Rita Longknife - Enemy Unknown Book I of the Iteeche War (Jump Point Universe 5)

by Mike Shepherd

  The last ship through was the prefab space station. The acting skipper on that one knew she had a better bargaining chip than the others. “What will you give me not to blow this station up, or at least render it useless as a station?”

  “What do you want?”

  The woman eyed him hard. “Command of my own ship in your fleet, Admiral.”

  Whitebred liked her. She could read his rank and didn’t have to be told he was more than just any skipper.

  “I think we can work that out,” Whitebred offered. “I’ll need to know that you won’t go running to the Navy the first time you set sail, so you may have to sail under one of my skippers for a cruise or two. And not with any of your crew.”

  “I don’t see that as a problem,” the woman said, and smiled. She had a dimple on her right cheek when she smiled.

  I could get to like you, my fine young woman, Whitebred thought, and then smiled some more.

  This went better than I expected. A station, two ships full of hard working laborers and two more full of nice goodies for a new colony. Better than I’d expected. Much better.

  Chapter 13

  General Ray Longknife did not like the way his day was going. His meeting with the prime minister had been little short of a disaster. After getting the full briefing on what was happening along the trade routes, he could not believe the patronizing tone the Prime Minister had taken as he said, “You’ve had your war. You got to be a hero. Now let the rest of us get on with our lives.”

  Ray was speechless. Yes, he was a war hero, just look at what the media was saying about him. However, Ray considered every man and woman who marched off to war a hero. Many who hadn’t come back had done things much more heroic than he had.

  Just ask Captain Santiago.

  Of course, no one could ask Captain Santiago anything. He was dead, along with President Urm and somehow Ray was getting all the credit that man deserved.

  It wasn’t fair.

  But the prime minister was just plain stupid.

  Ray had somehow managed to hold on to his temper by his fingernails. He’d marched, not stormed, out of the prime minister’s office. Calmly he walked across the street and settled onto a bench in the shade of a large oak tree. There, he’d taken ten, count them, ten slow breaths and looked at his options.

  He could go to the media. After all, he was the man who killed President Urm.

  Right, go there and burn your bridges.

  He had the Exploration Ministry. That gave him five ships, actually light cruisers converted to scouts after the war. At least he could use them to snoop around and see what could be found.

  And there was always the Navy. Officially, the Wardhaven Navy was now part of the Society of Humanity Navy. Officially, there really wasn’t any Wardhaven Navy left, just ask the prime minister.

  Well, there was a Main Navy building and it still had people working there. They must be doing something. Maybe they even had a few ships somewhere.

  Ray took a few more breaths. That old oak did give off a nice scent this early on what looked to be a grand spring day.

  Lungs cleansed, if not mind, Ray stood, did a smart right turn and headed down the street.

  He knew where Main Navy was. Unfortunately, the last time he’d been here, he was only a major commanding the 2nd Guard. His job then was to coordinate with the Navy both fire support for the landing and their packing up and loading out to a worthless rock that didn’t even have a name.

  There he’d met an earnest young pilot officer of transports, a woman, intent on proving that a woman could do a job just as well as any man. They’d hit it off, shared a drink and dinner, and gone on to prove that they were a damn good team.

  Yes, Main Navy was where he first met Rita.

  He couldn’t help but smile at the distance the two of them had come in such a short time.

  But what that all meant at this moment was that he was here to see the Chief of Naval Operations and he hadn’t the foggiest notion where his office was . . . or even the name of the current occupant.

  That only deepened his smile. So, standing in the immense foyer of Main Navy, lacking the proper frown and mean demeanor of a senior officer, as well as being in civilian clothes, it took him several tries to intercept one of the intent young men marching quickly from one important meeting to another.

  It was a young woman pilot officer who finally took mercy on him.

  “Sir, may I help you?” she said.

  “Have you ever heard of Senior Pilot Officer Rita Nuu?” he asked, wondering if he might get more mileage here as her husband.

