Kris Longknife Stalwart

by Mike Shepherd

  "Good, good, good," Admiral Zom said, almost giddy with excitement.

  "When I cut down to two gees or less, have every battlecruiser break out four of its longboats. Get them attached to the aft hull covering the cardinal points of the compass. Rig them into the directional jets. We'll see how that Longknife Human takes to that surprise."

  "Very interesting, My Most Eminent Admiral," Number One said.

  "There's one thing more," the admiral said. "An idea that flit across my mind, but it's just outside of reach. Let me think."

  The bridge fell silent around him.

  I was thinking about giving our maneuvering jets more power . . .. About how we attach the longboats to add their rocket motors to those jets . . .. If we attached them to our hull that spun it would make a mess of any vector we added to the ship . . .. They had to be attached to a stable part of the ship's hull.

  "Computer, how long do our lasers fire before they empty their capacitors?"

  "Six seconds, Admiral."

  "So, we need our hulls to rotate fully in six seconds to distribute the heat from a hit."

  "So it would seem," Number One staff officer said.

  "Yes!" Admiral Zom shouted. "Yes! We have been rotating our hulls too slowly. Number One, send to all ships: ‘When next we go into battle, all ships will rotate their hulls twenty times a minute’."

  "To hear is to make it so," Number One staff officer said, and began to talk into his comm unit.

  Admiral Zom relaxed into his high gee couch. He had done it. He had surprises for the Longknife Human that could put her in a fine fish stew.

  "Number One," he said.

  "Yes, My Most Eminent Admiral."

  "What are our three most damaged ships?"

  "Ah," he said, and glanced at his own board, "the Emperor Boos 213, Emperor Donha 412, and the Warriors of Domm 387. Why?"

  "Pass them our observation that our ships need more reaction motors and how we're getting them. Surely they can do better. Also, that hull revolutions need to be at least twenty times a minute. If we are to take six seconds of laser hits, we need to distribute the energy quickly."

  "At least 20 times a minute? If it's shorter won't that mean they are burning the same area?"

  "No. Ships are moving. Lasers are moving. If the laser beam starts hitting at one place and that place comes back again, the beam will likely be hitting forward or aft of that place."

  "Oh," Number One officer said.

  Admiral Zom could almost see the light turning on behind his eyes.

  "Yes, yes. Immediately, My Most Eminent and Thoughtful Admiral. I shall send the message immediately." He again began talking into his comm unit.

  "One more thing, Number One," Admiral Zom said. "For the duration of this battle, please just respond to me as admiral. With lasers traveling at the speed of light, we can't afford for you to tie up so much time just saying 'Yes,' or something. Understand?"

  "Yes, My Most . . . ah, Admiral." Number One staff officer sputtered.

  "Good, now send your message to those three ships and order them to make for three different jumps out of this system. That message must get back to Navy Clan Central. If we fail, someone else may succeed."

  "Yes, Admiral, but we will not fail."

  "Then three badly damaged ships will not matter that much."

  While Number One staff officer sent his message and orders, Admiral Zom relaxed into his water-cushioned couch. He had done a very good job of examining what went wrong during his first encounter with the Longknife Human and her fleet of wonder ships. This truly was the best day of his life.

  If he succeeded in winning this coming battle, songs would be sung about him for a thousand years. Even if he failed, he would be remembered in song as the admiral who discovered how the Human had been beating the ships of the true Emperor and helped the next admiral to victory.

  He pulled another candied yam from the bag beside his couch and unwrapped it. Again, he chewed it carefully. He also drank plenty of water. A big battle was coming. He wanted nothing to detract from his performance when it did.

  65

  Kris Longknife balanced her time between her battle board and breaks in the loving clutches of her high gee egg. While gees of 1.75 on a human were not as bad as the equivalent two gees for an Iteeche, it was still no walk in the park.

  The galley provided coffee, tea, and meatloaf sandwiches. They sent the rations around on a cart that drove itself and stepped over hatch combings. At this point, no one left their battle station.

