Kris Longknife 13 - Unrelenting

by Mike Shepherd

  “I and my children were constantly observing each of the pregnant women on Wasp. We adjusted them in real time,” Nelly said proudly.

  “I hope the Princess Royal’s and Lion’s pregger detachment are as well taken care of.”

  “I passed my app to their main computer before they sailed. If those computers had enough excess capacity, they should.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Kris and Doc Meade asked at the same time.

  “You two had enough to worry about,” Nelly answered.

  “The women were free to ask for shore duty,” Kris said.

  “I wonder why none have,” Doc Meade said.

  “I don’t think they want to leave their shipmates in a jam,” Nelly said. “I’m a computer, but I understand loyalty.”

  “Yes, you do,” Kris agreed.

  “So, I hear we got company coming,” the doc told Kris.

  “Which company?”

  “We all know about System X. It’s the next system over that has everyone abuzz. Anything you want to tell your doc?”

  “You know more than I do. All I know is the tiny bit that’s official. No doubt the grapevine knows more.”

  “No doubt. Is it true that the jump buoy can’t make hide nor hair of the reactors?”

  “Some of them,” Kris admitted. “I’m told that some of the reactors have a signature close to ours, but none of them fit anything we’ve got. Or had when the last ship headed this way.”

  “You think it’s that something new I heard about?”

  “That something new that you shouldn’t have heard about?” Kris asked right back.

  “Yeah. Good grapevine. If only I could turn it into decent wine.”

  “You get enough whine out of it,” Kris said.

  “And she complains about my jokes,” Nelly complained.

  “Enough, I’ve got more patients than you, and I need to see how our future moms made out on this bad trip. Nurse, help the admiral to get her feet back on the deck.”

  “Coming, Doctor slave driver,” came from the hall.

  “You get that sort of lip, too?”

  “We never should have abolished the cat-o’-nine-tails,” the doc said.

  Kris’s next stop was Admiral Benson. “Thanks for holding the fort while I was out blowing shit up.”

  “You’re welcome, though for a while there, I was afraid someone was going to have fun blowing my shit up. It looks bad out around System X. I hear you did good.”

  “Another base ship gone, but only eighty-two of the warships. No doubt the rest will sign on with the other base ship, and trot around to System X to stand in line to force us back.”

  “There have been fewer suicide boats the last few days. You think they’ll fold their cards and try something more conventional?”

  “Even when they stand up and fight, they’re using suicide tactics. Did you see my report about Marine grenade launchers taking down boarders? At least I’m thinking of them as boarders, though I assume if they get aboard, they’ll just blow a hole in the ship when they blow themselves away.”

  “Don’t bet on it. If they can blow a hole in the ship, they can get inside. Your Marines may earn their pay the old-fashioned way.”

  “Yeah. Tell me, how are your new frigates coming along?”

  “We got two of the Victorious class fitting out. I’ve laid down Courageous and Illustrious in the docks they vacated.”

  “You’re not closing up shop?”

  “Why should I? The mines are still shipping ore. The fabs are still sending us what we need for ships. I intend to be hatching ships right up to the minute you tell us to down tools and fight those ships for our lives. Any idea when that will be?”

  “Everyone wants to know. Would it bother you if I admitted I don’t know?”

  “Nope, though it might worry me to think there is an honest Longknife in the batch.”

  “I was born under a dark moon,” Kris said. “The black sheep of the family.”

  “We all must bear our crosses. Speaking of which, I’ve got work to be attending to. Call me if you need me.”

  “Don’t I always?” Kris said, and made her way to the meeting she dreaded.

  She presented herself unannounced at the quarterdeck of the George Washington, but she doubted she was unexpected. The Officer of the Deck turned her over to an ensign, who headed off as if she already had specific orders for when the fleet’s admiral showed up.

  Kris was glad for a native guide. While all the Rim-built frigates were laid out to a common scheme, Kris could have easily gotten lost among the George Washington’s twists and turns. The ensign brought Kris not to the admiral’s quarters, but to a door with CHIEF OF STAFF, TASK FORCE 7 painted on it. The ensign rapped once, was told “Enter,” and opened the door for Kris.