  “Yes, sir,” the woman beamed. “She brought out the wreckage of the 2nd Guard Brigade in the war, sir. Everyone knows of how Senior Pilot Officer Nuu held on the ground long after fleet sounded the recall. Every one of us pilot officers hopes we can be as brave as her in a fight.” The young woman paused for a moment, and colored, “and win the hand of such a gallant officer as Major Ray Longknife, sir.”

  “Good, then maybe you can help me. Who’s the head honcho around here, and where’s his office?”

  “Do you mean the Chief of Naval Operations, sir? He’s Admiral Zilko.”

  “Yep, I think he’s the one I’m after.”

  Suddenly, she looked a lot less happy to be offering to help him. “Sir, he’s a very busy man. Unless you have an appointment, I’m not sure he’ll have time for you.”

  Ray chewed his lower lip for a moment, then said, “Oh, I think he’ll find time.”

  The pilot officer didn’t look all that sure. “Well, sir, I can take you to his office and you can talk to his secretary. Maybe he can set you up for something later this week.”

  And so she led him to the proper office. It was a rat’s maze, as bad as any office wren Ray had ever had to maneuver through. Maybe that was why the woman hung around at the CNO’s office, to help lead the poor sn ook of a civilian back out to the street when he’d found out the way the Navy worked.

  Admiral Zilko’s secretary seemed none too happy that the young woman had helped this civilian wash up on his desk. He didn’t even look up as he asked, “And you are?” without even the customary sir.

  “General Ray Nuu Longknife, Minister of Exploration here to see the admiral,” Ray said curtly.

  It was hard to say who reacted first. The young pilot officer’s mouth dropped open and she turned the loveliest shade of pink. The secretary jumped to his feet and bolted for the door, apparently forgetting that he had a comm button he could have used to alert his admiral about the elephant that had just trod his way into his outer office.

  “You didn’t tell me,” the young woman whispered, with as much accusation as she could load in the words around a growing smile.

  “I really didn’t know who is CNO these days, or where his office is,” Ray said.

  “But you’re Pilot Officer Nuu’s husband!”

  “And she was just as courageous as you were told. And a damn fine pilot.”

  “Yes, sir,” she said, and braced as Admiral Zilko barged out to shake Ray’s hand.

  “Longknife, what brings you to my part of this wreck about to happen?” Zilko demanded.

  “This fine pilot officer,” Ray said, “I didn’t get your name, miss.”

  “Pilot Officer Ursel Jannson, sir.”

  “Well, you can’t steal any more of my pilot officers, you hear,” Admiral Zilko said. “I hear Rita’s pregnant. When’s the baby due?” he asked as he ushered Ray into his office, leaving the junior officers to lick their wounds after scraped their young, soft skin against the crusty hide of senior elephants and their sense of humor.

  “Mother and son are doing as well as can be expected,” Ray said. “Rita came off that damn rock less banged up than this birthing business did her.”

  “If we guys had to do the birth thing, the human race would have died out in a generation, or so my wife insists. And who am I to doubt her wisdom, not having her experience. Now, you didn’t come over here to ask
me how to survive your parental leave. I hope you aren’t planning on stealing any more of my light cruisers. We’re down to the bottom of the barrel as it is.”

  “Nope, this time I’m hoping to steal some heavy cruisers,” Ray said.

  “You’re joking,” the admiral said, offering Ray a seat on his couch before he settled into his well-worn leather chair at Ray’s elbow.

  Ray took in the office. It was pretty much standard issue. A table to meet around. A desk to get work done at, and a couple of comfortable chairs and couches to talk around. He had one of them himself now. Only having inherited the vacant offices of the Unity party building, his was bigger and prettier.

  “We’ve got a problem,” he said, and filled the admiral in on the erstwhile Admiral Whitebred’s latest hijinks.

  “This the same son of a bitch that wanted to rock Wardhaven?”

  “The selfsame,” Ray said.

