Fourth Vector Ch. 20

Jack touched the man's shoulder lightly. "Aedan, you can't blame yourself for this."

"Why can't I? It's all my fault!"

"What you did, you did for the love of your people," argued Jack. "Only a king willing to look outside the box would even think of aligning themselves with an old foe. I get why you decided to give them a chance, but they weren't worthy of that chance. Any other people might've made your gamble into a sure bet, but the more I see of the Swabians, the less I think of them."

"The people won't see it that way," said Aedan. "Once they find out about the origin of the plague, they will call for me to abdicate. I've failed them."

"The only way you can fail them is to give up now. There's no such thing as a perfect leader, Aedan. I've made enough mistakes just leading this task force that I should've been recalled to Java by now. Yet here I am. Leadership is not about the mistakes that you make. It's how you respond to them."

"And how am I to respond to this? How am I to lead them past this without losing their faith completely?"

"In the past couple months, every Picard family has experienced loss. Even you almost lost your wife and your son. Use that experience to further bond yourself to your people. Picardy has struggled, but Picardy has survived. Even though the city is secure, there will be many fights on the struggle ahead. Let your care and your love for your people lead the way."

Aedan nodded as a tear fell down his cheek. "I never thought I'd see the day when the King of Andalucia was lecturing me on how to be a better king."

Jack chuckled, remembering his true identity. "Speaking of that, there's something we need to talk about. I think it's time you took a look at my sword."

Aedan gave him a confused look. "What sword?"

*****

About a half hour later, Jack sat across from the stunned King of Picardy as the man looked at him with disbelieving eyes.

"All this time, you've been alive. The line isn't broken after all," muttered Aedan before locking eyes with him. "The Galician King lives."

"It hasn't been easy for me to accept," said Jack finally. "In fact, it's been one of the hardest things to accept in my life."

"I can see why. You have a big choice in front of you one day. I wouldn't want to be in your shoes," said Aedan as a knock sounded at the door.

"I'm betting that's Admiral Romero," said Jack as he looked back at the door. Sure enough, the portly Carinthian admiral was admitted into the study a moment later.

"So this is the man who led Reina's forces?" asked Aedan, sizing up the admiral with one long look.

Romero chuckled. "Aye, that's me. Admiral Carlos Romero at your service, Your Majesty."

"And how are you finding your accommodations on the fairgrounds?"

"The men have no complaints, and for that I'm very thankful," said Romero with a grin. He moved to sit beside the other two, although his frame took up more of his chair than the others. "My queen also sends her regards. Once she found out about the victory over the Swabians, she was able to catch a ship here."

Aedan blinked. "Reina is coming here?"

Romero nodded. "Yes, she hopes to meet with you. Especially now the old alliance has been firmly reestablished."

"That it has," said Aedan before looking back over to Jack. "And with new surprises as well."

Jack didn't respond, knowing full well what the king meant by that statement. He turned to Romero. "When is Reina due in?"

"About four days from now."

"That's excellent. We'll put her up in the palace while she's here. I imagine we'll have much to discuss, the three of us," said Aedan, gesturing to Jack. "I also want to know more about those airflane things you got."

Jack started to laugh. "I think you mean airplane. They were instrumental with taking down the sea fortress at the head of the bay. Sorry about that, by the way."

"You killed more Swabians than you did Picards," said Aedan with a dismissive wave. "At least fortifications can be rebuilt. But I'd love to get my hands on one of these flying contraptions. Do you think Reina would be willing to share the technology?"

"Between allies?" asked Romero. "Of course. We should use any advantage over the Swabians that we can."

"Although there's no doubt that they know such a thing was possible though," added Jack. "They know we figured out the secret of flight. They won't rest without trying to do so on their own too."

"Then we'll just have to be ready for them when they do," said Romero firmly.

The three men continued to discuss matters related to the recent battle as well as the political situation for the next half hour. It continued until Romero brought up the topic of the Swabian warehouse.

"By the way, my men have located the Swabian warehouse that seems to be the source of all the problems here," said Romero, changing the subject away from the ruined palace wing. "Your man gave us an excellent description of it, Jack."

