Eagle (Jacob Hull) (24 page)

“They must have activated her before we hit Kryshaen, then.” Jacob brought up the image of the Oduran fleet again. “Are all of those cruisers real too? They can’t have sent that much of their strength for this assault.”

“It looks like they have.” There was more tapping in the background, and then Al-shira sighed. “We have at least five fakes in the bunch, and I don’t doubt there are a few more, but most of those cruisers are real enough. I’d say thirty Oduran cruisers and near to fifty San Marcos freighters to back them up.”

Jacob groaned. “Do you think they were kind enough to limit themselves to just the Tiredel system as a broadcast?”

“No.” Al-shira’s voice was grim. “Every system in riftjump range of San Marcos probably got their own drone, just to make sure the message gets across. This is going to cause a lot of panic, Jacob.”

“You’re not kidding about that.” Jacob could almost imagine the furor once the news made its way to Celostia. “All right, we’re going to need to hit back in a way that blunts their effectiveness. Are you still tracking a lot of their intelligence activity?”

Al-shira nodded, and Jacob smiled. “I want you to hit them. Hard. Round up everyone you know about and put them in detainment facilities we control.”

The order was not received with the enthusiasm Jacob had expected. “Jacob, if we do that they may begin to suspect some of the intelligence they’ve received about our strength in the region. We still want them to attack here, right?” When Jacob nodded, she continued in an even voice. “I say we sweep up their operations on the civilian side; the saboteurs, guerrilla cells, and even their contacts in the refugee camps. We want an effective blackout on all of their communications on that side of things, while we leave the contacts in the military.”

Jacob thought about what his own reaction would have been to that kind of attack on his intelligence sources. “That would make them think whatever information they’ve been getting through the civilians might have been compromised, but not the data they got through our intentional efforts to deceive them.” He smiled. “You
are
devious, Captain Al-shira.”

“It gets better, Jacob.” Al-shira smiled. “Not only will that put a stop to the attacks dirtside, but by sweeping up the majority of their agents we put pressure on them. They’ll start to worry we are about to figure out the rest of their network, and they’ll want to move
before  happens. It might push them into attacking before they’re ready.”

“Good. Every advantage we can get will be crucial this time.” Jacob flicked the image back to the Oduran task force. “They slipped right by our patrols in the Frontier. I wonder how they managed
that?”

Al-shira made a dismissive gesture. “Yeseti had probably warned them about which routes they would have to use. We might as well keep some of the militia on patrol in case the Odurans try to slip even more ships into San Marcos—as if they would realistically need them, at this point. At the very least, the militia patrols will force the main task force to move around using the back routes to try and avoid being intercepted.  That should slow them down when they try to move out.” Then she winced. “That is, if the High Admiral agrees, Sir.”

Jacob smiled. “No, you’re right. The militia earned our trust. Besides, I have noticed a large decrease in Telosian pirate raids since we started this program. Perhaps the patrols serve as a deterrent?” He shook his head at his own distraction. “In any case, I intend to put some of my ships along those lesser known routes, just so we know if they start to move. A few scouts to take a look at the fleet itself wouldn’t hurt either, though that might be risky. No matter what happens, we need a better picture of what they have over there. Would that compromise anything on your end, Captain Al-shira?”

Al-shira hesitated. “No, Sir. They should read a few scouts as a sign of nervousness. They are probably fairly confident at the moment, and they would probably read those scouts as a sign you are worried about the threat they pose.”

“Of course, no matter how overconfident they are, if they start scouting us back, or one of their spies gets a lucky break, we could find ourselves in serious trouble.” Jacob thought for a few moments. Then he raised an eyebrow at Al-shira. “Any ideas?”

She shrugged. “I would also suggest sending easily traceable, false messages to Leon and to Admiral Siddiqui recalling their ships to Tiredel, but on a time scale that would allow the Odurans to make their move first. If they know there isn’t just an opportunity, but one they might miss if they wait too long, the pressure might make them ignore their doubts about the situation. If we’re lucky, it might push them into falling for our trap without looking too hard at the bait.”

“Anything that gives them less time to detect Isaac’s force sounds good to me.” Jacob smiled. “I suppose it will give us the chance to test out our new codes at the very least.”

