Kris Longknife Commanding
Mike Shepherd
KL & MM Books
Contents
Praise for the Kris Longknife Novels
Copyright Information
Also by Mike Shepherd
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
About the Author
2018 Releases
Praise for the Kris Longknife Novels
“A whopping good read . . . Fast-paced, exciting, nicely detailed, with some innovative touches.” - Elisabeth Moon, Nebula Award-winning author of Crown Renewal
“Shepherd delivers no shortage of military action, in space and on the ground. It’s cinematic, dramatic, and dynamic . . . [He also] demonstrates a knack for characterization, balancing serious moments with dry humor . . . A thoroughly enjoyable adventure featuring one of science fiction’s most interesting recurring heroines.” - Tor.com
“A tightly written, action-packed adventure from start to finish . . . Heart-thumping action will keep the reader engrossed and emotionally involved. It will be hard waiting for the next in the series.” - Fresh Fiction
“[Daring] will elate fans of the series . . . The story line is faster than the speed of light.” - Alternative Worlds
“[Kris Longknife] will remind readers of David Weber’s Honor Harrington with her strength and intelligence. Mike Shepherd provides an exciting military science fiction thriller.” -Genre Go Round Reviews
“‘I’m a woman of very few words, but lots of action’: so said Mae West, but it might just as well have been Lieutenant Kris Longknife, princess of the one hundred worlds of Wardhaven. Kris can kick, shoot, and punch her way out of any dangerous situation, and she can do it while wearing stilettos and a tight cocktail dress. She’s all business, with a Hell’s Angel handshake and a ‘get out of my face’ attitude. But her hair always looks good . . . Kris Longknife is funny and she entertains us.” - SciFi Weekly
“[A] fast-paced, exciting military SF series . . . Mike Shepherd has a great ear for dialogue and talent for injecting dry humor into things at just the right moment . . . The characters are engaging, and the plot is full of twists and peppered liberally with sharply described action. I always look forward to installments in the Kris Longknife series because I know I’m guaranteed a good time with plenty of adventure.” -SF Site
In the New York Times bestselling Kris Longknife novels, “Fans of the Honor Harrington escapades will welcome the adventures of another strong female in outer space starring in a thrill-a-page military space opera.” - Alternative Worlds
“Military SF fans are bound to get a kick out of the series as a whole.” - SF Site
Copyright Information
Published by KL & MM Books
May 2017
Copyright © 2017 by Mike Moscoe
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording or any other information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher.
This book is a work of fiction set 400 years in humanity’s future. Any similarity between present people, places or events would be spectacularly unlikely and is purely coincidental.
This book is written and published by the author. Please don’t pirate it. I’m self-employed. The money I earn from the sales of these books allows me to produce more stories to entertain you. I’d hate to have to get a day job again. If this book comes into your hands free, please consider going to your favorite e-book provider and investing in a copy so I can continue to earn a living at this wonderful art.
I would like to thank my wonderful cover artist, Scott Grimando, who did all my Ace covers and will continue doing my own book covers. I also am grateful for the editing skill of Lisa Müller, Edee Lemonier, and as ever, Ellen Moscoe.
Rev 1.0
eBook ISBN-13: 978-1-64211-0241
Print ISBN-13: 978-1-64211-0234
Also by Mike Shepherd
Published by KL & MM Books
Kris Longknife: Admiral
Kris Longknife: Emissary
Kris Longknife: Commanding
Kris Longknife’s Relief
Kris Longknife’s Replacement
Kris Longknife’s Successor
Rita Longknife: Enemy Unknown
Rita Longknife: Enemy in Sight
Short Stories from KL & MM Books
Kris Longknife’s Maid Goes On Strike and Other Short Stories: Vignettes from Kris Longknife’s World
Kris Longknife’s Maid Goes On Strike
Kris Longknife’s Bad Day
Ruth Longknife’s First Christmas
Kris Longknife: Among the Kicking Birds
Ace Books by Mike Shepherd
Kris Longknife: Mutineer
Kris Longknife: Deserter
Kris Longknife: Defiant
Kris Longknife: Resolute
Kris Longknife: Audacious
Kris Longknife: Intrepid
Kris Longknife: Undaunted
Kris Longknife: Redoubtable
Kris Longknife: Daring
Kris Longknife: Furious
Kris Longknife: Defender
Kris Longknife: Tenacious
Kris Longknife: Unrelenting
Kris Longknife: Bold
Vicky Peterwald: Target
Vicky Peterwald: Survivor
Vicky Peterwald: Rebel
Mike Shepherd writing as Mike Moscoe in the Jump Point Universe
First Casualty
The Price of Peace
They Also Serve
Rita Longknife: To Do or Die
Short Specials
Kris Longknife: Training Daze
Kris Longknife: Welcome Home, Go Away
Kris Longknife’s Bloodhound
Kris Longknife’s Assassin
The Lost Millennium Trilogy Published by KL & MM Books
Lost Dawns: Prequel
First Dawn
Second Fire
Lost Days
1
Grand Admiral, Her Royal Highness Kris Longknife of Wardhaven stood at attention. Today, she stood her place both as a Grand Admiral in the United Society’s Navy and as an Iteeche Imperial Admiral of the First Order of Steel.
