Be it upon their heads.
Not that Kris expected any surprises. Ron had gotten to Wardhaven with sixteen battlecruisers; she should have no problem returning with forty-eight.
Kris had never had a chance to examine the Iteeche battlecruisers before. She turned to the lieutenant on sensors and asked him to give her a readout on the Iteeche ships. Quickly one wall filled up with scans and schematics, graphs and lists.
“The Iteeche construction is nearly a mirror of ours, Admiral,” the lieutenant reported as Kris had Nelly do her own check.
“Can we get any better take on those ships?” Nelly asked.
“This is the best we can get off the antennas we’ve got, Admiral.”
“We don’t have a research team, at least not a star gazing team,” Nelly pointed out.
DAMN, Kris breathed. I THOUGHT THEY STILL HAD WHAT WE HAD FIVE YEARS AGO?
I’M SORRY KRIS. I DIDN’T CHECK UNTIL JUST NOW.
AND I DIDN’T ASK YOU TO.
WHERE WE’RE GOING IS SUPPOSED TO BE FULLY CHARTED.
AND WE’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO HAVE TO GET A FULL READ OUT ON ANY ATTACKERS. YES, I KNOW, NELLY.
“Okay, Lieutenant, tell me what you’ve got.”
“Half are carrying 24-inch lasers, the other half only 22-inchers. Their reactors are a bit more powerful than ours. Assuming that they’ve got their capacitors charged to the full, they don’t carry quite the charge ours do.”
“So, a shorter laser burst, but maybe a faster reload.”
“It would appear so, ma’am.”
“Can you get any readout from their Smart Metal or crystal armor?” Kris asked.
“It looks like they’re carrying more Smart Metal than we are, but I’m not getting any singing in the bandwidth for crystal.”
“They don’t have any?” Jack said.
“Apparently not,” the lieutenant repeated.
“So, they got Smart Metal for their power generation secret, but it appears we humans haven’t told them anything about how to build beam weapons or crystal armor,” Kris said, summing it up.
“Paranoid, anyone?” Abby asked no one.
“If you put Ray Longknife and Crossie in a barrel,” Kris growled, naming the chief of Intelligence, “and roll them downhill, you’ll have a paranoid bastard on top all the way down.”
“You think you should maybe stop saying things like that, baby duck?” Abby drawled. “What with you now being, what do they call it, the embodiment of his presence.”
Kris shrugged; eyed the array of departing ships and found it acceptable, if not all good. “Let’s get some chow. I figure this trip out is the last chance any of us will have to catch up on our sleep, time with our kids or anything else human for a very long time. Let’s take it.”
[DA3]
Chapter 15
Twenty days later, they had made several easy jumps and were across the old demilitarized zone into the Empire. Kris had spent the time getting eight hours sleep a night, enjoying her kids and reading the classics. Iteeche classics. Nelly and Ron were expanding their translation program by converting to Standard the classic books that Iteeche had been reading for thousands of years.
Nelly also threw in a few new ones to make sure that Kris didn’t sound like a dinosaur.
What Kris noticed not happening were fleet drills. The skipper of the Princess Royal saw to it that his crew were drilled thoroughly. Twice a week, all hands had abandon ship drills, which included every civilian on board.
The kids loved it.
The ship drilled, but the divisions and squadrons stayed steadily in line behind the task force flag. Every day or so, an itch would get to bothering Kris, and she’d scratch it by studying the fleet array.
Squadron 13 was in line at precisely five hundred kilometers, one right behind the other. You could draw a straight line from first to last and none in between would be more than half a meter either way. Not so for the battlecruisers not under Commodore Ajax’s command. The interval varied from 475 to 530 kilometers and ships were as much as ten kilometers out of line.
Kris was aware that most of her fleet had been chosen from shiny new construction to show the flag. Most of the ships had little more time in space beyond their shakedown cruise. Still, they ought to be better at maintaining formation than this
All of which reminded Kris of why she’d down-checked both of Admiral Darlan’s commands during readiness inspections.