  “What’s he doing back in uniform? I thought he was headed for some serious jail time when they dragged him out of here in chains.”

  “First off, no one knows who gave him a ‘Get out of Jail Free’ card, but he got one. Second, he’s not in a Society uniform this time but something having to do with the Savannah Navy.”

  “I didn’t know they had a Navy.”

  “They didn’t, at least in the last war. I don’t know what he did to get the uniform, maybe he just found it beside the road and it fit him. There’s too damn much we don’t know about him, but he showed up on Savannah wearing it and may have had something to do with Milassi’s liner blowing up. Curious how he ran for the president’s job. That didn’t work out, so he’s been hiding out in the yard on High Savannah with a lot of bad actors. At least he was until recently until he upped and suddenly sailed off with twenty-five or so ships, including two Daring and two General class light cruisers, lasers and all.”

  “Damn, no wonder you want some heavy cruisers.”

  “Exactly. I’ve got five explorer ships that still have their 6-inch lasers from the war, not that we carry a full gunnery department, but we got them. I don’t know how good Whitebred’s crews are, but he’s got a lot of desperate souls backing his play.”

  “Does he know anything about ice armor?” the admiral asked. “A ship’s just a target without armor. Those light cruisers got at least a meter’s worth of ice protection when they were in commission.”

  “What Whitebred picked up during his stint in the Navy is anybody’s guess. You don’t keep the ice on them when they decommission, do you?”

  “It depends. If they’re going to the mothball fleet and might be recommissioned, they keep their ice. If they’re going to the scrap heap, we de-ice them. Hell, that water’s worth a pretty penny. I’m not giving that away, not with my budgets.”

  “I thought cutting the damn ice off was too labor intense,” Ray said.

  “Right, you did have some experience taking ice off the Second Chance with a pick axe, didn’t you?”

  “And it saved my life. Me and a lot of fine people.”

  “Well, I gave out a $50,000 cash award to one old chief who figured out how to make a standard ice machine mobile and use it on the hull of the decommissioning ships. No, I doubt any Navy would let go of a ship with a couple of thousand tons of ice on it.”

  “So, he’s likely running around with light ships and untrained gunnery crews,” Ray said.

  “But he’s still packing a dozen 6-inch lasers. If he gets the first shots off, any of your scout cruisers will be in trouble,” the admiral said.

  “So, can I borrow a couple of heavy cruisers and their crews?” Ray asked, getting to the whole reason he’d come to talk.

  The CNO shrugged. “I got plenty of heavy cruisers trailing the station. Now, getting money to operate them and a crew to do the same, that’s not in my budget.”

  The two men leaned back into their respective easy chairs and stared off into space, as if to find some spare change dangling from the ceiling.

  “I’ve got my own crews,” Ray said.

  “But you don’t even have a full crew on those ships, much less enough to fill out a heavy cruiser’s billets.”

  “And I have my own operating budget. There’s a lot of businessmen glad to have the results of our scouting sweeps go into the public domain, unlike some of the secret stuff that’s coming back from private exploration.”

  “You think you could get some more donations?” the admiral asked.

  “I can try. Rita’s dad has an in with a lot of this planet’s industry. If he puts a good word in, we might get something. Now, do you have any crew you can spare?”

  “I’ve managed to keep six heavy cruisers in commission. If you can get us a target, we can shoot it for you, but I don’t have much of an operations budget. Hell, I’ve had to park our entire assault transport fleet and I’m using those fine young women like your wife who crewed them as little more than pretty messenger girls.”

  “Don’t tell Rita that. She’d take your head off,” Ray advised, the went on, “So, you’re willing, but broke.”

  “You figure out a way to pay for it, and I’m your man.”

  On that, Ray left.

  The driver from Nuu House, Harvey, a wounded vet from the Unity war, was waiting for Ray as he exited Main Navy. It was a short drive home. Ray was lost in thought as he climbed the stairs to the suite of rooms he and Rita shared.

