any evidence they might need. I expect full cooperation. Once you are done with them, I want you to get back to work with the Gunnery crews. Is that understood, Lieutenant?”

  “Yes, sir.” The short response seemed strained, as if Isaac was now so angry he was having difficulty keeping himself restrained. He said nothing more, and Jacob simply nodded slowly.

  “Good. Thank you for your time.” Jacob turned and walked to the door. He pretended not to hear the muttered cursing as he stepped through the hatch and closed it behind him. Just outside, he bent his head and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to wipe away a sudden headache. The pain did not fade, and Jacob knew that it likely had more to do with frustration and anger than anything else.

  He lowered his hand and started down the corridor again, trying to ignore both the headache and the empty feeling of loss in his gut. There were three other crew members he needed to speak with, and he hoped they wouldn’t give him as much trouble—or as much remorse—as Isaac had. It promised to be a long, long night.

  Chapter Four

  A knock sounded on Jacob’s office door. He looked up and blinked. Reports on the supplies available to both his destroyers had consumed his attention for the past hour. They had passed by a local Naval station in Jennison on their way back from the border, and both ships had loaded some food and other needed material, but it hadn’t quite been enough. Both Terrier and Beagle were still running on the last of their rations, and the base commander at Jennison hadn’t wanted to empty his stores for ships that were heading deeper into Celostian space. His decision had been easy to understand—outbound ships would probably need supplies more urgently—but that didn’t make stale rations any fresher. Noodles had been his crews’ constant meal for the past three weeks, and if Jacob suffered through another dinner of limp spaghetti he was likely going to break down.

  The visitor knocked again, bringing Jacob’s mind firmly back to the present. With a firm effort not to sigh, he called out. “Come in.”

  Commander Flint opened the door and stepped in. He took a moment to shut the door before he saluted. “Captain Hull. We’ve just made the riftjump to Ducennes.”

  “Good.” Jacob stood and returned the salute. “Thank you for the report.” Flint nodded briefly, and he turned to leave. As much as Jacob would have preferred Flint’s absence, he spoke up again. “Commander, how is the investigation going?”

  Flint paused before he turned back around. “As well as can be expected, sir. There is no evidence available to determine who the culprit was. Our Security personnel are doing their best, but we may not be able to find the person—or persons—responsible before we rendezvous with the rest of the fleet.”

  The commander’s cold, professional tone did not quite hide the displeasure in his voice. His demeanor was a perfect reflection of the attitude the other command rank officers had displayed during the journey. Upshaw was still enraged at the invasion of his personal privacy as well as the indignity of being exposed to the rumors and speculations of the whole ship. His anger had heated into something one step short of a volcano, and Jacob could sense it simmering every time they crossed paths.

  The others were not much more helpful. Captain Espinoza, while initially neutral toward Jacob, was now repeatedly finding excuses to avoid speaking with him, as if the stain of the situation would rub off on her. Commander Kenning said nothing in particular, but the social calls from the Navy’s next rising star abruptly ceased; Jacob occasionally stumbled upon him as he spoke quietly with knots of officers and cr
ewmen. He couldn’t help noticing that Kenning spoke the most with the crew members who felt disgruntled about the conflict. If they were on a regular merchant ship or a pirate vessel, he would have started to suspect a mutiny.

  As if he had read Jacob’s mind, Flint spoke again. “Sir, I must again tell you that I feel this investigation is having a disastrous effect on morale. We have no clear clues, and the speculation among the crew is causing severe disciplinary problems. I again recommend we put the situation to the side until we have more resources available to us.”

  Jacob gritted his teeth. Flint was right; while the Marines had cleared each of the four crewmen with the computer skills needed for the intrusion into Captain Upshaw’s quarters, the rest of the crew had debated and argued and accused for nearly a full day. The ship’s crew had quickly settled into a pattern of paranoia and combative behavior that left half a dozen disciplinary actions on Jacob’s desk before the end of the first day.