How did he get this assignment? Kris asked herself again and again. He said he had friends in high places, and it was not like King Raymond could give a direct order to the Navy as to who should get this or that command. Maybe Kris had been too busy taking care of important matters to check with her own friends in high places.
Still, she had to remind herself that she was the passenger here, and a diplomat on her way on a diplomatic mission. That she was a Grand Admiral wasn’t supposed to matter.
“Like hell it doesn’t matters. Nelly, draft a scathing letter for my signature.”
“Shall I draft it and send it, Kris?”
“No, let me see the copy first.”
“So, this is one of those memos I write, you read, and then it calms you down, huh?”
Kris scowled. “Something like that.”
Nelly drafted a very blistering letter; reading it did help Kris calm down. In the end, Kris saved the letter to be reconsidered the next time Vice Admiral Darlan frosted her buns.
The next jump took them deep into Iteeche territory, halfway to the capital. They were approaching the flip over point, midway between the next jump and their last when the jump ahead of them began spitting out battlecruisers.
Kris stood on her flag bridge as the chief on sensors counted out the arrivals. He stopped at sixty-four. “They’re putting on one gee and heading for us.”
“Comm, get me the Red Sunset on the Water,” Kris ordered, and was quickly connected to Ron’s flagship.
“Were you expecting a greeting committee before we reached the capital system?” she asked.
“No. At least there were no plans before I left.”
“Any idea why plans might have changed?”
“Not that I can think of,” sounded too evasive for Kris’s tastes. She rang off.
“Chief, I want to know how those sixty-four ships match up against the sixteen Iteeche ships with us.”
“Aye, aye, ma’am,” she said and eyed her boards. “Reactors seem to fall into two different types, with only minor variations from the ones with us,” she said, slowly. “Half have 24-inch lasers, the other half are 22-inchers. Those are split between the two types of reactors. Also, one reactor type is larger than our 24 or 22-inch standard battlecruiser. The other is a bit smaller.”
“So, we’re looking at two different production lines,” Jack said.
“If you insist I bet, I’d bet on that,” sensors replied.
“Oh,” the sensor chief exclaimed, just as the lieutenant pulled out a seat at the console beside her. “Admiral, we’ve got ships coming through the jump behind us.”
“What kind of ships?” Kris demanded.
“Battlecruisers, Admiral,” the lieutenant reported.
“They are slightly different from the group ahead of us,” the chief added.
“So, another bunch of squids want into our party,” Jack muttered to Kris.
She eyed him, he wasn’t the type to call the Iteeche names. “You don’t like this?” she asked him.
“Not at all. Even if we assume Ron is in the dark and not intentionally keeping us there, now we’ve got unknowns both in front of us and behind.”
“Nelly?” Kris asked.
“I know nothing more than you do, Kris. Belay that. We’re intercepting a message to Ron. It’s from the signal buoy of the jump we came through yesterday. Somebody must have waited until we got well away and sent it to reach us now.”
“We’re at the worst time,” Jack pointed out.
“Yeah,” Kris said, dryly. “N
elly, I sure would like a translation of that message.”
“I’m trying to. The opening is full of flowers and unicorns, such as the Iteeche have them, and . . . oh, they just got to the point.”
“And it is?” Kris asked.
“They very politely invite Ron to surrender his ships and ours to them or they will blast us out of space.”
“How diplomatic of them,” Jacques, ever the sociologist, said.
“Nelly, have you been passing along your new translation program to all the ships of the fleet?”
“Yes, Kris.”
“So Vice Admiral Darlan’s flag could have just as easily picked up the message and translated it.”
“Yes, Kris.”
Kris thought. She thought for a full five seconds about how she was a passenger and shouldn’t put her oar in another admiral’s water. Another admiral’s battle.
She was just opening her mouth when the Princess Royal’s battle claxon began to sound. “All hand to battle stations. This is not a drill.”