"I would hope so," said Jack. "The man that found the warehouse is still struggling for his life right now because of the plague."

"My forces have ringed it to prevent anyone going in or out," said Romero. "But truthfully, they are a bit hesitant to have them search the warehouse without any kind of bodily protection."

"They have a right to be unsure," said Jack. "But I'm sure we can rummage up some full body suits from Aedan, right?"

"Most certainly," said the king. "Just say the word, and we'll get them to however many men you need."

"Probably about two hundred, just to be on the safe side," said Romero.

"Consider it done. I'd much like to see the source of all the trouble myself," said Aedan. "And then we need to decide what is to be done with such tainted goods."

"I have a rather good idea on that," said Jack. "One that will solve that problem forever."

*****

About a half day later, Jack, Aedan, and Admiral Romero watched as a ring of Carinthian soldiers cordoned off the Swabian warehouse while wearing full protective suits. Luckily for the Swabians, they had the good sense to not be caught with the evidence, and for that reason, the warehouse was deserted. Inside were next to fifty crates of the tainted goods, hidden behind the partition that blocked off access to anyone at the front of the building.

"Load up the Swabian ship still out at the port," said Jack to the soldiers in the warehouse. "Put the tainted goods back on the ship."

One by one, each crate was pulled out of the warehouse and trucked back to the ship, where the port crane was used to load it back on the Swabian vessel. Little care was given to how they were stacked, only that they fit securely below the deck and locked in the main hold. Once all fifty were loaded up on the deserted vessel, Aedan commanded a skeleton crew of Picard sailors to man her out to the deepest part of the bay.

The Swabian vessel wasn't alone. Jack followed along with theDestiny and while Admiral Romero followed in one of the Carinthian battleships. Once the Swabian vessel had reached the appropriate spot, launch boats from theDestiny picked up the skeleton crew and brought them back to the cruiser.

It was then that the firing started. Both warships opened up their main batteries against the Swabian trading ship, quickly pulverizing her hull with a series of punishing shots. There seemed to be no end to the ordnance expended to take her to the bottom of the bay. Jack wasn't sure which one of them had the killing shot, but the Swabian vessel soon listed hard to port before finally capsizing and sinking not much more then forty minutes later.

"Now you'll never have to worry about those goods again," said Jack to Aedan, watching from the bridge. "They're buried underwater forever."

"I can't think of a more fitting sendoff for such a dastardly deed," said Aedan with a grim smile. "Now that she's gone, we can focus on moving forward instead of being stuck in the past."

Jack chuckled. "I couldn't have said it better myself."

*****

Emperor Charles IX of Java moved through the imperial palace with purpose. There weren't many times when the ruler of the Javan Empire moved with such strong strides, but today was one of them. He'd just gotten word that his son had been brought back to the palace, and Charles was eager to see him after the debacle of the invasion.

Invasion.

That word still managed to raise his heart rate and trigger his anger. Two of his divisions lay shattered, his transport fleet was nearly destroyed, and his own personal prestige had suffered immensely.

It had almost cost him his son and heir as well, and that was one of the reasons he rushed with such speed to see George.

He entered his son's personal quarters, finding the mass of servants rushing to attend their master. They all gave way for the emperor as he made his way toward George's bedchamber, finding the prince sitting upright in the bed and being attended to by five separate physicians. They noticed him immediately.

"Your Imperial Majesty," squeaked one of the doctors. "We didn't expect to see you."

"I need to see my son," replied Charles as he grabbed a stout and sturdy chair to sit in. After all, his son hadn't inherited his bulky frame from his mother. "Please leave us alone until I call for you."

The physicians all bowed their acknowledgment and left the room shortly after, leaving father and son alone. Charles took the moment to look over the crown prince. For the most part, he looked no worse for wear. He'd probably never seen that level of exertion before, having to swim for his very life in the channel, but he wasn't wounded or struck by bullets. Without knowing what happened, it would be very hard to tell what all the fuss was about.

"Father," said George with a bowed head. "Thank you for coming."

"Are you well, my son?" asked Charles.

"I'm recovering," said George with a labored breath. "I daresay this past experience didn't go how I would've liked it to go. I thought by this point, I'd be leading our forces into Montauban."

