Kris Longknife Stalwart

by Mike Shepherd

  There, three Iteeche in the heavy robes of state lounged on pillows and cushions. With the Iteeche four legs and congested hip bone, chairs were out of the question. Kris was quick to provide stools for her Iteeche Navy officers, or cushions as the situation demanded.

  These three clan lords felt no need to provide the same accommodation to their Human guests.

  NELLY.

  KRIS, YOUR CHAIRS ARE ALREADY ON THEIR WAY. JUST SIT DOWN.

  Kris reached behind herself for the arms of a chair; they were there. She kept sitting down; the rest of the chair formed itself out of tiny drones as she settled into it. As she got comfortable, more small drones formed chairs to her right and left for her three staff.

  Other Smart Metal™ drones added to Kris's seat until it was a throne fit for a king.

  Across from her, the Iteeche clan lords did their best to keep their faces impassive but didn't quite succeed. The three lordlings advising their chiefs did a worse job of taking in the evidence of just what the Humans could do.

  However, the Iteeche Kris called Roth, clan chief of the Chap'sum'We did not take long to recover. His response was almost Human in its directness.

  "Good afternoon, Admiral Commanding the Imperial Combined Fleets. What do you intend to do about the affront to the Emperor's honor?"

  "Which affront to his honor are we talking about today?" Kris answered back. She refused to be knocked off balance by the clear slap at her own honor. Nor did she want to wander off into some wild rabbit chase after something she had no interest in.

  "The assault on the Imperial planet Arteccia, of course."

  "Oh, that assault on the Emperor's honor. Very likely I will do nothing about it."

  "Why not?" demanded one of the other clan chiefs.

  "Because responding to their initiative is exactly what they want me to do."

  "There are ten thousand rebel ships at Arteccia. Don't you intend to destroy them?" said the other clan chief.

  "In order to mount an attack on Arteccia, I would have to pull in the battle fleet presently guarding the Glorious Golden Eel system. That is one of the richest systems in the Empire."

  Kris studied the three Iteeche. Were they really that dumb? "That would lead to two possible outcomes. I could arrive at the Arteccia system with enough ships to defeat ten thousand rebel battlecruisers only to discover myself facing twenty thousand . . . or none."

  "Why twenty thousand?" the other of the clan lords asked.

  At least Kris had gotten them past demanding. That was worth one point in this game they were playing.

  "They know that the traditional Iteeche Way would require me to assault that system immediately. They know that we know they have ten thousand battlecruisers there. Of course, they would prepare a trap for us by doubling their strength."

  "And none?" Roth asked. His big head was leaning to the right as if he might actually be thinking about Kris's words. She sincerely hoped he was.

  "In order to launch an attack on the Arteccia system, I would have to strip the Glorious Golden Eel system of the battle fleet now defending it. If I was them, at just the right moment, I'd take the fleet from Arteccia and jump it over to the Glorious Golden Eel star and snap it up while it was undefended."

  Kris shook her head. "No, I will not be going anywhere close to the Arteccia system for a while."

  She glanced at each of the Iteeche clan chiefs. "The smart move for them would be to hit the Glorious Golden Eel system while we were concentrated somewhere else." Kris let that point hang for a moment until she had all the Iteeche nodding agreement.

  "The smart move for me would be to hit them when they are elsewhere. They have taken one of the Emperor's planets. I will take two of theirs. For that, I need ships, soldiers, and junior lordlings to run those planets. How many ships can you give me? There are ten Battleships of State at the space station above us. How many of them can I have?"

  Now the clan chiefs found themselves having to pull their beaks closed again. They eyed each other for a moment. Then Roth turned to Ron.

  "Why don't you take our guests to enjoy the flowers?"

  "Of course, My Most Eminent Chooser," Ron said, jumping to his feet.

  Kris did not get up.

  "You know I have dust motes listening to every word we say here. Do you really think I won't be listening to your discussions even if Ron walks me to the opposite wing to enjoy the flowers?"

  It was blunt of Kris to slap the clan lords with Human capabilities. Still, they were the ones who had installed the new shower and steam room in the basement to keep their secret talks from the Humans.

  Kris went on into the silence. "We have a saying among my people. 'Open covenants, openly arrived at.' Shall we try that this time?"

  "Openly arrived at?" Roth echoed.