“I suppose it would, Sir.” Naomi seemed doubtful, but at the very least she had to know those codes were good. She’d brought them, after all.

Jacob banished the images of the enemy fleet with a stab of a button. “Is there anything else, Naomi?”

“If there were, I’d tell you, Ironsides.” Al-shira brought her hand up in a precise salute. “Things are coming together, Jacob. We’ll get through this. You’ll see.”

“I know.” Jacob returned the salute. “Take care, Naomi.” Then he touched the controls and the image shut off. As he went to arrange the schedule for the scouting missions, Jacob wondered how long he would have to wait before he could know if the Odurans were falling for the ruse. He supposed his first hint would be if their entire assault force came jumping into the system, but it wouldn’t hurt to find out a little sooner than that this time.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Shrill combat alarms woke Jacob out of a dead sleep. Bone deep reflexes propelled him out of his bed and staggering for his uniform before he even consciously knew what was going on. He paused long enough to claw at his communication stub and signal Captain Martino, even as he was struggling into his clothes. “Captain, what’s going on?”

Captain Martino’s reply was calm despite the lateness of the hour and the screaming of the alarm in the background. “Sir, one of our scouts reported the enemy task force was seen outside of San Marcos. Estimated arrival time puts them only half an hour behind the scout.”

“
Half an hour
?” Jacob swallowed a curse and tried to stay focused. “What happened? Did they leave behind their dreadnaughts?”

Martino’s voice revealed a fraction of the frustration the flag captain had to be feeling. “No, Sir. The scout had engineering problems. They were almost caught by enemy forces before they could repair their Capistan sufficiently to jump.”

“Of course they did.” Determined not to let the sheer unfairness of the situation distract him, Jacob finished pulling his uniform on and into some decent kind of order. He began the jog from his quarters to the command center with the channel to Martino still open. “Have we sent the signal to Isaac’s group yet?”

“The designated freighter has already jumped out to rendezvous with them, Sir. Captain Bellworth’s ships should be ready in plenty of time. Our message drone is ready for deployment as well.”

“Good.” Jacob had made sure to keep a Navy supply freighter hanging around for just such a reason. He hoped the Odurans wouldn’t notice how quickly the ship finished “taking on supplies” once news of the incoming Oduran fleet reached the system, or that they would assume it had just fled in panic. Either way, with the departure of the freighter, his trap was set. Now he just needed to bring the hammer down on one of the biggest enemy fleets the Celostian Navy had ever seen.

Jacob reached the command center in record time, even as the rest of the center’s staff was piling in with dazed expressions. “Keep me posted, Captain, and make sure the scout sends the information on the enemy fleet strength to my staff. Hull, out.”

As Jacob fell into his seat, he started to pull up the information from the scout’s transmission. Just as Martino had said, it looked like the entire strength of the enemy forces was present. All three dreadnaughts were cruising along at the center of a formation made up of over thirty Oduran cruisers, dozens of enormous modified Celostian merchant craft, destroyers and frigates, and even a scattering of Telosian raiders. It was the kind of armada that could scour worlds, crush fleets, and wipe away nations.

His heart beat fast while his officers got into their positions and the alert sirens fell silent. The murmur of conversation between the different staff members was subdued, and the air itself was filled with tension as the deadline to the arrival of the enemy fleet counted down. Jacob noted the members of his formation here in Tiredel were all in perfect formation; apparently their crews had been just as ready to respond to the alert as Martino’s had been. Then he turned to where the lone scout was still burning through space toward the safety of Tiredel, obviously hoping to get clear of the fighting before it started. He waited for the enemy to come.

And waited.

The deadline passed. A frown crossed Jacob’s face when the minutes ticked by and no more ships, Oduran, Celostian or otherwise, appeared on his screens. The murmurs among his officers grew concerned, then confused as the time continued to pass without any sightings at all. He glanced at the image of the enemy fleet, then back to his empty screens. What the hell was Yeseti up to now?

The long vigil stretched with the transmissions from the scout growing confused when the militia craft realized their pursuers were not arriving. The conversations around Jacob took on a sharper edge, and he made a decision. “Lieutenant Urschel. Signal the
Ibid
and order them to do a quick survey of the system the scout just came from. Just a quick in and out, no combat if possible.”

