Kris Longknife 13 - Unrelenting

by Mike Shepherd

  “Okay, Commander, you can have my flagship. What you going to use for a crew?”

  “I was hoping to transfer over Challenger’s, ma’am, if I might,” he said to Kris.

  “You’ll need more. I’ll put a draft on the Earth task force to get you about a quarter of your crew. The rest will have to be green colonials and birds. We don’t dare pull the best of them out of the yards or the fabs.”

  “I understand, ma’am. Sir, when will the Victorious be ready?”

  “She’s ready now, Commander. All she needs is a crew.”

  “I assume you have a job for us,” Commander Hanson said, turning to Kris.

  “I want you to check on that other mother ship that’s spawning suicide boats. There’s been a drop-off of incoming crazies. I need to know whether they have given up on this idea and are moving to join the others. A new mother ship and wolf pack’s worth of warships will be a major reinforcement to those at System X. If that’s happening, I need to know.”

  “I assume my mission is to go, see, and run away fast even if you are giving me a shiny new frigate,” the commander said.

  “You got your orders in one.”

  “Then, ma’am, if you’ll excuse me, my crew and I have a job on our hands. If possible, Admiral Benson, I’d like to have the Victorious away from the pier by this time tomorrow. Day after that at the latest.”

  “Godspeed and a following wind,” Benson said.

  The commander saluted, did a smart about-face, and marched with pride for the door.

  “Young fool,” Benson added when the door had closed behind him. “He’s going to do his shakedown cruise on a course straight for the enemy.”

  “You think I should have sent him back out on Challenger?” Kris asked. This guy had been Navy when she was still in diapers.

  “Hell, no. In the fix we’re in, his cruise will likely be one of the more peaceful. Still, it gets you right here, or wherever an old pelican like me has a heart, when you see the likes of him. I’m glad you gave him a second chance.”

  “He deserved it, and he’s earned his new frigate.”

  “Damn right. Now, what can you tell me about what Phil is bringing in?”

  “Not a damn thing. We didn’t put the best of sensors on the jump buoys. They’re pickets and likely to get popped by any passing bastard. They were programmed to spot the difference between our reactors and theirs, and identify several of the different signatures we’ve got on file. What they’re eyeballing is not in the database.”

  “So I heard. Well, if you don’t mind, ma’am, some bossy admiral gave me a whole new set of problems, so if you’ll get your backside out of my visitor’s chair, I’ll get to work.”

  “I treasure the courtesy you show me,” Kris said, and hauled herself and baby out of a rather comfortable chair, and noticed as she turned for the door that the Smart MetalTM chair got a lot more utilitarian now that it wasn’t cradling her and baby.

  She said nothing but went to see what chores she’d missed.

  Abby and Pipra were waiting in her day quarters to go over production figures that would have been astounding a month ago. “We think we can get some parts for the lasers from the light fabs. It will cut down on the flow of consumer goods to the locals, but they can just suck it up.”

  “Abby, have you told Granny Rita and Ada about this?”

  “Hell, Kris, Ada and Granny Rita were the ones who suggested it. That suck-it-up idea came from Granny. That old girl is in full battle mode. God help any old bird that gets in her way, she’ll fry him up for a turkey dinner just by looking at him.”

  “So it’s that way dirtside, huh?”

  “They know we’re outnumbered, outgunned, and in deep shit. That don’t mean we’re outclassed. Outclassed? Never!”

  “That Granny Rita?”

  “Hell no, Kris. That’s pure me,” Abby said.

  “We’ve got reinforcements coming in,” Kris said.

  “So we heard. They going to be any good?” Pipra asked.

  “I have no idea. There’s something different about ’em, but whatever it is, they aren’t talking, and I’m not asking.”

  “Then, if you don’t mind, we’ll be on our way.”

  “One thing,” Kris said, as a thought crossed her mind. “The Earth frigates brought out the crystal armor. We haven’t had any frigates from the Rim with it. Is there any chance you could jack up crystal production?”

  “We could use light fabs for that,” Abby said. “It’ll mean more birds squawking.”

  “Do it.”

  “We’re on it.”

  Kris found she’d done about all she could for now. That seemed to be the job of a senior admiral. Get everyone running off in forty-eleven different directions, then sit on your butt until some came back with a new collection of snakes.

  “Baby, I think there’s time for you and me to have a nice slow bath.” It wasn’t as nice as when Abby ran the water and turned Kris’s hair washing into something luxurious and nearly sinful, but it worked out fine for the two of them.

  The Victorious made it away from the pier late that night, without alerting Kris. They did four gees to Jump Point Beta and got through just ahead of the incoming fleet.

  Seeing that fleet up close and personal must have been something near religious.

  It was quite a sight to Kris watching from her flag plot.

  She had her full team: Jack and Admiral Furzah, Penny and Masao, Amanda and Jacques. Even Abby managed to show up.

  It was a show worth going out of your way to see.

