Badger (13 page)

Disorientation swept over him, distracting him from his melodramatic thoughts. Jacob heard his reader chime, and rolled over to check the internal clock. The
Badger
had riftjumped right on time. They had finally arrived.

Pushing reluctantly away from his bed, Jacob sat up to work the controls on the small projection unit he had been provided. The miniature console whirred for a few minutes as it linked to the shipwide network. When the computer system had acknowledged his security clearance, the projection unit came to life, filling the air above it with a glowing hologram of the Reefhome system.

In some ways, the place seemed unchanged over the past two years. Shrouded by the shattered remnants of planets and moons, a large portion of Reefhome was made up of swirling bits of rock and drifting pockets of gas. Nestled in the center of the chaotic, shifting debris was Reefhome Station, the only habitable spot in the system. Plain in design, the space station was made up of a long cylinder intersecting the middle of a large, spinning disc. Its rough hull bore none of the wounds which Dianton’s pirates had given it during the last battle for control of the system, though a few broken fragments of the
Bloodthorne
remained clustered around the area where the pirate leader had died. Apparently someone thought they merited some sort of shrine, and based on the large amount of ejected waste floating nearby, it was frequently visited by passing spacers.

The rest of Dianton’s former fleet now moved around the system under Celostian control. A motley collection of corvettes and frigates, the Celostian Navy’s Central Command had taken one look at the disparate ships crewed by inexperienced if enthusiastic spacers and decided to leave them there as the Reefhome Defense Squadron. It had left the border system one of the heaviest guarded settlements with access to the Frontier, which had likely contributed to the growth that had followed.

Jacob’s old friend Miguel had been placed in command of the small band of ships. Last Jacob had heard, the veteran spacer had been giving the Navy headaches by proposing strikes against the nearest of the Telosian outposts. The Navy’s regional command’s recurring nightmare was to find that Reefhome had launched an assault all on its own and triggered another disaster like Rigannin.

For the moment, the entire squadron was present. In fact, every ship was drifting near the approved riftjump area, assembled in what looked suspiciously like a parade formation. The ‘flagship’ of the defense fleet, the frigate class ship
Defender
, had been set forward compared to the rest of the ships. A hint of worry crossed Jacob’s mind as he wondered how the people of Reefhome had found out about the fleet’s arrival, and what that knowledge would mean for the rest of the mission.

Jacob was still fretting over that problem when a knock sounded at his door. Startled, he shut down the projection and walked over to the door. Reaching for the handle, he paused as the memory of his eventful conversation with Commander Al-shira replayed in his mind. Then he shook his head and opened the door.

On the other side stood High Admiral Nivrosky and Commander Al-shira. A more unsettling pair of visitors Jacob could not have imagined. Al-shira’s eyes burned with the same furious resentment they always held, and her fists were clenched at her sides. Remembering the last greeting she’d given him, Jacob barely restrained a flinch before he saluted.

“Yes, sir?”

The High Admiral’s grey eyes glimmered with momentary good humor, but he settled back into his normal severe expression. Both officers returned his salute before Nivrosky spoke. “Captain Hull, we have a new assignment for you.”

Jacob blinked. “Yes, sir?”

Nivrosky’s lips twisted in the ghost of a smile. “The cover we have been using for the repairs is a victory tour to encourage recruitment. As part of that cover, we needed a…distraction…for the people of Reefhome to focus on. Otherwise some of them might guess our true purpose here.”

He felt his stomach sink with trepidation. “I would make a pretty good distraction for them, sir.”

Al-shira’s jaw tightened, and she looked more than ever as if she wanted to beat him senseless.

By contrast, Admiral Nivrosky nodded. “That was our thought as well. The ships will be docking in the Reefhome Dockyards for repairs, and we have planned out some publicity events you are to take part in.” He locked eyes with Jacob. “You are to divulge nothing regarding our next destination or the purpose of your visit here. To anybody. Am I clear, Captain Hull?”

Jacob wondered why Nivrosky would have made that point so emphatically, but he nodded. “Yes, sir. I understand the need to keep our plans secret.”