  Isaac’s gun crews were the hardest hit by the unrest. It was well known that he had a tendency to play pranks; several officers and enlisted personnel had already fallen victim to his sense of humor. While the investigators had turned up no evidence of foul play on Isaac’s computer and personal reader, there were already several rumors that Jacob had stepped in to cover up his friend’s involvement. Other rumors quickly sprang up that Isaac had been acting on orders to scout out Upshaw’s quarters for possible blackmail, while others whispered that Isaac had managed to hide the evidence and that a second search by the Marines might turn up something new.

  Of course, those who Isaac had already tormented on this cruise demanded a second search be made, only this time for evidence of the mischief he had caused them. Since Captain Hull was so considerate to investigate a case for Captain Upshaw, they argued, surely he would indulge them as well. Those suggestions, along with the rest of the rumors surrounding his Gunnery officer, had led to confrontations between the rumor-mongers and the members of Isaac’s gun crews. Isaac had managed to become very well admired among his own men, and there were occasional shouting matches and even fist fights over comments disparaging their lieutenant.

  The situation was made all the worse by the cold attitude that Isaac now displayed whenever they met. He no longer even addressed Jacob by his first name, only by rank and last name when the Gunnery officer was feeling eloquent, and a terse ‘sir’ when he wasn’t. It seemed as if all trace of his friendship with the man had been buried under a wall of resentment and shame that Jacob couldn’t figure out how to break through.

  Yet Jacob had a responsibility to see things through, no matter what it cost him. Besides, the only real hope he had of clearing Isaac’s name was to find the real culprit. “Your advice is noted, Commander Flint. The investigation will continue. Any possibility that the security of the border has been compromised must be tracked down.”

  Unsurprisingly, Flint did not seem convinced. “Sir, by all accounts the files were all from Captain Upshaw’s personal cache. There is no indication that any information on our deployments was even touched.”

  Jacob shook his head. “That doesn’t mean that we can let this incident slide, Commander.” He paused. “If we have not found the person responsible by the time we reach Badger, then we will reconsider things. Otherwise, we need to continue.”

  Flint said nothing for a long moment. Then he nodded, a sharp motion which revealed his frustration. “Yes, sir. Of course, sir. May I see to our resupply efforts, Captain Hull?”

  “Yes, Commander. Thank you.”

  Flint spun around and stomped through the doorway. Jacob stared at the closed door for a long while after his subordinate had left. He felt as if he had been running a marathon for a week straight. It was almost a relief to know that soon enough he would have something else to worry about.

  Even if that something was going to be the end of his career.

  The Celostian system of Ducennes was a very different place from Tiredel. More heavily settled than any of the frontier systems that the squadron had passed through, Ducennes was the location of the government for the Rhesium Seating. The system had a single habitable planet, with a climate and orbit very near to the conditions of man’s ancient home, long lost Earth. Settlements had grown up there over the years of the Union’s occupation, and nearly a billion people called the planet home.

  Not all the inhabitants of Ducennes had chosen to settle on that one chunk of rock and sky. At least twenty different space stations were located in the system, three of which belonged entirely to the Navy. Some orbited one of the gas giants in the system; others occupied the space above the planet. Still others, such as the outermost Naval outpost and the Rhesium dockyards, drifted free of any association with planets or other celestial objects. They drifted along their assigned orbits like orphaned stars, glinting in the dark.

  Between those installations and the various ships transiting the system, there was plenty for the sensors to sift through before they located Badger and her escorts. Jacob waited patiently until the Sensor officer pulled up an image of the flagship drifting with several other ships near Duke Station, the military base above Ducennes 3. The base was designed to act as a transfer and supply point for crews and ships visiting the capitol, and Jacob nodded approvingly at Nivrosky’s choice for a rendezvous. His squadron’s crews could likely be given a short liberty planetside as the destroyers made some more extensive repairs and their commanding officers dealt with their business. It was an efficient move, one typical of the High Admiral in many respects.