  "You tell me your concerns," Kris said, "and I do my best to answer them. I tell you how many battlecruisers you have swinging around the space station and you tell me why I can't have them all. Then, we reach an agreement. Is there anything else we need to include in today's discussions?"

  Again, the three eyed each other. That was not so easy with the two other clan chiefs seated slightly to the rear of Roth, the senior clan chief.

  "You might find it easier to take each other's measure if you moved the cushions of the other two clan chiefs forward. Again, it is our custom that the head and the foot of the table often times have the most power. Usually because the two most powerful at the table refuse to admit who is sitting at the foot."

  Several Iteeche nodded their heads. Likely they did not consider it a joke, but funny or not, it got the meaning across.

  The two other clan lords rose to their feet. Freddy and Shorty rushed to move the pillows and cushions around to the front at Roth's right and left hands.

  Without looking at Roth, the two clan chiefs sat down, then they looked around the circle.

  "Gentlemen," Kris said.

  Jack got up and his chair slid over to Kris's right. Grampa Trouble and Jacques rose, and their chairs did the same. With a quick bow to Roth and a deeper bow to Kris, the men settled back into their chairs.

  "Now," Kris said, "As Admiral Commanding the Imperial Combined Fleets, I am authorized to speak in the Emperor's voice to request and require the clans to make flotillas available to the Combined Fleets. I have placed before you a request for sixty flotillas of battlecruisers from each of your clans. How soon can you provide them to me? I intend to sail in five days."

  "We cannot provide any ships to the Combined Fleets," Roth said, curtly.

  "Roth," Kris said, and paused while Nelly added all the fancy words to Roth's names and titles, "why do you say no to the voice of the Emperor? Are you prepared to offer an apology?"

  Kris was careful to make that a lower grade apology that didn't involve snakes and axes.

  "I cannot provide any ships to you because I have already provided every available ship to the Emperor's defense."

  "Roth, you have nearly a hundred flotillas, some three thousand ships at the different space stations in this system and the next. So do both the Quo and Abba clans."

  "Yes, we have those ships, but they are all assigned in the name of the Emperor to his defense. Maybe you do not remember, but in that victory you won in the Imperial Guard System and this, the Capital System, we lost nearly every ship we had defending the Emperor. We are a long way from replacing those losses. Had you not been off chasing around the Empire and come quicker to the battle, you might have won a quicker victory. We might not be in this situation. However, we are. The rebels have shown that they can amass ten thousand battlecruisers. You fear they may attack your most recent conquest. We fear they may attack us here."

  Roth took a moment to glance at his two fellow clan leaders. The Iteeche turned back to Kris. "Until the clans can defend the Emperor, we can second no ships to the Combined Fleets."

  "I was asked to defend a planet strongly staffed by the We Clan," Kris growled.

  "That does n
ot matter. The rebels played you. We lost many ships. Until we have replaced those dedicated to the defense of the Imperial Person, we can give you no ships."

  Kris leaned back in her chair, not breaking eye contact with Roth. Was it possible for an Iteeche to squirm? If so, it sure looked like Roth was struggling not to.

  Grampa Trouble leaned forward in his chair, but Kris rested a restraining hand.

  NELLY, GET ME ADMIRAL TONG.

  YES, MY MOST EMINENT ADMIRAL.

  HOW MANY SHIPS HAVE WE RECRUITED FROM THE MINOR CLANS?

  THREE FLOTILLAS. ONE FROM THE HAR'SUM'KEY CLAN AND TWO DRAWN FROM ONE SHIP HERE, THREE SHIPS FROM SMALLER CLANS.

  THANK YOU, TONG. KEEP ME UPDATED EVERY TIME YOU RAISE A NEW FLOTILLA. NEGOTIATIONS HERE ARE TOUGH.

  AM I TO TAKE IT THAT THE MAJOR CLANS ARE LESS THAN FORTHCOMING WITH SHIPS?

  YOU CAN.

  OH, THIS WILL AID MY RECRUITMENT. IF THE LARGER CLANS ARE NOT GOING TO HOG ALL THE MOST SENIOR LEADERSHIP POSITIONS, I CAN GET A LOT MORE ALLIES.

  DO IT, TONG.

  UNDERSTOOD.

  Kris allowed herself a moment to compose herself. "Fine, then. If your clans will not assist the Combined Fleets, I will make up the shortfall in battlecruisers from smaller clans."

