Kris Longknife: Defender

by Mike Shepherd

  “Thank you for coming on such short notice,” Kris said, and let chuckles roll around the room at the double meaning of her words.

  “Commodore Hawkings, I haven’t gotten a copy of your orders. Can you share them with us?”

  The man pointed his wrist at the screen behind Kris and it came to life. “I am ordered to report to you, Admiral, and conform to your orders.”

  “Thank you,” Kris said. Will I for once have a chain of command that isn’t a knot fit only for a kitten to play with?

  She turned to Commodore Bethea from Savannah. She stood to attention, and announced, “My orders are the same. We are U.S. Navy, and we follow you.”

  Apparently, Grampa Ray was getting more United in his societies than when Kris last passed though. Or maybe they’d just sent her the committed Federalists.

  The captain from Lorna Do quickly rose to her feet. “Same here. We are at your command, Your Highness.”

  Kris would have preferred Admiral, but she’d answer to whatever got her a fighting fleet.

  Now she turned to the hard one. “Commodore Miyoshi, it’s so good to see you again.”

  “And very nice it is to see you in better circumstances,” he said. He also pointed his wrist unit at the screen and his orders appeared. “I am to place myself and my command under your orders and serve honorably at your side, Admiral. You will note that my orders were endorsed by the Emperor himself. I know of no naval force that has ever sailed with that kind of an endorsement from the throne.”

  “I am honored,” Kris said, giving the commodore a deep bow from the waist that he promptly returned.

  Now it was the Helvetican captain’s turn. “It looks to me like everyone’s been drinking from the same beer mug. My orders are identical to yours, Commodore,” he said, raising his wrist and letting the screen show basically the same orders, without the imperial chop.

  That settled, Kris asked the obvious question. “How was your voyage out?”

  The three commodores glanced around at each other, seemed to toss a coin among them, then Hawkings began. “Not bad. We took a separate route than the king took. We did pass through a system with something going on. Definitely a reactor, but it was planet-bound and nothing hailed or shot at us.”

  “Good. Your auxiliaries, will they be staying here?” Kris asked.

  “The repair ships, certainly. Having two dockyards should be nice, but having your own repair ship that I command for my division is better. The supply ships? That’s an interesting question. I have no orders there. Do any of you other folks have orders?”

  That was met with a lot of head shaking. Commodore Miyoshi seemed to speak for all. “What are your orders, Admiral?”

  “They’re Smart Metal, and we’ve found a lot of uses for it,” Kris said, vaguely, then turned to the table with the merchantmen in the rear. “What about you? You’re from the Star Line.”

  They took stock among themselves, then an old salt stood. “We were told to unload and head back, immediately.”

  “You’ll be going without an escort,” Kris said.

  That brought another look around among the skippers. “We can’t sail without an escort,” someone still seated said. “No insurance if we do.”

  “Aren’t you going to give us an escort?” the standing salt asked.

  “I need all the frigates here with me,” Kris said.

  “I told you they was going to get us good,” came from someone.

  “I think we ought to make a run for it,” was someone’s input.

  “May I point out,” Kris said, softly, “that Star Lines is a wholly owned subsidiary of Nuu Enterprises, and I’m the authorized CEO of said enterprises here on Alwa.”

  That was met by groans from the back and quite a few chuckles from the Navies.

  “We been had.”

  “Yes, I think you have,” Kris admitted. “Please continue off-loading tomorrow. When you’re done, I’d like you to dock your ships in the yard portion of the station. We’re likely going to use you for ore carriers. We want to make our own lasers. We’ve found the ore and are mining it, but we need to ship it from the asteroid belt to the moon here.” That was met with more groans.

  “There is, however, one other possibility.” Several heads came up. “I want to dispatch a ship on a dangerous recon mission. We’ll arm the ship, but it’s not intended that you will fight. Just take a peek and run back.”

  “Take a peek at what?”