Some small portion of the tension on Nivrosky’s face lessened. “Good. I believe Commander Al-shira has a few messages for you from the Reefhome Defense Squadron.” A slight twitch accompanied that name, as if the very existence of the small flotilla was a headache for the head of the Navy. The Admiral continued in a mild voice. “I hope you find your stay here relatively pleasant, Captain Hull, and that you will be ready when the time comes to leave. Commander.” With a nod in Al-shira’s direction, Nivrosky departed down the corridor, his slight frame seeming to carry the burden of the entire fleet on his back.

For the first time Jacob wished the High Admiral had stayed. Reluctantly, he turned back to see Al-shira still glaring at him. “Commander Al-shira.”

“
Captain
.” She jerked her head toward the opposite end of the corridor. “If you would follow me, we have some work to do.”

Her voice had not lost a single ounce of venom. Jacob sighed. “Yes, commander. I suppose we do.”

“…And so we’ve been trying to get the Navy to commission a real flotilla to watch this area of space, or at least allow the Defense Squadron to patrol beyond the system, but they’ve been too worried about Reefhome to let us out of the station. Typical of the Navy, eh?”

The question startled Jacob out of his study of Reefhome Station. Admiral Nivrosky had requested he make a show out of his visit to the system, and a tour of the facilities had seemed like a good idea of how to do it. What he hadn’t counted on was the opportunity he offered to the local media and political leaders here in the system. Governor Richard Chilt, the civil leader of Reefhome, insisted on accompanying him on his trip through the Station, and joined him on the shuttle over to the Dockyards as well. For the most part the journey the governor was content to fill the air with his own chatter, but now he seemed to want Jacob more engaged in the conversation.

Desperate for a response, Jacob shot a quick glance at the rest of the Navy officers who had accompanied him. Leon sat, awkward and silent. Al-shira was as bad as she always had been, glaring at him from her seat. The other seats had been filled by an honor guard of Reefhome soldiers who seemed to alternate between a professional distance and a half-guarded admiration of their heroes. He turned back to the governor and tried to keep his voice neutral. “I’m sure the Navy has the best interests of Reefhome in mind, Governor.”

“Oh of course, of course. I only wish they would allow us the leeway to develop our resources and position more than they have. That’s all.” Chilt leaned back in his chair. “Though maybe if you were to utilize your influence in the military to suggest we be given further leeway?” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Jacob grunted. He could imagine the effect on the other officers if he dared make any such suggestions at this point. “I’m…not sure how much I could help with that, Governor Chilt. The Navy has enough on its mind without worrying about anything I have to say.”

Chilt sank back into his seat with a sigh. “Of course, Jacob, I understand. I just wish more of the officers of the Navy shared your view of the frontier, and the possibilities Reefhome could offer.” He shook his head sadly. Then his eyes fell on the pilot’s projection and he leaned forward, his face becoming animated again. “Well here we are, Jacob! The Dockyards of Reefhome. I hope our additions have impressed you.”

In fact, Jacob did feel quite impressed at the sight. The pirates had forced the people of Reefhome to construct a repair dock and work on their damaged ships, but the docks had been a crude, almost deliberately primitive affair. Though he had never been able to confirm it, Jacob always suspected the shoddy construction had been a secretive form of rebellion. Without any other way to retaliate against the Telosians, the spacers had resorted to making their work as sloppy and ugly as possible, as if hoping to passively encourage the pirates’ defeat.

Now, after the oppressors who had forced them to labor were dead or prisoners of the Celostian Navy, the spacers had converted the Dockyards into something shining and new. The narrow, cramped docks that could have only held a handful of corvettes or a pair of frigates had been expanded and modernized. There was room enough for a dreadnaught or two, though no ships of that size occupied its berths at the moment. It held the few ships nestled within its metal confines easily, and the activity crawling across the surface of the crafts made it look like a giant anthill.

