Fourth Vector Ch. 43

Jack accepted Kat's words as they turned to go back to the Castle but a runner came to find him before they'd even left the harbor.

"Your Majesty, your presence is requested by Admiral Russell Taylor and Queen Abigail at once," informed the runner, still out of breath from his trek across the harbor.

Jack gave the runner an alarmed look. "Is everything all right? What's the meaning of the summons?"

"No danger, Your Majesty, but there's something they wanted to bring to your attention. It's in regards to your ship,Destiny."

That got Jack's attention immediately. He wanted to know any news, good or bad, about his flagship as soon as possible. He kissed Kat and John goodbye and flagged a car to take them back to the Castle while he walked with the runner across the harbor. Kalmar harbor was divided into two main sections—one divided exclusively for commercial vessels while the other was for the use of the Galician Navy.

On the naval side were various facilities designed to maintain and support his warships. Right in front of him were several dry docks, and most of them contained warships that were being repaired for damage sustained during the war.

One such dry dock contained the old battleshipCenturion as she was being refitted toward her new purpose. Jack watched as part of the old island on the ship was removed from the center of the ship and moved to the edge, allowing room on her main deck to allow it to launch and retrieve aircraft—a brainchild of Russ and Dustin from back in Dagobern.

Just past theCenturion was theDestiny, and it was here that he found Russ as well as his other queen. Abigail wasn't wearing any royal robes today. Instead, she was fitted in the uniform of a Galician commodore, and it was her authority that saw responsibility for theDestiny. Both of them were inspecting theDestiny's hull but they stopped to greet Jack when he arrived.

"You both made it sound like something serious was going on," said Jack after he kissed Abigail. "Is there some kind of problem?"

Russ was the first to speak. "It would appear so. TheDestiny here needs some serious repair work. She has multiple issues that need to be seen to urgently, and I can't recommend that she set sail until those issues are fixed."

Jack turned his attention to look at his flagship. "I knew there were some issues that we've run into over the years but I didn't think it was that bad. What did you find?"

"What didn't we find?" asked Russ. "You can tell this ship has been in near constant action for that entire time. I have exterior damage on the starboard aft hull as well as the port side too. I have evidence of mild flooding and there is equipment that will need repaired."

"From that action the first time we arrived in Daban," added Abigail, more for Jack's benefit.

Russ continued. "I'd recommend replacing the gun turrets on the forward section of the ship. I see these have been repaired once already but the work was, and no offense to anyone, shoddy."

"That would be from our time in Sorella," muttered Jack.

"In all, those are the major items. The rest of what I've found is cosmetic but it will take some time to repair her," said Russ.

"How much time do you need?" asked Jack, already thinking about the next campaign. He couldn't very well set out to confront his foe without his flagship.

Russ pursed his lips as his eyes rolled upwards. "Perhaps three months. That should about do it. The problem isn't so much the time needed to do the jobs but more so the labor to do them. Most of the ships in the fleet need some kind of repair work after the war and there's just not enough labor to go around to do all of it at once."

Three months without his flagship was a tough pill to swallow. Jack never considered going anywhere without theDestiny close by, and with the prospect of war on the horizon, there was no way he could leave it behind in Kalmar.

On the other hand though, it was unlikely that anything major would happen in the first three months anyway. As far as he knew, Bancroft's fleet was still on their side of the world. It would take them time to cross the ocean and even more time to traverse the West until they reached Galicia (if that was even their intent).

Jack could sacrifice three months to get a betterDestiny in the long run.

"I'll give you three months, Russ," said Jack. "But make sure she's a priority amongst the other ships. If that means work has to stop on another cruiser just to get theDestiny out quicker, so be it. I can't go to war without my trusty flagship."

Russ nodded his head. "We can make that happen, Jack. I'll keep you well-informed on the progress."

That was enough for Jack and they parted ways from the Galician admiral soon after. Abigail hooked her arm through his as they looked at the stern of theDestiny.

"I think we've been a little too hard on her," said Abigail. "You would think we didn't care about theDestiny from the damage she's sustained over the years."