  "Small clans?" the Abba clan chief barked.

  "Yes. I am told that the Har'sum'Key Clan has made a flotilla available to my fleet. We have formed two flotillas using ships from other smaller clans, septs, cadets, and families."

  "They cannot give you much of anything.

  MY ADMIRAL, WE NOW HAVE FIVE FLOTILLAS.

  "I have five flotillas," Kris said.

  "You said you only had three," Roth snapped.

  "That was then. Now I have five.

  SEVEN.

  "Make that seven."

  Seven in what? Half a minute?"

  "Twenty-two seconds," Nelly contributed. Then added. "Oh, Kris three clans just jumped in with five flotillas. They also control a Battleship of State. It's not a big one, but it will do."

  "Give us a moment to talk among ourselves," the clan chiefs said, hefting their bulks from the cushions.

  "Four more," Nelly said. "Kris, this is snowballing."

  Kris made no response as the three powerful Iteeche stomped away, signaling their three advisors on Human affairs to follow them.

  ADMIRAL TONG, IS THE COUNT REALLY UP TO ELEVEN?

  YES, MY MOST EMINENT ADMIRAL.

  CAN YOU TELL ME WHY EVERYONE IS GETTING ON MY BAND WAGON?

  CERTAINLY, MY MOST EMINENT ADMIRAL. IT IS BECAUSE THE SENIOR CLANS ARE NOT GETTING ON IT. THIS IS THE FIRST TIME THE MINOR CLANS HAVE HAD A CHANCE LIKE THIS SINCE, WELL, FOREVER. THEY KNOW YOU WILL GO FOR ONE OF THE LARGEST, MOST PRODUCTIVE SYSTEMS AND THEY WILL ALL GET A MUCH BIGGER CUT OF THE PIE THAN THEY WOULD IF ROTH AND HIS THIEVES WERE DIVIDING UP THE PURSE.

  HOW MANY DO YOU THINK WE COULD GET IF WE COLD-SHOULDERED THE BIG BOYS?

  I COULD HAVE YOU TWO HUNDRED FLOTILLAS, MAYBE MORE, IN THE NEXT THREE HOURS.

  THANK YOU, TONG. NOW, ANY SUGGESTIONS ON HOW PISSED THE THREE DUDES FROM THE LARGE CLANS WILL BE AT ALL OF US IF WE CUT THEM OUT OF THIS GAME?

  THEY WILL NOT LIKE IT.

  BUT CAN THEY LAND ON ALL THE MINOR CLANS?

  NO, BUT THEY CAN LAND ON YOU WHILE YOU ARE OUT WINNING BATTLES FOR OUR MOST WORSHIPFUL EMPEROR.

  HAVE THE REST OF YOU BEEN FOLLOWING THIS?

  YES. YEAH. OH, SHIT.

  On Nelly Net, Kris wasn't sure which of the three men around her had said what, but she figured they all three agreed with all three answers.

  "Any suggestions?"

  Grampa Trouble just grinned. "Couldn’t happen to a nicer bunch of assholes."

  "Jack?"

  "What Grampa Trouble said." Like Kris, Jack was trying to keep a clean mouth since you could never tell when the kids might be listening. Maybe she didn't need to protect them from their Mom and Dad so much as their Grampa and Gramma Trouble.

  "Jacques?"

  He was not so quick to respond. After three sighs, each deeper than the other he said. "This is risky. The major clans are used to holding almost all the cards. However, the huge number of volunteers you're getting tells me the underlings are not at all happy with the status quo. You've already defeated two clans by street fighting. Now you have the Imperial Guard allied with you. This could get very interesting. Very interesting. What do you plan to do?"

  "Walk out," Kris said simply.

  "Walk out on them while they're out talking?" Jacques said in shock.

  "That's what they're doing at this moment and this is the moment I feel like taking a walk. Any problems?"

  "You know, Princess," Grampa Trouble said, "kicking them in the cojones doesn't work here. They don't have any."

  "So it won't hurt them so much," Kris said, standing. Her seat immediately converted back to micro-quadcopters.

  Beside Kris, Jack was whispering softly to the air. Down in the courtyard, officers and sergeants shouted orders. That was immediately followed by the slapping of boots on ancient cobblestones and the squeak of tires as gun trucks and infantry assault vehicles moved out.

  Kris lead her team toward the elevator.

