Eagle (Jacob Hull) (20 page)

Jacob watched the image disappear, clenching and unclenching his hands. Those last words might as well have come from Admiral Yeseti’s mouth. She was
there
, helping pull the strings on this little conspiracy, and he knew now they would meet in battle. Whatever Carmichael’s warnings, the separatists were itching for war—almost daring the Navy to attack—and that kind of bravado would lead to greater provocations until Jacob was forced to move in.

Of course, that didn’t even take into account what Carmichael had planned for the “traitors” he’d exiled. Al-Kesh had been correct after all. The San Marcos government was instituting a purge. His mind filled with the image of Tiredel, still swarming with Oathbound refugees. They would need another spot to house even more people, this time from San Marcos, and he doubted the Oathbound would have the resources or the room to share. Where was he going to send the people who would seek refuge on that frozen iceball?

Yet even as he pondered those words, Jacob saw his console light up again. He touched it, and Captain Martino spoke quickly. “Sir, we have another message from the same drone. It’s from Tiredel this time, and was apparently broadcast in response to Carmichael’s transmission. I’m sending it to you now.”

Jacob looked to his projection unit, and another figure appeared. It was a woman, one who stood with a highborn dignity no Celostian could have managed since Maxwell abdicated the Regal Seat. She was only a little older than Jacob, but her eyes spoke of more hardship and experience than anyone her age should know. When she spoke, her voice was soft, but unyielding.

“This is Paz Banks, leader of the Oathbound, to all ships and entities in Tiredel space. I am addressing the recent message sent by the San Marcos Collective.”

Jacob’s eyes widened. Paz was the oldest daughter of the former Oduran president. He’d heard she’d assumed leadership of the refugees following her father’s illness, but she’d never spoken like this before. Could this be the moment the former Odurans turned back to their old ways? He leaned in closer as she continued.

“The Oathbound were offered our place in Tiredel as a gift by the members of the Celostian Union, and it is a gift we have cherished. We offer, in turn, that same gift to all those who are in need. If there are any refugees—from San Marcos, the Oduran League, or elsewhere—who seek a place to live, our arms will be open to you. We will welcome you, and share with you our home.”

Then she paused, and determination flared in those eyes. “We hold to our Oath, to the end of our lives.
Paz Banks, out.”

With that simple phrase, the transmission ended. Jacob’s eyes widened. Carmichael already disliked the Oduran refugees, out of either political calculation or paranoia. How would he react to the Oathbound once they started harboring the political outcasts of San Marcos as well? It was going to be a nightmare, exactly the situation Al-Kesh had predicted. If San Marcos reacted before the Navy could secure the area…

Cursing himself for not acting sooner, Jacob looked at the nearby officers of the command center. “Lieutenant Alvarez, get in touch with the Communications Center. Tell them to prepare a messenger drone immediately for transit to Celostia. We have a few things the High Seat needs to hear. Lieutenant Urschel, notify Captain Martino and the rest of our task force that we are leaving New Vermont as soon as possible. Our destination will be Tiredel.”

Both officers bent to their tasks immediately, and Jacob looked back to the projector. He worked the controls to display both Carmichael and Paz Banks side by side. For a long moment, he studied them, trying to work out in his mind what he was seeing. On the one hand was a pacifist refugee, on the other, a power hungry tyrant. Which would history judge the fool for their words today? More importantly, which would live to write that history?

He tried to ignore the grim question as he started to give the orders that would prepare his fleet for departure, but it lingered in his mind long after the chaos had begun.

Chapter Nineteen

The
Eagle
made the riftjump to Tiredel, and Jacob cursed under his breath.

He was already in the command center, watching the projection unit display the situation throughout the rest of the system. Tiredel was moving through its slow orbit, still surrounded by a host of Oathbound ships. En route to the planet was another cluster of craft, made up of a batch of newcomers the indentification systems tagged as unknown.

Jacob worked the controls to focus in on those ships. They looked like leftover colony ships, so ancient they were barely spaceworthy. Despite their age, the ships had to be nearly the size of a dreadnaught, and had been built with massive numbers of inhabitants in mind. Several thousands of people could easily have fit aboard each of them with room to spare. If the Collective had been efficient about packing people in up to the airlocks, there could be many more.

Trailing those fragile ships was another flotilla of craft. These ships had started life as merchant craft, but they had undergone extensive modification. Each had several visible missile launchers set into their hulls, and quite a bit of effort had gone into refitting the ships with armor. There were nearly a dozen of the craft, and as Jacob watched, another dozen riftjumped into the system.

He pointed at the armed merchantmen. “Lieutenant Boggs, get me an analysis of those ships. I want to know everything there is to know about their capabilities, their crews, and anything else you can think of. Lieutenant Duvreau, contact the rest of the fleet and get us moving toward those refugees, immediately. All destroyers should move in first to protect the refugees from missile fire.”