"TheDestiny has had an active career ever since we arrived here," said Jack. "If you think about it, she's been in every engagement we've had. How many Swabian ships has she sunk? How many Occitanian? I've seen other ships scrapped after lesser careers."

Abigail gave him an alarmed look. "You're not seriously considering scrapping theDestiny, are you?"

Jack shook his head. "No way. If we can spend a few months repairing her, she'll be ready to sail again soon. Besides, we're going to need all the help we can get against Bancroft."

"I saw the arriving Apulian cruiser earlier," she noted. "How was their reaction about another war? I can already see the vein throbbing on Aedan's neck at just such a suggestion."

"I haven't told them yet," admitted Jack.

"You haven't?"

He shook his head. "I'd rather let them get settled into Kalmar before I break the news. They already suspect something, and I don't want to give them any reason to just say no and turn around to go back home."

"Do you really think they would do that?"

Jack snorted. "Aedan might. The other two would hear me out but I fear the Samaran deal we struck with Hendrick was a one-time deal. It was easier to convince them when the Swabians were right across the Slot from them but now? When the Javans are across the ocean, they just might bury their heads in the sand again."

"At least Santino would be with you," said Abigail. "After what you did for him in Apulia, I think he would fight his way to the end of the world with you."

Jack tilted his head. "I'm not so sure. His ardor seems to have cooled a little since we took Dagobern. And I'm not surprised by that in the slightest. No one wants another war, least of all me. But one has been forced on us and it's my job to make sure that the West can defend itself."

Abigail's hold on his arm grew tighter. She let out a long sigh a moment later. "Someday, we'll look back on all of this and wonder how our lives were so complicated. It's my sincere hope that we get a long life of peace after all this is over."

Jack leaned over and kissed her forehead. "Mine too," he said briefly, not daring to tell her his thoughts on that matter. With another war brewing and the prophecy still unfulfilled, his chances of surviving to see such a peace were slim to none.

He didn't need to worry Abigail about that though. Not now.

Especially not with what she had to say next.

Abigail placed his hand against her stomach. "Do you think it was a wrong idea to try to get pregnant after all? I know that we can't exactly tell the future but maybe our decision to start trying for a baby was premature."

Jack wanted to tell her they needed to put a hold on it. He wanted to say that having a baby at the beginning of another conflict was going to be bad news. Jack wanted to ask her to wait until the end of that war but the words just couldn't leave his mouth.

He knew how badly she wanted this. He wanted it too but Abigail's desire to be pregnant dwarfed anything else. She'd been made to watch Kat's entire pregnancy and the first year of John's life, all the while knowing that her turn would be next.

Now that it was finally here, it would break his heart (and hers) to rob Abigail of that experience.

The least he could hope for was a delayed pregnancy, especially if her pills were still affecting her hormonal levels as was common with Javan birth control. It wasn't unusual for it to take half a year or more for a woman's body to go back to normal after a lengthy period of taking those pills.

"No, I'm not changing my mind," replied Jack finally. "I've already told you once that we can do it. I won't go back on my word."

Abigail studied his face for a moment. "You're lying to me," she accused.

"How do you figure?"

She smiled and touched the corner of his mouth. "You have a little nervous tick right here," she said, tracing her finger against his skin. "I can always tell when you're not giving the whole truth by watching your mouth. You know, Jack, just say the word and we can postpone having this baby. You won't upset me."

"Now who's the one that's lying?" asked Jack with a knowing look.

She might know his every tick but he knew hers as well. And Abigail would have been crushed to postpone her pregnancy.

She put on a brave face anyway. "I can take it, Jack. I won't like it but I can continue to wait."

He kissed her tenderly. "I won't do that to you. There will be no more waiting. We'll keep trying and we'll get pregnant when your body is ready. Not a moment later."

She couldn't help the excitement in her eyes. She returned his kiss with even more passion. "I love you, Jack."

"I love you too."

"Thank you," she whispered silently. "I want this more than anything."

"I know you do," he replied. "That's why we're going to do it. I want you to be happy."