  “What we think may be the home planet of the aliens,” Kris said. That brought on louder groans from the merchants and longer chuckles from the Navy types.

  When quiet returned, a young woman stood. “I’m pushing the Altair, ma’am. Me and mine wouldn’t mind talking a bit more about that scout mission, if you will.”

  Kris had to work real hard not to hear some of the comments from the other merchant types. “You can join me at my table for a drink after we finish here,” Kris said.

  The woman sat down and pulled her chair a bit away from the other merchant skippers.

  “Now, for the fleet. We’ve got warning buoys six jumps out. One of the outer ones has gone silent. We haven’t checked to see if it just broke or if it’s been shot up. I don’t intend to. The fleet that’s here will stand by to fight when, not if, the aliens come at us again. For that fight, we need to reorganize.”

  Kris turned to her old squadron mates. “Commodore Kitano, you will command BatRon 1, with two divisions of four frigates each.”

  “Aye, aye, Admiral.”

  “Commodore Hawkings, you and the Lorna Do contingent will form BatRon 2, with two divisions.”

  “Yes, Admiral. Pardon me for asking, ma’am, but we were dispatched as a frigate squadron. Battle squadron?”

  “You’re packing 20-inch lasers, Commodore. Our ships may be frigates, but we’re forming battle squadrons. Does that answer your question?”

  “Certainly, Admiral.”

  “Commodore Bethea, Savannah will form BatRon 3.”

  “Glad to, Admiral Longknife.”

  “Commodore Miyoshi, you have BatRon 4.”

  “Honored to serve with you, Admiral.”

  “The Helvetican division will form independent Division 9. If we can knock together some lasers, you may have some of the auxiliaries up-gunned into fighting ships with you.”

  Several of the auxiliary skippers looked more than willing to follow that path.

  “Captain Drago,” Kris said, and the old sea dog stood, now in a full Navy captain’s uniform. “The Wasp and the Intrepid will form independent Division 10. I’m aware of the handicap your slower reload rate places on you. You will continue to be my flag, and we will accommodate your ship’s limitations.”

  “The Wasp is a very good ship, Admiral.”

  “I know very well that it is, Captain,” Kris said, then turned back to the fleet in general. “Tomorrow, at 0900, the battle fleet will sortie for a speed run to the nearest gas giant. We will proceed through the asteroid belt and use them for target practice. No asteroids larger than one meter will be targeted. We don’t want to spoil any miner’s claim. We will launch pinnaces and refuel from the gas giant. Any questions?”

  There were none.

  “Then, all hands, as Viceroy of Alwa, let me thank you for coming to the aid of both the colonials and natives of this planet. Know that we are in for a fight, but that there is every prospect that we will be the victors in it. Now, enjoy your first night on Canopus Station, and yes, we have a policy restricting you to two drinks. Sorry, but the resources of the planet beneath us are being pushed to their limits to support us. I appreciate the agricultural gear you brought, but must point out that it may be several months before a new crop comes in.”

  Kris paused to see how this sank in. From the looks she got, their logistics problem was not a surprise. She’d have to ch
eck in with the commodores after the meeting to see just how well supplied they were. “Again, thank you, and please enjoy our hospitality.”

  The room broke out in talk. As Kris expected, the four commodores quickly gravitated to her table. All were young, clearly advanced ahead of their time. The war would show if they truly merited the honors. No surprise, their supply ships were loaded. All expected to be self-supporting for the next three months. That took a load off Kris.

  It was newly promoted Commodore Kitano who caused Kris to cancel the next day’s sortie. She asked if the other frigates had been modified to permit high-speed jinking? That brought blank stares. She and Captain Drago explained the need for dodging and the required mods they had made to their ships. Instead of drills, the next day would need to be devoted to bringing the new frigates up to Alwa fighting standards. Both Kitano and Drago promised to share expertise with the newcomers.