The officers bent to their tasks, and soon details were flooding the projection. At the same time, the wireframe models representing the eight destroyers that had escorted the
Eagle
to Tiredel leaped out ahead of the fleet to rush to the aid of the civilians. Satisfied, Jacob turned to another of his officers. “Lieutenant Urschel, do we have any intercepted communications from the Collective ships?”

“Yes, Sir.”
The officer tapped away at her console for a few minutes. “They have been alternating between threatening the refugees and threatening the Oathbound on the planet. Apparently the refugees were forbidden to riftjump anywhere in the Union, especially Tiredel. They were supposed to have been exiled into the Frontier, but they came here instead and aren’t listening to the San Marcos ships. Since they aren’t listening, the separatists have started to demand the people on Tiredel to refuse to give aid to the refugees, but the Oathbound have been ignoring the demands. However, they may…” Her voice trailed off, and then she looked up sharply. “Sir, there’s a new transmission from the armed ships. You should see this yourself, Sir.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant.” Jacob waited impatiently until his personal projection unit activated. He blinked in surprise when Joseph Carmichael himself appeared in the image.

The self-appointed Governor of the San Marcos Collective had taken on some military airs since his last transmission. His fine business suit and tie had been replaced with a green and brown military uniform, complete with a set of rank badges on his chest. He retained the same sly expression and cultured features as before, however, and the contempt in his tone set Jacob’s teeth on edge.

“This is Governor Carmichael, aboard the
SMS Griffon
. I speak as a representative of the independent people of San Marcos, and bring a word of warning to the people of the Celostian Union—especially those who inhabit the world of Tiredel.” Anger filled Carmichael’s expression. “You have seen fit to give comfort to those who are our enemies. In doing so, you have shown yourselves to be equally as contemptible and underhanded as they are. Your continued presence in this system has been tolerated only by our goodwill, and by giving sanctuary to the traitors we have cast out, you have betrayed our charitable behavior. We do not intend to allow this support of our enemies to continue. You are to either turn away the refugees who approach your world and send away those you have already given shelter, or we will begin a campaign against you that will bring about your extinction.

“You have been warned—and I urge you not to test our patience further. Governor Wes
Carmichael, honored of San Marcos, out.”

Jacob watched the image disappear, feeling anger burn inside him. He hit the controls to contact the bridge. “Captain, did you hear all of that?”

Martino answered smoothly. “Yes, Sir. The signal was on a broad beam; the entire system heard it.”

“Order our squadrons to speed up; I want them to have a Navy task force to worry about, sooner rather than later.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Jacob turned his attention back to the projection and growled. The separatists were far closer to their targets than his forces. He was forced to watch as the armed ships moved in, closing the distance as the refugees ran for the relative safety of the planet. Then the refugee formation shifted, and Jacob sat up straight. “What are those Oathbound ships doing?”

No one spoke up, but they didn’t need to. Several of the Oathbound ships broke away from the orbit around Tiredel and shot out toward the refugee ships. There hadn’t been many of them at first, but more and more of them started to move toward the ancient colony ships. One ship, which had been much further out to begin with, had nearly reached the refugee craft and seemed to intend to join their formation. Why a bunch of unarmed ships would try to run straight into a combat zone was beyond Jaocb, but he knew one thing for sure. It wasn’t going to help the situation.

He looked at Lieutenant Urschel. “Contact the people in charge of those Oathbound craft. I want them out of there; we already might have enough casualties if
those idiots open fire on their own people. If you can, put me in touch with the ship that’s already in the middle of that mess.”

The officer nodded, and her fingers flew as she worked. A moment later, a light glowed on Jacob’s console, and he pressed it to open the channel. “This is High Admiral Jacob Hull. Who am I talking to?”

“This is Ship Handler Tsokashi, of the Oathbound vessel
Fresh Hope
. I do believe we’ve met.”

Jacob leaned forward, temporarily stunned. He remembered the old Oduran ship captain, and it was hard to reconcile the battered image of the former Oduran officer with the reckless disregard the freighter was showing for its own survival.
“Tsokashi? What are you—never mind. You need to get your ship out of there now.”

“I am sorry to disappoint you, High Admiral.” Tsokashi’s voice was utterly and completely calm. “I cannot agree. The refugees are still in need of an escort.”

“Your ship isn’t going to do much good in that respect, Ship Handler.” Jacob watched the San Marcos ships continue to accelerate. “Unless you’ve managed to hide away a few weapons where I couldn’t see them?”

“Negative, High Admiral.”
Tsokashi’s tone was solemn. “We hold to the Oath. You should know that.”

The words held a mild rebuke, but Jacob clenched his fists and continued. The former Oduran had to see sense before time ran out. “Ship Handler, the separatists are not joking. They could open fire any minute, and if they do, there is a very good chance your ship will be targeted and destroyed. If you do not change your course to avoid the situation out there, I cannot be responsible for your safety.”

“Nor would we ask you to feel such responsibility, High Admiral, though we do appreciate your concern.” Tsokashi’s words held the firm resolve of a man used to braving enemy fire. There was no hint of reluctance or hesitation. “Nevertheless, we will continue to escort our new brethren until they reach the safety of the planet. May your journey be pleasant.”