  Some did what maintenance needed doing. Some napped. There were a few that were actually able to persuade their chiefs that they were 4.0 in both their equipment and last drill. Now they played a video game from inside their eggs.

  Kris had a hard time believing that any chief could get that soft, but she discovered that more gun crews were bringing their lasers up to 4.0 and maxing out their drills so they too could play the game of their choice.

  Most of them were losing themselves in wild games of cartoon auto chasing with characters from their childhood tossing bombs at each other.

  It kept the mind off of the coming murder and mayhem.

  Kris wished she and Jack could lose themselves in one of the video games that their kids loved. Admirals could wish it, but admirals didn't often get what they wished.

  "How do you think he's going to work it?" Kris asked Jack and Nelly. "Chase us with an acceleration of 3.5 gees, then flip and decelerate at 3.5 gees until he matches course with us? Then drop down to our deceleration and go at us with every laser he's got?"

  "He could do that," Jack said, thoughtfully. "However, he'd be going into a shot with his crews exhausted from the heavy gees of the approach. I don't know what they're using for high gee stations, but they're never as good as the advertising from the company that manufactured them. If he's smart, he'll allow some time to fix and mend any gear that's come loose. If he hasn't tied his lasers down tight, all this high gee and other honking around has got to have worked all sorts of stuff loose."

  Kris nodded. "We've had the last day to dial our gear in to damn near perfect. When have his crews been able to get out of their high gee stations to do any maintenance? He passed awfully close to that gas giant. The ride through the upper reaches of its atmosphere must have been bumpy as hell. It couldn't have been easy on gear or crews."

  "Yep," Jack said. "They didn't do so good on their last shoot. What was our kill ratio, fifty-to-one?"

  "Close enough that I will not correct you," Nelly said.

  Her computer was learning to be a real girl, Kris thought, then said, "Thank you, Nelly."

  "For telling Jack he was right, or for not correcting him to the thirteenth decimal?"

  "Both," Kris said, but her focus was on her battle board. "What's he doing? What did he learn from all the casualties he suffered in that one-minute shoot? What surprise is the enemy thinking up?"

  "Kris," Jack said, "I have no idea how to answer any of your questions. The ball is in his court. We've done about everything we can do for the coming fight. Now we just wait for him to come up, then blow him away. He decides where and when we fight. We decide how fast he dies."

  Kris made a face, not easy to do when her body weighed three-quarters more than normal. "He's messing with me. If I want to make orbit, I have to correct my course to one aimed forward of our present course."

  "That is obvious," Nelly said, and estimated the course to put them in orbit around their target planet if they changed it now."

  "But when he comes up," Kris said, "he comes up close. Very close."

  Nelly added a line showing that if the enemy continued on the course he was on presently, there would be a bit more than a hundred thousand kilometers between the two fleets when they heaved into range.

  "Of course," Nelly said, "range for the 24-inch lasers is 270,000 kilometers. You could use his final approach to shoot up his stern and blow up reactors while he's on final approach. He'll be very vulnerab
le then."

  Kris thought on that for a long moment.

  "It seems to me," Jack said, "that we want to join battle as soon as we can. Shoot him up, then adjust course for Longnae 4 when he's out of the way."

  "So, we stay to our present 1.75 gee deceleration and let him catch up," Kris said. "That way, after the shoot we'd have more time to decelerate. We could use something decent like 2.5 gees."

  "It all depends on when he chooses to make contact," Nelly said.

  "Or we could slam on the brakes and make him catch up with us sooner," Kris said. "Admiral Tong?"

  "Yes, Admiral?" came immediately on net.

  "Considering the quality of your high gee stations, could your crews bear a 4.5 gee deceleration?"

  "We have tested it. It is very hard on our hips and shoulders."

  "Still, you have done it. How long do you think you could tolerate it?"