  “Admiral commanding Alwa Sector, sir,” she said, waiting while Kris entered, then firmly shut the door behind her.

  “Admiral, thank you for coming,” Captain Nottingham said, standing. “Computer, create a comfortable chair with leg support.”

  The captain pointed Kris at a recliner that formed itself to her shape and began gently massaging her feet as she sat.

  “The chair is patterned after one my wife liked when she was expecting,” the captain said, retaking his own seat. “I understand swelling of the legs is a bitch.”

  “And was she a bitch?” Kris asked, remembering Admiral Yi’s own comments.

  “My wife was the best thing that ever happened to me. Unfortunately, she died of a stroke shortly after our daughter’s birth.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” Kris said, hating the automatic way the words came out.

  “I likely would not have volunteered for this duty if she were still waiting for me at home, but you aren’t here to talk to me about my problems, are you, Admiral?”

  “No.”

  “He’s not a bad man, Admiral. Admiral Yi is a good administrator. He got this fleet into the shape it is. The shape you fought it last week. They’re good ships. Good crews.”

  “Then what went wrong?”

  Now it was the captain’s turn to lean back in his chair. “Jim is very knowledgeable about ships, war, and how they’ve been fought for three thousand years of human history. He used to talk to the wardroom for hours, dissecting this or that battle down to the slightest detail upon which victory turned. His knowledge was impressive.”

  Kris nodded, allowing the man to praise Caesar. This could not go on forever.

  “We talked about the Battle of Hastings just before our first battle. Do you know it?”

  “I have a sketchy idea. The Norman conquest of England back on Earth?” Kris said.

  I CAN GIVE YOU A FULL BRIEFING, Nelly thought.

  DOWN, NELLY, IT’S THE CAPTAIN’S STORY.

  “Hastings turned on the Norman heavy cavalry riding down the Saxon heavy infantry. The infantry mistook a feigned retreat by the horsemen for a full retreat. They came off a strong position and were ridden down by the heavy horse for that mistake. Jim thought we were the heavy horse, and we could ride down the weaker alien ships. That was what he was doing. He’d charge them, they’d break, then we’d slaughter them in the rout. Hastings all over again.”

  “But our alien ‘heavy infantry’ were not on bad ground and had more fight in them,” Kris pointed out.

  “Yes, Admiral. Jim was . . . dismayed at what happened. He managed to hold it together through the fight, but he got more silent as the days went by.”

  Kris had wondered who held Yi together. Still, she would not fault the captain his loyalty.

  “He hardly said a word after your briefing,” the captain said.

  “He didn’t say a word at the briefing,” Kris pointed out.

  “None of us did. We know our desperate situation. If the aliens were foolish enough to split their forces and overextend themselves, you wanted to cut out a section that was overexposed. I was all for it. I assumed Jim was, too. It bothered me he didn’t mention th
at the aliens had split their forces, but I figured it was more of the thoughtful face he was giving us.

  “His silence got worse as we followed you. When it was time to order the task force through the jump, he just waved his hand. Once through, he only stared at the screen. When you gave us our orders, he leaned over and lost his lunch. I knew then that I had to do something. I gave orders for the task force to deploy as you ordered, then called Commodore Pavlenski and told him the admiral was indisposed. If I didn’t know him better, I’d say there was panic in Paulo’s voice. He said, no, he couldn’t take command as we were going into battle. The task force expected the flagship to lead. He’d follow my orders.”

  Kris ventured an “Interesting.”

  “Pedro Cochrane and Yusuf Suluc are young and hard charges. I’m not surprised they asked for two more divisions and a task force of their own. Paulo was always happy to stand in Jim’s shadow.”

  “And when Admiral Yi’s shadow vanished?” Kris asked.

  “I think he found the sunshine blinding.”

  “You say Admiral Yi is a good administrator. Would you say the same for Commodore Pavlenski?”