With that farewell, the Oduran terminated the connection. Jacob let out a string of curses that raised a few eyebrows among his staff. Carmichael’s ships were nearly within missile range now, with the destroyers clawing to intercept them. He felt the tension of the room skyrocket as Urschel spoke up again. “Sir, we have a transmission from the planet.”

Dread shot through Jacob. “Let me hear it.” The lieutenant touched a control, and as Jacob had feared, the calm, unruffled tones of Paz Banks came through the speakers.

“This is Paz Banks, leader of the Oathbound. We acknowledge the transmission of Governor Carmichael, and extend to him every assurance we do not mean him or his
people any harm. We are a people of peace; none of our ships are armed, and we do not permit any among us to carry weapons, so long as they enjoy our hospitality.”

“We welcome you to our new home, and promise to extend you every courtesy. It is our policy to do so with all who need our help—and we have not, and will never, see fit to change that policy. Those you have cast out from your world are in great need of care, and we will provide them our help and our home for as long as they need. They may leave when they choose, and we will wish them well.
Paz Banks, out.”

A few of the officers looked at Jacob, their eyes wide, and he tried to reign in his feelings. He wished that message would have calmed the situation, but he suspected Carmichael was not going to be turned away by a few well-placed turns of phrase. His eyes went to the timer marking when the San Marcos ships would be in missile range, and his breath caught when it hit zero.

Yet no volley of missiles sprayed out for the refugee ship. Carmichael’s squadron continued to close, but they were holding their fire for the moment. Just beyond the refugee craft, Tsokashi’s vessel began a broad turn meant to bring it around on one side of the fleeing refugees. Jacob wondered, for an instant, if Tsokashi meant to evacuate some of the the refugees onto his own ship, then discarded the notion. A docking operation in these conditions would only invite a disaster if the San Marcos ships decided to open fire.

A moment later, a signal from the
Griffon
, Carmichael’s ship, reached the
Eagle
, and Jacob blinked as another full image transmission appeared. “This is Governor Joseph Carmichael. I do not believe your professed pacifism, nor am I taken in by your malicious schemes. You pretend to be neutral and unarmed, yet you give aid to those who hate us and supply those who would oppress us. You preach all manner of lies about your intentions and are surprised when we do not believe you. Your continued defiance even proves you liars, fools, or both; if you had no hidden plots, no secret weapons, why would you try to resist our demands?

“You seek to undermine everything we stand for, and I will not allow you to continue your plans. Either you turn away your newfound friends and cease your treachery, or the penalty for your actions will be severe. If you do not heed my words and obey, then we will kill you to the last man, woman, and child. Your so-called homes will burn until there is no place left for you to harbor traitors or threaten us with your schemes. Governor
Carmichael, honored of San Marcos, out.”

Tension filled the room as the officers gave up all pretense of performing their duties. Every gaze was locked on the display. It showed the San Marcos ships closing the distance to Tsokashi’s ship and the refugees around it. The destroyers were nearly there, and Jacob felt his heart beating fast as he began to hope the delay might allow the refugees to reach safety after all.

Then another transmission came in, and the officer put it onto the speakers the moment Jacob looked in his direction. Paz Banks’ voice showed no sign of intimidation; she seemed as determined as she always had, though Jacob’s heart ached to hear it.

“We will not stop our efforts to relieve the suffering of these refugees. You have heard our welcome and our pledge to do no harm. If you do not believe us, then there is nothing we can do about it. I invite you to test us, to visit us. See for yourself, with your own eyes, if we are lying or not. There is no threat to San Marcos or her people
here, and there are no secret plots against you.”

Steel filled her voice, and Jacob felt his spine stiffen when he heard her next words.

“Do not mistake our peaceful intent for weakness. We have faced more dangerous things than you, and we are willing to die for our beliefs. Your threats cause no fear in us, and though it cost every one of our lives, we will hold to our Oath. Paz Banks, out.”

The refugee ships and Tsokashi’s vessel had nearly reached the safety of the destroyers when Carmichael’s response came. It was once again a full-image transmission, and Carmichael’s face darkened in fury as he bit out his words. “Your stubbornness will do you no good against our strength. Perhaps a taste of the cost for your pride will turn you from your course. Be grateful I choose to spare your misguided followers, and witness this demonstration of what the future may hold for you and your people if you do not yield.
Governer Carmichael, out.”

“Missile launch!
Multiple tracks!” Lieutenant Urschel’s voice was strained as a flurry of specks representing projectiles sprayed from Carmichael’s ship. All of them curved toward one of the largest of the fleeing refugee craft, coming in at angles that would take them past where Tsokashi’s ship was still completing its turn. Jacob glanced at the computer’s estimate and felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. There were too many coming in too fast. Even if the destroyers launched countermeasures, even if the ancient colony ship managed to dodge one or two of the attacks, the remaining missiles would still destroy the ship.