Abigail sighed happily and placed her head against his shoulder. She looked over at theDestiny. "Did you ever imagine we would be married and talking about children the first time we were on theDestiny together?"

Jack started to chuckle. "No, I didn't. If I remember right, the first time we were on the ship you seduced me after convincing me there was a male Lt. Commander Wainwright."

"And our lives have changed so much since that day," said Abigail as she looked at him. "But I wouldn't change a thing about it if I could. I love the life I share with you. Whether that's being your lover, your friend, your wife, your commodore, or your queen, I love every bit of what we've lived together."

"Soon, we're going to add a new role to that," promised Jack. "Mother of my children."

Abigail visibly shuddered. She let out a toothy grin. "That sounds incredible to me." Abigail soon turned to look at theDestiny again. "Do you think theDestiny will still be around to see all of our children, Jack?"

"I certainly hope so. I hope we don't have to see an end to theDestiny anytime soon."

"Me too, Jack. Me too."

*****

Michael Bainbridge was drunk again.

It was the fourth time in as many days that he was drunk, and by this point in time, his body seemed to develop a tolerance for alcohol that he never possessed before. When he first left the palace three weeks ago, it only took a few drinks to get him stumbling and nearly falling out of his chair. But since he'd drank enough alcohol in that time to float a small battleship, he found that it now took nearly a dozen to get him thoroughly drunk.

Michael wished he could say that it made him feel better to drown his sorrows with cheap booze but it didn't. No matter how much he drank, he still couldn't outrun the pain. It was always the worst when he was close to passing out. The previous night, Michael had fallen asleep on the ground in a dirty alley after tripping over some garbage. He never attempted to get back up and spent the night on the cold ground. Just as he was about to pass out, he saw her.

It was Jade's beautiful face. She smiled at him before she leaned in for a kiss. Michael knew it wasn't real because she was smiling. In the last two weeks of her life, she didn't do that anymore.

He also knew it was fake because Jade's face wasn't marred with the signs of Bancroft's brutality. In his dream, it was still unblemished, smooth, and how it should be.

He still saw Jade as he wanted to see her—as the girl that had his heart and always would. Even if she was taken way too soon, there was no one that could replace Jade for Michael.

It was the reason why the pain of living was almost all he could bear. Michael fled the palace rather than continue to work for the tyrant responsible for Jade's death. At the time, he thought about raising some kind of resistance to Bancroft's rule. He saw himself leading the charge to overthrow Bancroft, with Michael being the one to wield the knife to avenge his true beloved.

Alas, those dreams stayed just that—dreams. In the three weeks that he'd been gone, all he'd done was hide and drink. He knew that it was likely that Bancroft had people looking for him. He also figured that Bancroft had put together that he was Jade's lover, and no doubt he would want him dead for that fact alone.

It was the reason why Michael changed his appearance as the first thing he did. He shaved off all his hair above the eyebrows, going bald for the sake of confusing any tailing agents. He grew a long beard that now was quite wild and scraggy across his face. He exchanged the livery of the palace for something he purchased from a homeless man.

In short, the Michael of today looked nothing like the Michael of three weeks ago. In quiet moments, Michael wondered what Jade would think if she could see him now. Would she admonish him for the depths to which he'd sunk? Or would she tell him to get on with his life?

No, if Michael knew Jade, she would be asking him to avenge her. As long as he lived, he would pursue an end to Bancroft no matter what the cost.

Even if that path wasn't as straightforward as he initially thought.

Michael ordered another beer and flopped a coin on the bar. The barmaid scowled at him, not having liked him since he wouldn't purchase anything more expensive and he always took up space at the most lucrative part of her bar. She took the coin and deposited the beer on the bar in front of him hard enough to spill some of the contents. Michael growled at her.

"Watch it, I'm not paying you to spill the beer!"

She planted both hands on her oversized hips. "Maybe you should go to another bar and bother them then!"

"Maybe I will," growled Michael as he drank heavily from his cup. Beer spilled out the sides of his mouth, wetting his already stained shirt. The man beside him turned his head to look at Michael, a gesture that Michael neither acknowledged nor repeated.

"Rough day, friend?" asked the man.