  “Yes. If they’d stayed on Earth, both would have retired with four stars.”

  “And no battle experience,” Kris said, dryly.

  “Regretfully, yes. It’s been a long peace.”

  “So I’ve heard. Would you have a problem taking command of BatRon 10?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Do you have any suggestion for command of BatRon 11?”

  “I’d reach down to the skipper of the King George V, Admiral. All of the division commanders are good men. They’ll follow orders, but if they have to make them under the pressure of battle, I would not expect the orders to be good.”

  “We just had a battle,” Kris pointed out.

  “Once you made the initial deployment and call to charge around them, not through them, like I expected, like I think Jim expected and was terrified of, it was not so much a battle as a rout. An execution.”

  “My thoughts, exactly,” Kris admitted.

  Kris eyed the overhead, seeing her very thin chain of command. Captain Hans Zermatt had fought in the First Battle of Alwa, but as a division commander. His division had been broken up until recently, leaving him doing admin legwork for Admiral Benson. Commander Becky Kaeyat commanded her ship and squadron well, but she was green.

  “Captain, I’m promoting you to commodore as of now. Nelly, cut the paperwork. You’ve got command of BatRon 10. Who gets Task Force 7 is something I’ll need to think about before we sail next, and rest assured, we will sail before too long.”

  “What will you do with Admiral Yi?”

  “I think we can find an administrative position for him. God knows, we need more of a shore establishment than we’ve got.”

  “You won’t regret that, Your Highness.”

  Kris weighed the switch from admiral to Your Highness, and decided the man from Earth likely meant well. Maybe a Rim princess was worth more than she gave herself credit for.

  Kris had the chair cough her up. “Would you mind passing that app to my computer?” Kris asked.

  “I got it when he created the chair,” Nelly said.

  “Good, I’ll be seeing you around, Commodore.”

  “I suspect you will,” the new commodore said, and bent his head back to his desk.

  Outside, Kris found the ensign waiting patiently down the hall, across from two Marines. That door said ADMIRAL YI, COMTF 7.

  Kris returned all three salutes and gave the corporal on duty a slight nod. He opened the door. “Admiral Commanding Alwa Sector,” he announced.

  No voice answered.

  The day quarters were elegant to the point of being out-of-date by a couple of centuries. The floors looked to have expensive Persian rugs. The walls seemed wood-paneled. The entire place was overstuffed . . . and empty.

  Kris went to the night quarters and knocked on the door.

  “Go away,” answered her.

  “Admiral Yi, this is Admiral Longknife, and I have a job for you,” she said, and opened the door.

  The room was only dimly lit. The admiral was in bed; he wore a rumpled nightshirt.

  “I’m not well,” he said weakly. “They’ve got me on meds that make it worse.”

  “No doubt. But I have a job for you. At least as soon as you feel you’re fit for duty.”

  “What kind of a job?” he spat. “Shoveling bird shit dirtside?”

  “No. My base establishment is threadbare. We didn’t know we had a logistics problem until it bit me on the butt. I need someone to help Admiral Benson stay ahead of our logistics and look at our total admin lash-up. We’re putting it together with spit, glue, and baling wire. I’ve looked at your file, and I think you’re just the man to get this thing shipshape.”

  “I could do that,” sounded almost human.

  “I think Pavlenski would be a good man to work with you, assuming you want him.”

  “He knows his stuff,” Yi agreed. “I could do worse.”

  “Think about it and let me know when you might be ready to hit the ground and what you think your work might look like. We don’t have much for you to go on, so you’ll be pretty free to put your own stamp on things.”

  “Will I report to you?”

  “No, I’m establishing a Commander, Base Forces Alwa Sector. You’d report to him. He’d report to me.”

  “That would work,” he agreed.

  “Then I’ll be on my way. Things are moving fast. Take care of yourself and get well.”

  “I’m feeling better already,” Yi said.

  I wonder how Rear Admiral Benson will be feeling when I tell him.

  “You’re putting me in command of what?” was his expected reply.