Kris kept her eyes front, but soldiers for eon
s had learned to take in their world while looking straight ahead. The Imperial throne room was dazzling.
The massive, opulent hall was large enough to build several star ships in. However, the actual throne room stood on a massive block of rare blue marble streaked with onyx and silver. It was surrounded on three sides by twisting banners that streamed from the ceiling several hundred meters overhead. They reflected every color of the ocean. The area atop the marble platform had seemed vast when Kris presented her Emissary credentials to the Emperor. There had been only two other, very senior Imperial advisors, present that day.
Today, it was actually crowded.
The air, then sweet with the scent of incense, now stank of every possible scent . . . overlaid with deathly fear.
On a dais, approachable by six steep steps, was a large throne of delicately carved soft pink coral.
The young Emperor, barely half the size of one of the eight-foot-tall Iteeche officials, was almost lost in the folds of his regalia and swallowed up by the throne. The teenager was the All Powerful and Worshipful Emperor of All the Iteeche. He ruled nearly three thousand planets with absolute power.
He was also a very frightened puppet.
Kris felt pity for the poor boy, but there was nothing she could do about his situation. The Imperial Household controlled every waking moment of the boy’s life. Except for the occasional audience, that life was hidden from all.
Kris’s only job, as far as the Imperial Court was concerned, was to keep the kid alive. Oh, and serve as the First and Prime Emissary to the Imperial Court from the Human Race.
For the moment, Kris stood at an expectant attention. To her left, and two steps behind her, stood Admiral Amber Kitano. She’d brought out the United Society’s First Battlecruiser Fleet that was ninety-six ships strong. They hadn’t quite saved Kris’s bacon, but they most definitely had ruined the dash for the exit by a whole lot of rebel leaders racing to save their own bacon.
Those leaders were the “guests of honor” at this Most Sincere and Very Complete Apology to the Emperor.
Behind Admiral Kitano were arrayed the other human admirals, both Rear Admirals Ajax and Afon who had fought with Kris in her long and bloody battle, and the vice admirals and rear admirals that had come out with Admiral Kitano.
The human delegation was the smallest; both in number, height, and weight.
To Kris’s distant left stood Imperial Admiral of the Second Order of Steel Cloth, resplendent in his gray and gold uniform. His recent promotion had been earned in a hard-fought battle under Kris’s command. Behind him, drawn up in several rows, stood the surviving Iteeche admirals of that battle, organized by a myriad of ranks from the Fourth Order of Cloth on up.
When you had a fleet with tens of thousands of ships and a society where every tiny bit of status was observed meticulously, the five stars the humans used to rank admirals seemed ridiculous.
The Iteeche admirals stood closer to the boy Emperor, as if they might need to rush forward to impose themselves between these two-legged aliens and His Worshipfulness. As if the humans might suddenly decide to renew the Iteeche-Human war.
Kris suppressed a smile at this thought. She commanded the Iteeche Combined Battle Fleet. She was fighting the rebels to keep the child on the throne and a couple of billion people on this planet from being murdered from space.
Still, the Iteeche measured every action of state with a micrometer accurate to nanometers.
Across from Kris stood row upon row of court officials. Usually, they’d all be crawling on their belly before the Emperor. However, so many people were present, both to observe and learn a stern lesson, that they could do nothing but stand.
Half of the mob was made of Iteeche in pure white robes, and others in every shade of green. Kris still didn’t understand the full role of those Iteeche. Officially, the Iteeche had no religion. Yet the white robes seemed to commune with something transcendent, and the green spoke of philosophy as they offered conflicting advice to the Emperor.