“Yes, Sir.”
The officer bent to her work, and then the Celostian corvette Jacob had assigned to the task zipped away from his formation. It vanished a short while later when it activated its riftjump generator.

Jacob
waited, dread congealing in his gut as he watched his screens, until the
Ibid
returned to the system with no apparent scars to show for her trouble. Lieutenant Urschel listened for a moment to the report, and then she turned to him. “Lieutenant?”

“Sir, the
Ibid
reports the the system is empty, sir.” Lieutenant Urschel looked completely at a loss. “The enemy is gone.”

“It’s been a full twenty hours since the last time we made contact with the enemy fleet.” Jacob looked around at the officers in crammed into his personal office. “Does anyone have any idea how to find them?”

Al-shira, who had caught one of the first shuttles up from the planet, shook her head. “Not without any clues as to where they are headed. Yeseti may have compromised our scouts, so they are going to stay off the main travel routes. None of their agents on Tiredel had any idea what Carmichael and Sessors were planning, either. Most of them are just a batch of thugs and troublemakers the San Marcos people decided to dump on us.”

Captain Martino frowned. “Perhaps it is all simply a ruse, sir. Are we sure they haven’t just jumped out to decoy us away from our positions here?”

“Why do we even care?” Isaac, who had been summoned from where his task force was hidden, folded his arms. “Wherever they’re going, they’ve left their planet wide open. Why don’t we hit San Marcos while they’re gone?”

Martino snorted. “And do what? Occupy it, while they march through our forces all along the rest of the border? Taking San Marcos won’t accomplish anything.”

“I disagree.” Isaac’s response was low and lethal. He gestured to the star map. “If we destroy their base, then the Collective as we know it won’t exist. Their fleet will be trapped here, where we can hunt them down later.”

Jacob felt a chill at the detachment in Isaac’s words. “I’m going to say this once, Isaac. I will not bombard an inhabited planet, enemy territory or not. We aren’t Odurans, and this is not Rigannin.”

“No, it isn’t. Rigannin didn’t get the chance to stab us all in the back.” Isaac pointed one unwavering finger at the star representing San Marcos. “Those people already have. They’ve made their choice. Let them live with it.”

“Whether they deserve such a punishment or not is beyond me, Captain.” Martino’s voice was steady. “But I would rather not trade atrocities with the enemy if we can avoid it. San Marcos is not worth so much to me I would exchange it for Erad, or New Manassas, or Tiredel. The Odurans are welcome to the lot of those traitors.”

“Well said, Captain Martino.” Jacob nodded, glad Martino had responded with such well-reasoned words. His own response would have been far less patient, and Al-shira’s horrified expression said all it needed to about her opinion of Isaac’s idea. “There will be no planetary bombardments while I am in command. Our goal is to stop the war, not murder a bunch of bystanders.”

“And to do that, we need to hit their leaders, not the civilians.” Al-shira glared at Isaac, angry. “Wiping out a bunch of innocents will not stop Sessors, Yeseti, and Carmichael. If they cared about those people, they would have stayed to defend them.”

Isaac grimaced. “So be it. The option needed to be discussed—but in the end, you’re right. We need the leaders if we mean to end this.” He looked at the star map projected to the side of Jacob’s desk. “So where could they be headed?”

“They have three probably targets. Erad, New Manassas, or here.” Jacob gestured at the map and kept his voice even. “If the Odurans are avoiding systems with our scouts, they will arrive in Erad within six days. If they go the same way to New Manassas, it will take them eight. We can reach Erad in three days, New Manassas in six.”

“But we can’t be everywhere at once.” Martino shook his head. “That fleet is large enough even the forces already at Erad might be overwhelmed.”

“And the forces at New Manassas have even less of a chance.” Jacob fixed his eyes on the map and pictured Leon trying to fight off the enemy armada with only half a dozen ships. He’d been ordered to hold at all costs. If the Odurans caught him there, alone, he was dead.

“Tiredel is just as vulnerable without us.” Al-shira sat back in her chair, obviously unhappy.

“Losing Tiredel would be tragic, but if the admirals are overwhelmed at Erad…” Captain Martino trailed off and briefly seemed a bit overwhelmed. He looked at Jacob. “Sir, where will we go?”