  All the time this conversation was going on, Kris kept catching the skipper of the cargo ship Altair waiting close but not too close. Only after the commodores moved off to share schematics of changes and schedule visits by chief technicians, did the young skipper and the two women who worked for her settle down at Kris’s table.

  “An all-woman crew, Captain?” Kris asked.

  “No, just most of the officers willing to serve with me,” the woman skipper answered.

  Kris introduced Penny to Jade O’dell. “Penny is my intelligence officer and will be nominally in command of the frigate Endeavor.”

  “You already have a ship?”

  “No, but when your ship is respun, it will be a frigate with six 18-inch lasers.”

  “Nobody said anything about fighting,” her engineering officer said.

  “Three guns will point aft and three forward. With the bastards we’re dealing with, you don’t want to just have running as your only option though I’d prefer it.”

  “Okay. I got engineering, but I don’t have anyone trained with guns,” O’dell said.

  “The Canopus Station manager wanted to have some protection. He mounted the smaller lasers from the Wasp and hired Alwans to fire them. I plan to borrow both.”

  “Reprogramming my ship into a warship,” O’dell mused. “Mounting guns manned by aliens. Any more surprises?”

  “The boffins are standing in line to go with you. Half the scientists want to get a look at the alien world. They all figure they can extract the real meaning of the place.”

  “So we’ll have a mob of eggheads,” the first mate said.

  “No,” Penny said. “You will have only as many as I and Professor Labao say go. Fifty, a hundred at most.”

  “Passengers,” the chief engineer said, and made it sound like a dirty word.

  “Many have sailed with me,” Kris said, “and I can vouch that they are housebroken. If they don’t behave themselves, Penny here will activate their reserve commission and make them toe the mark in uniform.”

  “And us?” the captain asked.

  “Penny and I are used to having a contractor commanding our ship, the Wasp. Penny will make the call where you go and when you run. Any problem with that?”

  “How many years you been with this Longknife?” the engineer asked.

  “Over five, and I’m still alive and kicking,” Penny said.

  “Sounds good enough. We’ll get a chance to do something important. See the galaxy. Have a story to tell and shame those prissy boys. Win all around,” O’dell said.

  Kris watched them go. On lesser things great victories had turned.

  Then she turned to her next problem. Making sure that the other merchant skippers didn’t try to make a run for it with their cargo still aboard.

  “Not a problem, Kris,” Nelly said. “I checked. Their tanks are as bone dry as you can get. One jump. Not a bit more. Oh, and their ships have two reactors and aren’t programmed to spin off a pinnace. I checked.”

  “So, they have to stay. Good planning on someone’s part.” Which left her wondering whose. Just how twisted was Grampa Ray’s mind? Or had he just delegated that to someone like Commodore Hawkings?

  She glanced around and spotted Jack talking to several other Marines. Their eyes met, and Jack quickly finished up what he’d been doing.

  “You ready to head home?” he asked as he joined her.

  “All meetinged out.”

  “Hope you saved something. I moved my gear into your quarters and let Drago have my space back.”

  “There has to be some advantage to being all the way across the galaxy from people who make silly regs.”

  “I’ll set up a Marine command center tomorrow. Could I borrow one of your screens?”

  “Half of what I have is yours.”

  “One screen will do. I’ll do my Marine work there.”

  “But you’re sleeping beside me?”

  48

  Without the sortie, Kris was stuck with administrative work the next day. The prospects seemed less onerous after waking up beside Jack and showering and dressing together before dropping down to the wardroom for breakfast.

  Granny Rita didn’t let Kris finish her bran muffin and juice . . . of an unidentified variety . . . before she had Nelly get her a list of what each ship had and started arguing over what priority to land them.

  She didn’t like it when she heard that the Altair would unload first. She was still grumbling as Kris explained why. Longknifes, even former Longknifes, could be a real pain.

  Kris oversaw getting the flow of material dirtside started, then touched base with Admiral Benson, ret. He was already pulling his hair out. “Have you any idea how much energy it takes to get Smart Metal flowing?” Kris admitted she didn’t. He told her.