Jacob expected the governor’s litany to continue, but the man was watching Jacob expectantly, probably waiting for some compliment on their work. Instead of speaking, Jacob ran his eyes over the yard, searching for something particular to comment on. One ship caught Jacob’s eye almost immediately. It was hidden back behind one of the other ships, a damaged cruiser, and no workers swarmed over it. Despite the inactivity, Jacob found his gaze returning to it more and more frequently as they drew closer. He frowned and focused his gaze on it at last. Recognition shot through his mind like a lightning bolt, and he nearly stood up out of his seat. “Is that—”

“It is!” The governor’s face split in a broad grin. “They were holding it in the Graveston yards, just waiting for the authorization to fix it up. Miguel saw it sitting there on one of his dispatch trips, and started asking questions. Turns out they needed the docking space and were willing to jump it over to us for storage while the Navy decided what to do with it.” Chilt’s smile lessened. “We still haven’t been authorized to fix it up yet, but we’re working on that too.”

The others in the cabin had leaned forward. Curiosity was slowly overwhelming the anger in Al-shira’s expression, and even Leon’s cold formality was lessening. Finally, he heard the High Admiral’s son speak up. “Jacob, what is it?”

“
Wolfhound
.”

The single word sent shock through the others, but Jacob remained focused on the form of his former ship. Unlike Reefhome Station, the destroyer still bore the marks of the pirates who had attacked it. Pits and holes left by railgun shells were side by side with the scars created by
Bloodthorne
’s plasma lance. The Navy had made some attempts to close her wounds and patch over the brutal beating she had taken, but the destroyer was obviously far from spaceworthy.

“I can’t believe it. How did you get her here? The Capistan and jump generator were ruined.” Jacob did not even try to hide the emotion in his voice. He reached out and brushed a finger along the edge of the hologram, as if he could reach out a hand and touch the hull itself.

Chilt waved the question away with one hand, dismissing the difficulties involved. “Miguel commandeered a jump transport from somewhere and brought her in himself. We brought
Feist
and
Setter
along with her, since they were letting them sit and gather dust as well.” Chilt pointed at another quiet area of the yards, where two more
Hunter
class destroyers were berthed. Both ships were just as savagely beaten, though most of
Feist
’s wounds had come from Oduran railguns during the defense of the border and
Setter
had taken its beating during the campaign against the Odurans at Erad. It was another unpleasant memory Jacob refused to let himself dwell on. Not when
Wolfhound
was so close.

He suddenly realized he had fallen silent, staring at the image of his former ship like a dazed, demented old man. Jacob shook himself, blinking away the moisture at the edges of his eyes, and glanced around at the others.

When he turned, the others were still apparently caught up in the sight of their old ship. The anger leeched out of Al-shira’s expression, and emotion wormed its way into even Leon’s formal mask. Jacob schooled his own face back to one of professional control before he looked back towards the governor. “Thank you, sir. It looks like she is in good hands.”

Chilt nodded, his expression still smugly satisfied. “You’re right she is. No penny-pinching Navy bureaucrat will get near her unless they get through me.” He looked back toward the projection, his own face starting to soften a little. “We owe that ship.
Wolfhound
gave us our freedom and our lives. How can we let her go to waste after that?”

There was a moment of silence, and then Governor Chilt shook himself. “Well, then! I guess Commander Miguel was right when he said you would enjoy the surprise. He’s waiting on the docks near the moorings for the ship, so the shuttle will set us down near there.”

The pilot obediently diverted the ship’s course to head for the nearest airlock. Jacob felt one last pang of longing as the image of
Wolfhound
grew larger; it was all too easy to imagine the shuttle would bring them to the half-ruined bay which had once held
Wolfhound
’s skiff. A moment later, the course altered enough that the illusion was shattered, but Jacob couldn’t help but stare as the hull of the
Wolfhound
slid by, still hanging there in space like the disembodied ghost of a friend.

Moments later the shuttle had sidled up to the airlock and docked. As the airtight seal was created, Governor Chilt unbuckled his restraints and led the way toward the hatch. Jacob followed, though for a long moment he lingered, still watching the projection, until duty and courtesy pulled him away. He supposed there would be time to ponder the changes in his life at a later time.