Michael still didn't turn his head. "Rough life you could say."

The man beside him chuckled in a rather annoying fashion. "Most people in here could say the same thing. What makes yours so different?"

Michael didn't respond to that. He took another swig of his drink and then tried to work at the dirt that had accumulated under his finger nail.

"Ah, the silent type, I see," said the man as he then drank his own cup. "Well, I won't ask about it again."

Michael finished his drink and placed another coin on the bar. "One more," he yelled out to the barmaid, who responded by giving him an obscene gesture.

"You might want to treat the help around here a little better," said the man next to him. "I've seen Bancroft's men take away other men for lesser offenses."

"Fuck Bancroft's men," said Michael, taking a chance to look at the man for the first time. "And fuck Bancroft himself. I'll kill him with my bare hands."

Michael's first look at the man wasn't an unpleasant one. The man beside him would be considered good-looking to most women in Java with his short curly hair and his smooth jaw. He appeared to be only a few years older than Michael but his eyes had a depth to them that Michael had a hard time placing.

The man's dark eyes went wide. He put his hands up. "I'd keep my voice down if I were you," advised the man. "Or else you just might get carted away tonight. Bancroft has people everywhere."

"I don't care," ranted Michael. "He can take me if he wants. I have nothing left now because of that fucker, and I'll kill him myself if it's the last thing I do."

The man was shocked. Even the barmaid was now putting some distance between her and Michael, knowing he was likely to be a dead man walking. Excited whispers were now going through the bar. Quite a few men were openly staring at Michael.

The man next to him placed a coin on the counter for Michael's last drink and quickly shuffled him away, out the side entrance.

"What are you doing?" roared Michael. "I'm not done drinking yet!"

"Saving your life is what I'm doing," replied the man as he quickly led Michael down another darkened alley. They darted to one cross street before hiding behind a fence. The man waited for a minute and then double-backed the way they came before sneaking into another alley, where he placed himself flat against the wall and gestured for Michael to do the same.

"What is the meaning of this?" asked Michael angrily. He felt the man cover his mouth instantly though.

Michael saw why a moment later. Two of the bar patrons were moving through the main street no more than a few feet from their hidden location. Both of them were obviously on someone's trail, and Michael knew that it was his.

"Your outbursts caused the attention of two of Bancroft's men," explained the man after the coast was clear. "You really should learn to control your alcohol better. If we hadn't moved when we did, you'd be a dead man."

Michael's body slumped against the wall. "Why shouldn't I let them take me? I have nothing to live for anymore."

"There's a story somewhere in that statement, my young friend. Perhaps you should tell it."

Michael stiffened at hearing the words of the man. Being called a young friend was something that reminded him of Artemis. He silently wondered how the man was faring back in the palace.

"What does it matter to you?" asked Michael. "For all I know, you're one of them."

The man started to chuckle. "No, I can assure you that those men would want me more than they'd want you."

"I doubt that," quipped Michael. "Not with who I am."

"Then who are you?" asked the man.

"You first," growled Michael.

The man studied him for a moment as if to determine if he was trustworthy. Michael got the impression this man was more dangerous than he appeared.

"Seeing as your hatred for Bancroft seems to match mine, I'll decide to trust you for the moment," said the man. "My name is Victor Nichols. Before the war, I used to work on my family's farm outside of Belfort."

"And after the war?" asked Michael. "What do you do now?"

Victor scowled. "I dedicate my existence to the destruction of this regime that holds our country hostage. Bancroft is responsible for the death of my sister and mother due to his labor laws that impressed them to work against their will. They were the only people I had left in this world. Since then, I've gone underground to fight against his rulership of Java."

Michael's eyes widened. "You mean you're a . . ."

"Rebel? Troublemaker? Yes to all the above," replied Victor. "Which is why I think those men would have been happier to catch me instead of you. I couldn't continue to take that chance by staying in that bar."

"Like I said, I doubt they would be too interested in you if they got your hands on me," replied Michael. "My name is Michael Bainbridge. I've spent my entire life in Belfort, and now that you've heard my last name, you'll understand why."