"As did I," said the emperor with a commiserating tone. "I think we all hoped for a better outcome."

"Tell me about the soldiers, father. How are they? I heard word of terrible casualties but I didn't know what to believe."

Charles let out a long sigh. "Don't worry about that for right now. I want you focused on recovering. I will deal with the losses in men and material, but I want you to put it out of your mind."

"Will we organize another invasion?" asked George. "Surely we can't let this be the final straw?"

Charles put his hands up. "In due time, I imagine. There are other things of importance right now. This invasion has shown me a lot of troubled results and realities that I haven't fully come to terms with. Most importantly, I'm talking about the strength of the Occitanian fleet."

"I don't think anyone expected them to hit the channel when they did," said George while shaking his head. "The timing of all of it was almost too good. One moment, we're heading toward the beaches with no opposition in sight. The next, there's a hail of naval artillery. I don't understand how they were able to get to the transports."

"The information that is being passed to me now is leading me to believe it wasn't a coincidence," said Charles with an angry look. "It seems they were allowed to be in that position. Before you ask, proof and evidence of that accusation have been given to me. It seems one of our admirals has betrayed their own people."

George's fat nostrils flared. "Bancroft," he growled. "I knew that man couldn't be trusted. I'll kill him myself—"

Charles shook his head. "Not Bancroft. Henrik. Henrik was the traitor."

The crown prince made a shocked face. "Henrik? No! That can't be. I would've sworn it was Bancroft behind all of it."

"Bancroft was the one that discovered his treason. Really, son, I know you dislike the man, but don't let your personal sympathies cloud your judgment of his abilities."

George made a sour face. "It's not his abilities that I question. Only his loyalties. Something is not right about that one, father. I can feel it."

"Do you have proof of the matter?"

The crown prince shook his head. "Of course not, or I would have passed it to you. It's just a . . . feeling. A nagging suspicion. The man is too uptight for his own good."

"Well, surely your teasing of him doesn't make it any easier on yourself," said Charles. "You know his personality. Do you think parading your rather exotic tastes in front of him will make things any better?"

"It might make him lighten up eventually," muttered George.

"Wrong, it's just going to piss him off further," replied Charles. "But regardless, Bancroft has passed along this information on Henrik."

"What's happened to Henrik?"

"He's been apprehended as soon as he stepped ashore," said Charles. "He'll be dealt with eventually."

"I should like to be there when you do," said George with a grim stare.

"Oh, you will be. I intend to make it as public as can be. As a warning to others, and maybe even a few other leaders within our command. A warning as to what happens to those who let down their emperor. To those who would seek to betray their own country."

"Like a certain other admiral we know," said George with a leer.

"Perhaps," said Charles.

"Is there no one else that we have to lead the Admiralty in these times?" asked George. "Even if Bancroft is competent, his personality leaves much to be desired. Plus it's awfully convenient for him that Henrik is a traitor."

"What are you suggesting, son?"

"That we pay closer attention to the man moving forward," said George as he reclined in bed. "You can't deny the fact that it is convenient for Bancroft."

"I would if I were inclined to think there's more to the story than what I already know," replied Charles with a raised eyebrow.

"And can we replace him? Put someone else in charge? Perhaps someone like Harvey Kuntz?"

Charles shook his head. "Kuntz is far too concerned with being clever than he is with fighting. He's an intelligent man, but he lets it go to his head. No, Bancroft will have to stay in his position. He has the most ability and experience. If we weren't at war, it might be one thing, but with no peace in sight with the Occitanians as well as the Ruthenians starting to be hostile, we need him now more than ever."

"Ever despite the fact that he can be insolent?"

"Yes, my son. He's still too valuable despite his attitude. An officer of Bancroft's quality comes around once in a generation. I intend to use him for his purpose by helping me win this war."

George let out a long breath. "If you wish then. I still think there's more to the story than what we heard. I do intend to question Bancroft about it when the time comes."

"Question him, but do not accuse without proof," chided Charles.

"I won't, father. I just hope this doesn't bite us in the end," said George finally.