  Commander Flint gave the orders needed to put Terrier on a course with the Station, and Beagle followed suit. Jacob took the moment of quiet to admire the flotilla assembled over the Seating’s capitol world. The Celostian Navy did not often gather its ships in one place; given the many systems the Union required its military to police and protect, it was far more likely to see small squadrons or single craft in any one place. The rarity of such a gathering of firepower, and its proximity to the border, made Jacob wonder if the High Admiral intended to launch an expedition into Oduran space after all.

  There were at least fourteen different frigates and corvettes, organized loosely into several squadrons. Jacob recognized some of them as Arrowhead corvettes, small speedy ships meant to be system patrol craft, while others stood out as the newer Knife class of frigates. At least two Squire class frigates were present as well, which were likely Badger’s escorts. Another pair of destroyers glided nearby; they were the older Defender class models that the Wolfhound, Terrier and other sister models had been intended to replace.

  In addition to the smaller craft, seven cruisers hung in the space near Duke Station. Jacob raised his eyebrows and studied over their configurations. Five of the cruisers were the older Crown class ships, easily identifiable by the broad ring around the aft section of the ship. The sight of the standard Celostian combat cruisers flying in formation was impressive enough, but another two ships had the sloped, sleek shape of Knight class cruisers. They had heavier armor and better targeting control than their older counterparts, and Jacob had heard that a single Knight class easily counted for more in an engagement than two Crown class cruisers.

  The Badger was almost lost among the rest. A command and control ship, it was far less heavily armed and armored than the rest, with its main hull spread flat as if it were an irregular wafer. Sensor and communication platforms sprouted from the flat form like the tendrils of an inverted jellyfish, while the few actual railgun turrets looked almost forlorn in their isolation. The ship had two separate bridges, the command bridge having been set further back from the ship’s bridge to allow the orders from the fleet commander to avoid confusion and interruption. Jacob focused on that second bridge, as if he could see High Admiral Nivrosky there, waiting for him. He wondered, briefly, if Al-shira would be waiting at the dock as well. Then he shook his head and went back to observing the work of his bridge crew.

  He listened as the Ensign Dukoff responded to the quer
ies from the nearest defense station. There was no hitch in being identified as expected Navy units, and the squadron received the approval to continue on an in-system course. They would not be permitted to riftjump directly to their destination, since a bad jump might cause untold amounts of damage to either a civilian station in orbit around Ducennes 3 or the planet itself. The restriction meant that he would have another day to figure out what exactly he was doing here.

  Unless, of course, Admiral Nivrosky decided to spare him the wait. Jacob heard the Communications officer’s console chirp and looked over as the woman tapped a few controls. “We have a message from the Badger for you, Captain Hull. They indicated that it should be private information.”

  Jacob nodded. “Forward it to my office. Commander Flint, the bridge is yours.” Flint gave a weary sigh and took the command seat. Jacob shook his head. No matter what happened here, he doubted Flint would ever work well as his flag commander. Frustration clawed at him again. He made his way down the access ladder and then walked to his office. The computer on his desk was already blinking. Jacob sat down and activated it, expecting the High Admiral’s face to appear again.

  Instead, an entirely too familiar set of features appeared. Her dark hair was still shoulder length and hung loose around her face. Dark eyes flashed for a moment before she resumed a purely professional expression. “Commander Naomi Al-shira, CNS Badger, to the captain of Squadron 43, CNS Terrier. You are to proceed along the specified course and rendezvous with the flagship. Captains Upshaw, Espinoza and Hull are to proceed to a conference of officers aboard the flagship, along with Commanders Kenning and Nivrosky. Commander Flint will remain onboard the Terrier to exercise command over the squadron. Conduct no further gunnery, defense or other combat drills while en route. Commander Al-shira, out.”