“Nelly, get me the command network.”
“You’re piped in.”
“Set course for the jump ahead of us. Prepare to engage the sixty-four possible hostiles. Acceleration is one point five gees,” came in a strained voice that was clearly Admiral Darlan’s.
Kris shot a look at the system display on her closest wall. It showed the three fleets and the layout of the system. She shook her head.
“That is a stupid order,” she snapped. “Nelly, put me on the command net.”
‘You’re on, Kris.”
She drew in a deep breath, gave Jack a quick glance and got a slow nod of his head, with a thumbs up before the second nod.
Her Highness, Grand Admiral Kris Longknife prepared to get herself in a whole lot of trouble. She had to if she was to save her kids’ lives. Her kids and a whole lot of other people.
Chapter 16
“Belay that order,” Kris said, her command voice at full throttle.
“What are you doing on my command net?” Vice Admiral Jean Darlan demanded.
“Saving all our hides. That is an unwise order,” Kris said, firmly.
“You can’t countermand my order,” the admiral screamed back at Kris. “You aren’t in the chain of command. No one here has to listen to a word you say.”
Commanders don’t argue on the command net. Battle command was not a debating society.
But what else can I do?
“They better listen, because you’re about to get them all killed.” Kris snapped back.
“I am not,” was huffed in offended pride. “They have divided their forces, leaving them open for defeat in detail. I will attack half of them, then press on to the Imperial capital, leaving the others in our dust.”
“You’re making two assumptions, Vice Admiral,” Kris emphasized the Vice. “One, are you sure there aren’t more ships waiting to jump through that far jump? If there are, you’re in a headlong charge you won’t be able to stop for much longer.”
Kris let those words sink in slowly. In front of her, her view of the command net was expanding. Initially, she’d been looking at Vice Admiral Darlan and the two rear admirals commanding Task Force 1 and 2 of the fleet. Now, the commodores commanding the four squadrons were switching from listening mode to looking as well.
Kris spotted Commodore Ajax. The woman looked very purposely at one section of the screen facing her. Who was she so intent on: Kris or Darlan?
Kris went on. “Second point is the terrain. If you’d studied several of my battles, you would have realized the significance of the planet just off our course. In fifteen to twenty hours, they can change course to swing around it and be headed back to the jump, turning your charge through with only a few seconds of shooting into a long, drawn-out, gun duel with them having thirty-two 24-inch battlecruisers to our twenty-four. They’ve got the same odds with the smaller ships. You won’t get to the capital. You’ll be blown to it.”
Now Ajax was nodding agreement. So was the other young commodore who had come up in battlecruisers. Unfortunately, Kris was butting heads with five others who had transferred into battlecruisers. How many had done it for love of a battlecruisers or to get rank fast before returning to the Battle Force?
“This is my battle, Ambassador,” the Vice Admiral spat the word.
How did he make such a long word into a four letter one?
Kris needed to change the odds.
JACK, CAN YOU CONTACT THE SKIPPERS OF THE MARINE DETACHMENTS ON THE FLAGSHIPS? she said on Nelly Net.
I’VE ALREADY GOT THE LT ON THE BOLD MOVING TOWARD THE BRIDGE WITH A SQUAD OF MARINES UNDER ARMS.
YOU BETTER DO THE SAME FOR THE TASK FORCE FLAGSHIPS.
I’LL GO YOU ONE BETTER AND HAVE MARINES DOUBLE TIMING IT FOR ALL THE FLAG BRIDGES.
THANKS.
“Vice Admiral,” Kris began, trying to sound reasonable while she bought time for Marines to settle some Navy hash. “It is a poor man who cannot take advice when it is offered from someone with experience. We need to wear away from this battle. Gain space and distance before we engage these interlopers. This fleet,” Kris was oh so careful not to say your fleet, “has not tested itself. Can these ships go to Condition Zed or put on combat revolutions smoothly?”