The other half of the mass of Iteeche across from Kris wore robes of many iridescent colors, marking them as Administrators or Counselors to the Emperor. Among them were Roth’sum’We’sum’Quin, leader of the Chap’sum’We clan. Standing right behind his chooser was Ron’sum’Pin’sum’We.
The Chap’sum’We clan was probably Kris’s strongest ally in this court, if any Iteeche would truly commit itself to tie its interests to that of the still-hated humans. Ron alone had been raised to understand the strange way of the human aliens. He was the closest Kris had to a friend among the four-legged, four-armed and four-eyed aliens.
What was more interesting to Kris at the moment was Ron’s dress. Like his chooser, he wore the iridescent robes of an Imperial Administrator and Counselor. He had, however, commanded one of the wings in the recent battle. He’d led a fifth of the forces under Kris’s command.
As such, he should have stood among the fighting admirals.
Instead, he stood with his chooser and the political overlords of the Empire. If Kris had any doubt that it was preferred for Navy Officers to use the servants’ entrance, this told her all she needed to know.
To Kris’s right, between her and the Iteeche priests, philosophers, and administrators, knelt the pathetic “guests of honor” for this apology.
These were the leaders of the rebel clans that had come with the fleet of eight thousand battlecruisers. They had intended to blast their way through an Imperial fleet badly sapped by treachery, seize the sky over the Imperial Capital Planet, and gas every inhabitant on it. They would then bring in their own people to repopulate the planet and use its resources.
Oh, and one of them would have sat his butt down on the Imperial throne after tossing the body of this poor kid aside like a chunk of dead meat.
That, of course, assumed they didn’t start squabbling and murdering each other first.
Fortunately, their plans ran afoul of a scratch fleet Kris had pulled together and been training for way too short a time. Outnumbered at almost 4:1, the battle had been brutally hard and bloody, but Kris won it and most of the 8,000 rebel warships were blown out of space.
The rebel clan chieftains, seeing their Navy slaughtered, chose to run. By blessed poetic justice, they ran right into Admiral Kitano who was bringing reinforcements for Kris.
Now they knelt naked. The gray metal manacles and chains marred the near-perfect white of their skin. Their heads were bowed; their four legs chained in iron, their four arms bound behind their backs.
They were here to make a Most Sincere and Very Complete Apology to the young Emperor.
The prisoners formed four rows. Behind each of them stood two Iteeche. One wore a red cowl so long that it covered his head and the hem dragged on the ground. Each of those red-robed Iteeche held a crystal-clear bowl with a snake that slithered within. Kris wondered if that would be the means of the “apology.”
However, beside the Iteeche in red robes stood an Iteeche clothed in black. His clothes were tight, putting his bulging muscles on display for all to see. In his right hand, he held aloft a three- to four-meter-long pole with a half-meter long blade jutting from the top. Most of the tips were more like axes than the traditional human glaive they resembled. However, each was a bit different. Some had hooks on the side opposite the sharp blade. Others had spikes.
All the edges gleamed in the light leaving no doubt they had been sharpened to a fine cutting edge.
From among the administrators, Roth strode forward. He humbled himself before the Emperor, going down into a kowtow using the lowermost four of his elbows and knees.
The young boy Emperor may have given him a sign. If he did, Kris lost it in the folds of his oversize robes. Whatever it was, Roth rose and turned to the rebels.
He paused for a moment, glowering at the captives. Then Kris heard the slap of bare feet on the marble, and a naked slave ran out to humble himself before Roth. When told, he stood and unfolded a scroll for Roth to read from, lord fo
rbid that the high lord of a clan soil his hands by holding something.
Unlike most Iteeche declarations that began with long-winded listings of the honors of the recipient and the sender, Roth jumped right into the matter at hand.
“You kneel before Your Worshipful Emperor, besmirched with the shit of your own crimes.”
NELLY, DID YOU GET THAT RIGHT?
YES, KRIS. APPARENTLY, THERE IS NO LIMIT TO THE DEGRADATION THAT CAN BE HEAPED ON THE HEADS OF REBELS.
REBELS THAT LOSE.
IF YOU DON’T LOSE, YOU’RE NOT A REBEL. Nelly pointed out.
Kris went back to paying attention to Roth’s diatribe.
“The stink of your improper behavior rises to the blue of the sky. The offal of your actions sinks into the depths to mingle with the chaos of the abyss. Even as you kneel before the Emperor, none of you have said a word to repent for your misguided steps. Will you now tell His Worshipful Majesty that you repent of your false ways?”
Kris Longknife Page 1