"I'll see to it that it doesn't. He still needs us just as much as we need him. That doesn't mean that he can't be held accountable, however this whole venture has revealed one fatal weakness that we can't just ignore. The blockade."

"Over Aberdeen," finished George.

The emperor nodded. "We can no longer let our ships languish there. Perhaps there would've been a different outcome to the invasion if we had more ships to protect the transports."

"Or there could've been more Occitanian ships to intercept them," suggested George. "If we allow their blockading ships freedom of movement, it could mean more of a presence for them. Or even more attacks."

"We need to get our ships out of port. I see that now finally, and unfortunately, it took the loss of two divisions to make that apparent," said Charles with regret. "I'm going to give the order to Bancroft to free the fleet by any means necessary. Only then will I decide to chance an invasion of Occitania again."

"What happens if we free the fleet but then all of our ships get sunk in the meantime?" asked the crown prince. "Then we'll be worse off than we are now."

"Either way, the fleet is doing no good rotting away in port," said Charles. "I just keep going back to that day, wondering if a few extra ships could've made the difference. I think it might have, son. And I don't want to make the same mistake twice."

George let out a long sigh. "Very well, father. I suppose we can wait for the invasion until we've sunk a few of their battleships."

"Try not to look so glum, George," lectured Charles. "There will be a time for glory still. For now, just focus on your recovery, and when you're feeling able, come see me. We'll have much to talk about with the rebuilding of a new force capable of taking the war into Occitania when the time is right."

"I will, father. For now though, I will attempt to get some sleep," said George, letting out an obnoxiously big yawn. "We will have our time for revenge soon though."

"Yes, we will," promised Charles.

As soon as father and son said their goodbyes, Charles padded his way back to his own residence wing. He was thankful that his son was all right in body even if his spirit was still a bit battered from the event. George would have the retribution that he sought soon enough while Charles dealt with the matters of cleaning up the aftereffects of the invasion.

But one point remained certainly clear now.

They could not reattempt another invasion without the rest of their fleet. Charles would no longer permit any chance of a repeat debacle. He wouldn't allow his own reputation to suffer, nor that of Java's.

As the emperor entered his own office, he set about the chain of events that would see the Javan fleet freed from its own captivity. He would see their great battleships in deep waters once again.

The Javan dragon would ride the waves unhindered once more.

*****

Close to two weeks after the invasion disaster, Bancroft was lucky enough to find himself back in Belfort with his head still firmly attached to his shoulders. It wasn't that he was able to escape the entire affair without punishment. The entire Admiralty had the stain of failure permanently attached to them for the invasion mess, including multiple inquiries over the state of their naval preparedness, as well as deep investigations on whether any such travesty of action could ever occur again.

Bancroft felt more surveillance than ever as he returned to the imperial palace, his every move and order being watched. For him, he was used to the nerves of being scrutinized, but he worried the most about Clark, whose conscience was still eating him about his part in the plot. Even though Bancroft had seen to it that Clark escaped any retribution, the man wasn't the same after seeing his boss's outright betrayal. Their conversations were reduced, and where there used to be some level of genuine affinity, Bancroft saw it degrade to a purely professional relationship only.

He shouldn't have been surprised at the result. In fact, he was more impressed with Clark staying quiet about the whole affair, despite knowing that one word from him could upset the entire cart. But it could also throw into question Clark's integrity, and further still, his level of involvement.

No, the man is right to be quiet. He can hate me for as long as he likes until his conscience is settled, thought Bancroft as he strode into the arena.

Today's task would not be a happy matter. It was only with feigned reluctance that Bancroft accepted the emperor's invitation to the stadium today, knowing the nature of the spectacle they would witness. Yet he considered it a victory in itself that he was there to witness it, not to partake.

As he climbed the main staircase to the emperor's box, Bancroft nodded to the various officials, dignitaries, nobles, and servants who made up the emperor's entourage. Many of them were using umbrellas, shielding themselves from the rain that had been falling all morning. In a way, it made sense why the skies seemed so angry and overcast this day. If it wasn't for all the fallen Javan sons, then it might have been the anger at the betrayal of country that set the tone for the entire city.