  "I would prefer that you don't go harder than four gees deceleration. Remember, our hips and shoulders evolved for one gee straight down, not four or more gees applied to our backs. Even if the back is cushioned so very well in one of the high gee stations you Humans have designed and spun out for us, it is hard on us."

  "Understood," Kris said. "No more than four gees. You'd prefer we hold it to 3.5 gees."

  "Very much prefer," Admiral Tong added.

  "Okay. Thank you for your advice, Admiral," Kris said. "Nelly, remind me not to put on more than three Human gees."

  "Yes, Kris."

  However, Kris was already lost, meditating on the lines across her battle board. Several hundred of the cruisers had skidded around Longnae 5 and were now working hard to set a course for Longnae 7. They had all cut their acceleration down to one gee, Iteeche. Calculations showed them arriving at the ice giant well after Kris's troop ships swung around it and headed for Longnae 4. That was not a problem.

  The problem was all the ships that had made it around the gas giant and were now accelerating for her fleet. Did she want to bring them to battle sooner or later? Sooner meant decelerating more now with less to do later.

  Delaying battle meant continuing her light deceleration for as long as she dared, then going to high gee deceleration in order to make orbit around Longnae 4.

  Which to choose?

  Delaying heavy deceleration risked her getting close to the planet and having her need to make orbit dictate her course. Raising the deceleration now gave her more options for maneuvering her fleet in battle.

  Really, there was only one option.

  "Comm, get me Admiral Tong."

  "Aye, aye, ma'am."

  "Yes, Admiral," Tong said from the main screen.

  "I've decided to join battle sooner rather than later. I'd like to take the fleet up to three gees, Iteeche, deceleration. Do you have any problem with that?"

  "No, Admiral. We performed maintenance when you took us to two gees deceleration. We are ready now, ma'am."

  "Very good, Admiral Tong. Take the fleet to 3.0 gees."

  "Aye, aye, ma'am."

  A few moments later, the 1MC announced, "All hands, prepare for 2.5 gees in five minutes. If you aren't in your egg, strip down and lock in. If you must, you can take your teddy bear."

  The PA system closed down with an audible click. No doubt another boson's mate would not be making announcements for a while.

  Still, it got the needed laugh from all hands on Kris's flag bridge. After the battle, she'd have to cautiously ask the skipper to go lenient on the miscreant if the chief brought her up at Captain's Mast.

  Once again, Kris pulled off her shipsuit and slipped into her egg. It was tempting to take a moment to give Jack a hug and a kiss, but PDAs were discouraged, and a naked admiral had to provide some leadership.

  He winked at her. Maybe they'd been married long enough for him to read her mind.

  She winked back.

  Surviving the way Kris fought battles took a lot of accommodation for the flesh and blood that did the fighting.

  Settled into place, Kris again found herself staring at her battle board. Only now, the vision was projected onto the video screen in front of her egg. For now, she sat half up. As acceleration grew more brutal, she'd recline more and the screen would become the faceplate of her egg.

  The high gee station doubled as a survival pod. If worse came to worse, the pod would become airtight and the ship would expel her pod and as many others as time allowed in the brief interval between the captain hitting the abandon ship button and the ship's destruction. If the reactors went wild and released their plasma, there would be little time.

  Still, sailors fought harder when they felt they had a chance of surviving the battle.

  Around her, watch standers watched dials and lights. These were not games being played in this workspace.

  Now, rather, the most deadly game was afoot. The game of war that decided empires.

  66

  Admiral Zom scowled at his board. He was still accelerating at 3.5 gees, playing catch up with the Longknife Human's fleet.

  Now, she had changed the game.

  Before his eyes, the enemy fleet began to decelerate at three gees, slowing themselves down and shortening the amount of time it would take his fleet to catch up with her ships.

  Was that what he wanted?

  It did afford him more options for his approach. He could slow his deceleration down at some point to 1.5 gee. That would make it easier to rig out the longboats he intended to use to augment his maneuvering jets.