Before Jacob could find an answer, Isaac spoke. “We have two days. The High Admiral will find them.” He stood. “And when you do, Jacob, you can count on me. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll leave you to consider our options.” Isaac saluted sharply, and Jacob returned the gesture. Then Isaac strode out of the room, his expression still stone cold. Captain Martino left a moment later, giving Jacob a respectful salute as he departed.

Al-shira shivered and rubbed her arms with her hands. “Isaac still worries me, Jacob. The way he wanted to hit San Marcos…”

Jacob tried not to show his own uncertainty. “We’ll deal with it, when we have the chance.” He looked back toward the star map, and sighed. “They’re out there, Naomi, and I have no idea where they’ll strike. What are we going to do?”

For a long moment, they were both silent. Jacob continued to stare at the map, desperation welling up in him as he searched those specks of light for some clue. He thought it was likely the task force hadn’t tried to bait him out of Tiredel—something about the plan seemed just a bit too clever for his opponents. Yet Erad and New Manassas were both heavily fortified, as far as the enemy knew. Would they really risk taking losses there instead?

All of his options were painfully disastrous, and as they played out in his mind Jacob felt despair. How was he supposed to do what had to be done if he didn’t even know where the blow would fall? It was like he was fighting smoke, even when his enemies had finally nearly all come out into the open. He needed was a clue of some kind, and he had none.

Jacob shook himself from the reverie and turned to Al-shira. He gave her a sheepish smile. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to get moody again.”

His attempt at humor wrung a smile from her. “I think you’re excused for it—this time.” Her smile faded and she went back to studying the map. “I just wish there was some way to help you. There has to be something we’re missing.”

They fell into silence again, and then an idea suddenly came to Jacob. “The agents on Tiredel might be clueless, but could the refugees have any information? They were never meant to end up in our hands, after all.”

Al-shira raised an eyebrow. “You think they would have sent anyone
with  kind of access on those refugee ships? That would be sloppy, no matter where they’d planned on sending them.”

“It’s better than nothing.” Jacob gave her a grim smile. “Go back to Tiredel and find anyone with any information that could help. Send them to me the moment you find them.”

Al-shira frowned as she took in the difficulties of the assignment. She nodded reluctantly. “If there is something to find, I’ll find it.” She saluted. “Good luck, High Admiral.”

Jacob returned her salute. “You too, Captain.” He returned his attention to the projection and his smile faded. “We’ll need it.”

Two hours later, Jacob was still staring at his projection of the surrounding space. He had not made any decisions and still felt paralyzed by the possible disasters on all fronts. A knock at the door brought him back to his senses. Almost relieved at the chance to set the problem aside for a moment, Jacob looked to see who had intruded on him.

High Elder Roderick von Clarence looked back at him.

For a moment, Jacob just stared at the man. Then he sat back in his chair and snorted in resignation. Why wouldn’t von Clarence show up now? He pushed himself up out of his chair and motioned for the man to enter and take a seat. “Mr. von Clarence. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I believe we share an acquaintance, High Admiral.” Von Clarence gestured to the bulkhead. “Captain Al-shira asked that I come to discuss what information the San Marcos refugees might have about the enemy strategy.”

“Oh.” Feeling somewhat chagrined, Jacob motioned again to the seat.
“Thank you for coming then. I know you are all busy down there.”

Von Clarence nodded. “There are a lot of organizational necessities at the moment, but Mr. Al-Kesh assured me he would be able to handle things in my absence.” He smiled. “Not that he was entirely willing to allow me to come here on my own. We very nearly had an argument about whether or not Nathan should come to
baby-sit me, but fortunately, the Prince decided I was mature enough to be let out on my own.”

Jacob smiled. “I trust both of them are doing fine on their own as well.”

With a gesture, von Clarence dismissed the statement. “Not well enough I would leave them on their own to have an idle chat, High Admiral. Why have you called me here?”

The blunt question was typical, but Jacob pushed aside his reflexive resentment of it for a moment. He had, after all, invited the man here this time. It was reasonable to be polite. “I need your help, High Elder. We have a situation concerning the enemy fleet.”