  "What are you doing?" Roth shouted when they came in sight of his six Iteeche squabbling among themselves.

  "Leaving. We are done here. We asked. You refused. We have no further business."

  "You can't."

  "I believe I am doing it." Kris said. "Nelly, can you get the elevator to open its doors?"

  "No problem," and the doors opened.

  "You are taking your fate in your own hands," one clan chief shouted.

  "That is where my fate always has been," Kris answered.

  "You will find it shattered to pieces," the other added.

  "We shall see whose fate shatters," Kris replied, as she entered the elevator.

  "You won't get enough ships from those minor clans," Roth shouted.

  "Want to place a bet?" Kris shouted, but the elevator door was closing.

  A Human and Iteeche Marine honor guard waited for them at the elevator gates opening to the courtyard. They marched Kris to her waiting palanquin, fancy as it was, and stood by while the escalator raised them up.

  Per protocol, Kris was the last to step onto the escalator. As she rose higher Roth shouted, "We will destroy you!"

  Kris knew she should not give in to certain urges. After all, she was a diplomat on a diplomatic mission. She was also a princess. Yet, she was also a sailor.

  She casually raised her right hand, then extended the middle finger.

  There was a lot of questioning among the three clan chiefs. Freddy and Shorty stepped way back. Unfortunately, Ron couldn't get away with feigning ignorance. He whispered into his Chooser’s auditory orifices what the hand motion meant.

  The Iteeche Lord exploded.

  "What's he saying?" Kris asked.

  "I don't know, Kris," Nelly answered, "but I've only heard these words on the street. I must do further research."

  "So, likely he is cussing me out."

  "I think so, Kris."

  Kris stood in the armored bubble of her fancy walking shed. From here, she had a good view of three clan chiefs who were not at all happy with her.

  Beside her, Grampa Trouble was chuckling.

  Kris turned to eye him.

  "I'm not saying a word," the old general said. "However, if I did it would be something like 'It’s so much fun to see those bastards get back some of the hell they've dished out’."

  Jack had nothing to add to the silence.

  Jacques looked around, studying the looks on all the Iteeche present. Their clan chief and the admiral had just exchanged major disparaging remarks. There should have been some reaction.

  There was none. Not so much as a twitch. Still, he was glad Kris's fancy ride was hardened against every weapon in the Iteeche inventory.

  For the ride home, Nelly had a counter on the window, keeping track of the number
of flotillas Admiral Tong had recruited. It hit 152 before they returned to the embassy.

  15

  Three days later, Kris was back aboard her flagship the Princess Royal. Today, she'd brought both Ruth and Johnnie aboard with her; the kids were so excited she felt she should have brought along strong string to wrap around their little toes. They were high as kites.

  The Princess Royal was far past the showboat size of Condition Able, but well short of Imperial Barge. For the moment, the Forward Lounge was just below the quarter deck, amidships, and laid out to support a huge meeting.

  Every admiral and ship captain of the two hundred flotillas that had volunteered to join Kris's Combined Fleet, all 6,400 of them, were on one side of the lounge or the balcony above. They gathered around tables on aisles that slowly stair-stepped up to give everyone a good view of the stage. The largest formations took over the front rows. The small division and single ships were in the back. Some were stuck in back areas of the balcony.

  Half the space on the other side of the main aisle on the lower deck held well over a thousand chiefs of small clans, large septs, cadets, and families. Being politicians, they'd brought along deputy lords and staff. Again, the larger clans and septs among them managed to get the tables closest to the stage. The lesser cadet branches and families took the more distant tables.

  Beyond them, the overflow of captains filled up the nose bleed tables.

  All were drinking Kris's beer, or the Iteeche equivalent. Kris had to mobilize a regiment of US Marines to keep the drinks coming. Fortunately, Each level of balconies had at least one bar.

  While the Iteeche drank and talked, most stared down at the two huge rotating drums. As best as they could, Ruth and Johnnie stood quietly and very officially beside the two slowly spinning cylindrical cages. Keeping Johnnie still required a small bag of cookies doled out by Abby's niece, Cara. Usually, the boy wanted a cookie in each hand, but Cara had him down to one.

  Kris stepped forward. She was in full dress whites with a ton of ribbons, sashes, and medals glittering in the floodlights aimed at the stage. She raised her hands and the noise subsided a bit.