Kris noted how Ajax and the other young commodore rolled their eyes at that one. Someone else wasn’t happy with the level of training in this fleet.
“Ambassador,” Darlan spat. “You may get away with all your high and mighty carrying on when you’ve got the king and money to hide behind, but here, we’re Navy, and we follow the orders given us by our lawful superiors. You are not the lawful superior to any Sailor here, so why don’t you just run along and play patty-cake with those weak-wristed diplomats of yours and we Navy will see that you get there.”
The admiral turned to glance at something behind him. “What are you doing on my flag bridge? Who ordered you here?”
“I did, Admiral,” Lieutenant General Jack Montoya, Royal USMC said, stepping into view beside Kris.
“Well, get them out of here.”
On all six other flag bridges, there were similar reactions to the arrival of armed Marines.
“Vice Admiral Darlan, as Her Royal Highness and Grand Admiral in the U.S. fleet, I have lost confidence in your ability to exercise your command of my escort. There are five stars on my flag to your three. You are relieved and may stand down.”
“I will not. You can’t do this.”
“I just have,” Kris said, trying to keep her face bland Navy granite.
“I won’t have this.”
“Lieutenant,” Jack said, “please accompany Admiral Darlan to his quarters. Post a guard and see that he stays there.”
“Aye, aye, General,” the Marine lieutenant replied and stepped forward, a big corporal at his side to take the admiral’s elbow. “Please come with me, sir.”
Admiral Darlan yanked his elbow away from the lieutenant’s grasp.
“Don’t you touch me! You are insubordinate in the face of hostile fire! I’ll have you shot!”
“No, sir, I’m following a lawful order from a superior officer, sir.” The lieutenant made the last “sir” sound like they were for something that a cat just hacked up.
The lieutenant grabbed one elbow, the corporal grabbed the other, and the admiral found himself being hustled from his flag bridge.
“You can’t do this! I have friends in high places! You’ll all be shot for this!” were finally cut off when the bridge hatch closed.
Kris had had to make an extra effort to get the Marine platoons on each of her flagships. Then she had considered then a reserve if she got into trouble among the Iteeche. Well, she was having a problem with the Iteeche, all right, and needing the Marines to settle her human troubles.
Kris eyed the admiral’s chief of staff. She was a young captain. She’d fought with Kris on Alwa and come home for personal reasons. “Do you have any questions, Captain Tosan?
; “No, ma’am. Will you want staff support from us?”
“Yes, please. As usual, my staff is thin on the ground.”
“Yes, ma’am, I remember comments about that,” the captain said with a knowing smile.
“Thank you,” Kris said, and turned to the two rear admirals who commanded the task forces. “Set course for the third jump out of this system. Fleet acceleration is one point five gees. Course is half deceleration, half reaching for the jump. Any questions?”
“You’re going to run away?” one admiral asked.
“Yes. We need to buy time to drill our ships and get them ready for combat before engaging an enemy that outnumbers us three to two.”
“But if we give them that time, they may combine their forces and we’ll be facing odds of three to one,” the other admiral put in.
“Maybe they will. Maybe they won’t. That is a risk I am willing to take,” Kris said.
Both men shook their heads; the other continued speaking. “Ma’am, you are not only asking us to follow what many would say is an illegal order, but also one that violates one of the most basic tenet of military strategy as it has been known for thousands of years.”
Kris waited to see where this was going. There were many arguments she could raise. I know what I’m doing. I’ve done it before. I’ve thrown the book away and still won battles. Kris said nothing, leaving the men to stew in their own juices.
Both the men eyed each other, then as one they turned their back on Kris and walked from their bridge. The Marines fell in line behind them, not so much guarding them as providing an honor guard.
Now Kris turned to the four squadron commanders. “Have you anything to say?”
The two retread commodores eyed each other, then turned and also marched away.
Kris took in a deep breath, frowning at the situation she now faced.
Kris Longknife - Emissary Page 11