  A nurse met him at the door and shushed him. “Your wife and son are nursing at the moment,” she told him.

  He let himself into the nursery to find Rita and Alex busy with lunch. A stern middle aged woman, apparently the newly hired nanny, surrendered the second rocking chair to Ray and he settled down next to Rita.

  Her eyes were closed and she had the most lovely, gentle smile on her face. It didn’t last nearly long enough.

  She opened her eyes, saw him, and asked, “So, how bad is it?”

  Ray glanced at the nanny, who’s security clearance surely didn’t rise to the level of his and Rita’s pillow talk. With a nod from Rita, the woman left them alone.

  Ray quickly filled his wife in on his meeting with the prime minister and the CNO.

  “I didn’t expect you to get very far with that old biddy,” she said. “Now, Admiral Zelko has a decent reputation. So, if you can find the money and the crew, you can upgrade to a meaner brand of ship.”

  “So it seems.”

  “You tell Zelko I can get him the crews for two heavies, but I command one of them. And as a captain, none of the Flight Officer shit this time.”

  Ray took the measure of his wife, and swallowed a dozen different arguments. “I’ll tell him that.”

  “And you tell him I want those beached flight officers given first call on volunteering for my division of cruisers. Them and our engineers and defensive officers. We get real Navy ranks on those ships, you tell him.”

  “Engineers? Defensive officers?” Ray said.

  “How much time did you spend on my transport? Did you ever get into the Friendship’s innards?”

  Ray shook his head. “I was either with my men in berthing spaces or unloading stations or with you on your bridge.”

  “Well, we had engineering officers and technicians. We had lasers with defensive officers and techs, too. We had a lot of women doing men’s jobs, but always with some mickey mouse rank that meant nothing to real Sailors. Oh, and half the pay of a real sailorman. Well, this time, we get the rank, even if we don’t get the pay.”

  “We could commission you in the Explorer Corps,” Ray offered. “We’re using Navy ranks.”

  “You do that, good husband, and you’ll be sleeping in the dog house, outside with Shaggy. We never have been able to get Shaggy’s flea problem solved. You like fleas?”

  That required no answer. “I’ll talk to Admiral Zilko tomorrow about commissioning you as a captain in his Navy and sending out a call for volunteers among the women transport officers and technicians to see how many are interested in volunteering for
Exploration heavy cruisers if it means trading in their ranks for Navy ranks and rates.”

  “You know, husband, you are a smart man. I don’t have to hit you upside the head more than once with a ball peen hammer to get your attention.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “Now, we’re done here, and little Alex seems to have finally fallen asleep. If you will call in the nanny, you and I can adjourn to our bed. I feel the strong need for some cuddle time. I’ve almost forgotten what it feels like to have your arms around me.”

  Ray didn’t salute, but he most certainly went to obey his orders.

  Chapter 14

  Captain Mattim Abeeb brought the Exploration Cruiser Second Chance smartly alongside the pier on High Wardhaven. His bones and muscles ached from the long pull at two gees.

  But there was no rest for him. Even at the ungodly hour of 0130 as the military accounted time, there was a party waiting for him, General Ray Longknife at its head.

  Matt wasted no time bringing them and several of his senior ship personnel into his wardroom. As he saw that coffee mugs were filled and midrats distributed, he said simply. “We found where the Prosperous Goose was attacked and taken.”

  “Where we think it was attacked,” Professor Qin put in, putting a finer point on it.

  “Fill us in,” the general said curtly, so Matt did.

  When he was done, Ray said nothing for a long moment. Some of the Second Chance’s officers began to fidget. Matt noticed that Captain Mary Rodrigo of his security team/Marine detachment was not one of them. She’d known Ray the longest. She defeated him in the one fight they’d shared and shared a couple of beers or three since then.

  She took the general in and waited.

  “You did good,” Ray finally said. “Yes, I’d like to know more about this site where you think she was hijacked. I’d like to know more about where this trail led. Still, it’s better I know what you know. You should also know what I know.”