  Still, should he do that sooner or later?

  If he did it later, it could be combined with a last check of the battle efficiency of his lasers and gear. If he did it sooner, any repairs they made could be undone.

  Clearly, he'd do it later.

  But not too close to the enemy. If he slowed and set about making his ships more battle ready, she could slam on the breaks and commence firing when he was least ready for it. Or worse, he might have to begin dodging and dancing, leaving his longboats behind in his wake.

  No, the low gee period would have to be close to the shoot, but not too close.

  Zom found himself wondered about that young plebe that was him on his first day at the academy. If he had known then that his career choice would put him in this seat at this time with a battle breathing down his neck, would he have fled back to his Chooser's palace quarters? Would he have begged for another choice for his life?

  He slowly shook his head. From the first time he'd heard the battle songs of old at the Palace of Learning, he'd wanted to pace a bridge under fire. For as long as he remembered, he'd dreamed of winning the fight that killed one dynasty and spawned another

  Now, here he was. Of course, he wasn't pacing his flag bridge, but forced to recline under the brutal weight of 3.5 gees. Still, he was where he had always dreamed of being. This was his time. He would not fail.

  For a long time, he gazed at his battle board. Finally, he hit the button and let the couch recline all the way. He set an alarm to make sure he was awake in an hour. That was when he would order the fleet to flip and begin deceleration. That deceleration would have to be at the same 3.5 gees that his acceleration had been. Then, an hour before he got in range of the enemy fleet, he'd slow to a workable deceleration and order maintenance and the launching of the longboats.

  Admiral Zom had made his decision. He had his plan. He relaxed into his high gee couch a contented man.

  67

  Admiral Kris Longknife watched the vector of the enemy fleet as it extended. It held steady, reaching out for her ships as it put on more and more velocity at an acceleration of 3.5 gees, Iteeche. Now the distance between them narrowed at a much faster pace as she bled off velocity at three gees Iteeche.

  That was the way she needed to think. Most of her fleet were Iteeche. It was their fragile shoulders and hips that limited her acceleration and deceleration. Strange, Kris had always considered the human backbone a weakness. It had certainly been a source of great discomfort when she was heavi
ly pregnant with Ruthie.

  Now, however, the human hip, backbone, and shoulder could more easily be cushioned against high gees. Interesting how evolutionary decisions made half a billion years ago when both species were little more than unicellular animals could come back to bite them on the ass now.

  The enemy admiral had had an hour to respond to Kris's command to increase the rate of closure. To cut down on the amount of time before they came in range of each other and began slashing at one another with gigajoule lasers.

  Apparently, he was content to hurry tens of thousands of intelligent lives out of this world.

  Kris really wished she could find a way to persuade him to surrender. It would save a lot of pain and death. Of course, there was no way she would surrender to him, so she really could not expect him to haul down the colors and run up a white flag.

  Indeed, if he broke off the attack and tried to run away now, she'd have to pursue him. She couldn't have a fleet this big joining with another fleet. She had this chunk of the rebel forces in her crosshairs, she had to destroy it now.

  "Captain," she called to the head of the flag bridge watch.

  "Yes, Admiral?"

  "I may take a nap. The enemy fleet should flip over and begin deceleration soon. Don't wake me if that happens. However, if they change their acceleration or deceleration from 3.5 gees, Iteeche, make sure I'm awake and notice it. Understood?"

  "Yes, ma'am."

  Kris leaned back in her egg until she was on her back. Her battle board moved with her until it was directly above her. She continued to stare at it, mulling over options, alternatives, and potential disasters, both for her and him. She felt her mind entering a kind of meditative state.

  Before long, she'd slipped away into rest.

  68

  Admiral Zom's alarm woke him in time to review the situation before his fleet flipped ships and began decelerating. The enemy fleet was still decelerating at three gees. If he didn't begin decelerating too, the two fleets would whiz by each other again.