  “Commander, Base Forces Alwa Sector. That will also make you Vice Admiral, Commanding Reserve Fleet,” Kris added this time.

  “What’s the reserve fleet?”

  “However many ships you can get out of these yards with however much of a crew you can patch together.”

  “We’re working on the next squadron. We’ve been spinning out eight ships at a time. Tirpitz is getting her workers up to speed. Now that they’re building to our design with none of the junk they put on those Earth-built ships, she thinks she can get four out. Let’s see. Eight by the end of next week. Twelve two weeks after that and another twelve in a month. Hell, between our yard birds, the colonials, and real birds and some of the fab workers, we’ll be ready to answer bells anytime you call.”

  “That will keep you busy. I’m getting you some decent admin support. Rear Admiral Yi. Make sure he doesn’t get us so overadministered that we can’t fight.”

  “Don’t worry. I brought out a good deputy superintendent. If I don’t let him have the job I’m holding, he’s going to go sour, or full-time farmer, or ask to have a ship. Anyway, I’ll give him the yard. If I’m right, Hiroshi has someone like that at Kure Docks. Could I have a deputy?”

  “So long as he’s not Yi.”

  “You give me Rear Admiral Hiroshi as my right arm, and I’ll keep Yi and anyone else in line even if I have to rip off their arm and beat them over the head with the bloody stump.”

  On that note, Kris left Benson’s office to cut papers for a whole lot of promotions and reassignments.

  Thank heavens, Jack came home horny, because she was not about to die without jumping his bones another couple of times.

  Tomorrow’s problems would come soon enough.

  54

  Or not.

  “Hey, Kris, cancel the panic party. This is Commodore Phil Taussig, commanding Wardhaven’s Frigate Squadron 16 on the new and improved Hornet. Wait until you see what followed me home.”

  Since the message, sent through Beta Jump buoy, was a visual, she could see what he had. Beside his command chair stood a woman and a boy of maybe four. She was in the uniform of a lieutenant commander. The boy wore a bright red shipsuit. Kris suspe
cted that declared to one and all that he was not to be trusted near delicate equipment, nor much of anything else.

  Phil was true to his word. He’d brought his family out.

  God help all such fools, Kris fervently prayed.

  She was surprised to discover how much she meant it.

  She patted her belly. Baby, are you making mommy religious?

  Or just desperate? the snide part of her shot back.

  Let’s see what else Phil brought, Kris thought, cutting off her argument with herself.

  The poor instrumentation on the jump buoys continued to go bonkers over the incoming ships.

  “Some of the readouts were just plain unbelievable,” Nelly sniffed. “The sensor teams are pulling their hair out. Even the weaponry on the ships isn’t right.”

  “Is it wrong?” Jack asked.

  “It’s something,” Nelly answered.

  “So, we wait,” Kris said. “I trust Phil with my life. He would not lead an alien sneak attack. Meanwhile, tell Admiral Benson to get the shipyards working even faster, if they can. And tell Commander Hanson of the Challenger to meet me at Admiral Benson’s office at 0900.”

  Kris found herself back with the former superintendent of Cannopus Docks. “Marty, I know you wanted the Victorious for your flagship, but I’m giving her away.”

  “Who gets my pride and joy?” the newly promoted vice admiral demanded.

  “I’m sending Commander Hanson back out, and I figure he and his crew deserve something more than a patched-together scout.”

  Admiral Benson took the measure of the commander standing at stiff attention in the presence of the two admirals. “You cleaned up your act, son?” the crusty old Sailor demanded.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You going to stay squared away?”

  “I was stupid, sir. I am not an idiot. I’ve learned my lesson. Besides, if I screw up again, I know Admiral Longknife will have me shoveling bird shit, not bossing those shoveling.”

  The old admiral laughed. “I doubt she’d let you have a shovel, either. She is one of those damn Longknifes.”

  The commander made no answer, but from the look in his eyes, Kris was pretty sure there stood a man who would follow this damn Longknife into hell, with or without a map.