  “Have you asked the folks on the Musashi half of the station if you can have one of their huge reactors?” Kris asked.

  “Will you ask them? I don’t want to seem too needy and, you know.”

  Kris knew very well how it was with businessmen. She put on her CEO of local Nuu Enterprises hat and had tea with a kind old gentleman, Hiroshi, the manager of the Mitsubishi yard. It turned out that he expected to surrender three of his many reactors. He was just waiting for someone to tell him where to send them.

  Kris connected him with Superintendent Benson, and they were soon best of friends, since Benson only coveted one of those reactors.

  Kris’s next stop was Pipra. She now had a very spartan office next to the Thai restaurant. Wasn’t Smart MetalTM nice. “That was one hard-assed twist you took to drafting those ships and their crew,” was her greeting for Kris.

  “I need them. At least one of those ships is going to be a frigate and go scout the alien home world.”

  “Still, you might have offered them a bonus for staying on.”

  Kris paused to consider that. “Good point. I keep forgetting that money is a motivator for your sector of the economy.”

  “Don’t make it sound dirty; it’s getting you lasers.”

  “How’s that coming?”

  “We’ve started shipping the parts for a couple of them up to the station.”

  “You’ll get most of the ships when they’re unloaded.”

  “It will help. How long do you think we have?”

  “I don’t know,” Kris said. Then Nelly cut in.

  “Kris, they want you back at the command center.”

  “Why?”

  “Another jump buoy just got popped.”

  “I’ll be right there. Get the commodores headed that way as well.”

  “Ask a stupid question,” Pipra said, “get the answer you don’t want to hear.”

  “Please keep this under your hat,” Kris said. “At least until I get back to you with something more definite than we lost a buoy. I don’t even know which one.”

  “I’ll keep quiet until lunch. Having the latest news g
ives me points. You must know that.”

  What Kris knew was that Father did his best to keep news away from the news.

  She headed for the Wasp and found herself walking briskly beside Commodore Miyoshi. “Is this it?” he asked.

  “We’ve got six layers of buoys. This could be a fifth one out or another of the farthest ones.”

  “Or they could have done a big jump like we did.”

  “It’s hard to get a base ship moving very fast. Would you want to risk twenty, thirty billion people on a bad jump?”

  “I know what I’d do,” Commodore Miyoshi said. “I don’t know what they’d do. What’s a bad jump for folks that are born and live their whole lives in space?”

  “Good point, but they’re after us. Jumping all to hell and gone won’t do us any damage. Let’s quit guessing and see what’s happening.”

  They crossed the brow to the Wasp just as the other commodores arrived. It was a silent group that entered Kris’s day quarters. Jack was there, as was Penny. Captain Drago entered from the bridge as they came in from the passageway.

  Kris’s screens lit up. “We’ve lost another buoy,” said Drago. “It’s one of the outer ones.”

  “That’s good,” Commodore Miyoshi said.

  “Maybe not so good,” Kris said. “Nelly, am I right? Does that system lead to the Beta Jump Point?”

  “Yes, Kris.”

  “Nelly, get me Pipra.”

  “On the line, Kris.”

  “Pipra, I’m glad you’re not out gossiping about what you heard. Tell me, how are things coming at digging in a Hellburner base on the gas giant’s moons near Beta Jump Point?”

  “I thought the aliens were coming in the Alpha Jump again.”

  “Looks like they are keeping their options open. We need to get a base near Beta.”

  “We haven’t started.”

  “We need to start right now.”

  “That’s going to slow down the mining and transportation for more lasers.”

  “Can’t be helped. Lasers aren’t going to dent a mother ship. Get the drilling operation moving to Beta. Change the unloading priorities. Push the Altair, but concentrate on one of the others as much as you can. Ignore the other two. Once you get the second unloaded, respin it into two transports and get them out to the mines for ore. Then we can do the third and fourth.”