  Phil’s Hornet led a squadron of Wardhaven frigates: Courageous, Furious, Glorious, Formidable, Illustrious, Implacable, and Powerful. All had the weird reactors, but the reactors were only the start of the strange.

  “They’ve got twenty lasers,” Nelly reported. “Double our number with different capacitors. Chief Beni is driving the sensor crew crazy trying to figure them out.”

  “Do they have crystal armor?” Kris asked.

  “No.”

  Kris scowled. Had Earth held on to the secret . . . or were the moneymen arguing over who got how many bags of gold for the patents? It didn’t matter, she’d fix that.

  “Abby, tell Pipra we’ll need that extra crystal.”

  “I already did.”

  Four support ships followed Phil. The next warships were from New Birmingham, and the names said it: Birmingham, Milan, Essen, Pittsburgh, Manchester, Newcastle, Yawata, and Jamshedpur. Each the name of an industrial city of that planet. Most had been founded as New-Something, but the new wore off years ago.

  All had the new reactors and lasers but no crystal protection.

  Abby made another call to Pipra. The industrialist’s shout of dismay came loud and clear through the commlink.

  “Nelly, advise Admiral Benson that we’ve got ships coming in that need to upgrade their armor. Tell him to get with Pipra about any ideas he has to make that go faster.”

  “He’s been following the show. He has his folks working on it.”

  “Good man.”

  New Birmingham’s squadron was trailed by what looked like a repair ship and six freighters. They’d hardly cleared the jump when a mixed squadron started popping in. The first division was from Woolomurra. The flag Warumungu with the Arrenrente, Canberra, Toowoomba, Te Mana, and Te Kaha made for a six-ship division. The next division was five. From Tillamook came the Ammanoosuc, Maawaska, Nashaminy, Popmanoosuc, and Wampanoag.

  “What kind of names are those?” Jack asked.

  “I have no idea,” Nelly confessed. “Tillamook is famous for their light footprint on the planet. If I were to guess, and a computer never does, I’d say those are either the names of rivers or the larger of the small villages. Tillamook refuses to be mapped. If you want to travel, you hire a native guide. Some of you people are so strange,” Nelly concluded.

  “Well, where did they get the ships?” Penny asked.

  “I suspect, like Woolomurra, they bought them an
d provided the crews,” Kris said. “Interesting what that says about our support back home.”

  “Very interesting,” Jack said. “They didn’t send four but rather five or six. Does anyone else want to hear the story of how they ended up with extra ships?”

  “I suspect it is something totally human,” Nelly said, with a strong hint of a sniff.

  “More ships,” Kris said, to end that. Four freighters and a repair ships followed the reinforced squadron, assuming Tillamook and Woolomurra were working together.

  More frigates showed up; Kris actually clapped her hands. “Hikila has sent ships!” The lead ship was the Hikila, followed by Port Stanley, Keokuk, Port Canterbury, Pukaki, Port Canberra, Taupo, and Port Adelaide. Kris smiled. “Half named by islanders, half by folks from the big island. All likely built and crewed from Hikila.”

  Six freighters and a repair ship followed.

  Two huge ships followed the Hikila squadron. Kris didn’t panic this time. She was familiar with the stations they’d sent out. The first one identified itself as Kiel out of New Birmingham, the next as the Gdansk, from Sawa. Both quickly began to spin out piers.

  Behind them were two equally large ships that Nelly promptly identified as factories in flight, the We Can Have That for You Yesterday and the Sacrificial Lamb My Ass.

  “Who came up with those names?” Penny asked no one.

  “I don’t think we’ll have to tell them they aren’t going back,” Jack said.

  If the last four ships were huge, the next ship through dwarfed them and brought everyone in the room to their feet.

  “That ship must be double the size of one of the alien warships,” Penny said. “It has to displace a good million tons if it weighs a gram.”

  It squawked as Conqueror from Wardhaven.

  “An optimistic name,” Kris said.

  “The sensor crews are going bonkers,” Nelly reported. “It’s got a dozen reactors the size big cities have, all located amidships. There are a lot of battleship-size ones aft for rocket motors. Kris, that ship makes no sense. I’d say it was a portable fabrication plant, only there’s no heavy machinery, and there’s something on the bow that doesn’t fit anything I’ve ever seen.”

  “They said they were working on a surprise,” Jack said.

  “Well, they surprised me,” Nelly shot back.

  Hardly had that anomaly cleared the jump than a second came through.

  “The Ultimate Argument from Savannah,” Kris said. “What kind of name is Ultimate Argument?”

  “Cannon is the Ultimate Argument of kings,” Nelly answered back.

  “Conqueror. Ultimate Argument,” Jack said. “Someone sounds awful confident.”

  Then a third one, just as huge and full of question marks, jumped in. “Opening Statement from Pitts Hope,” Kris read from her board.

  “The bastards will not talk to us, so we have an opening statement and an ultimate argument,” Masao said slowly.

  “I don’t know what they are,” Kris said, “but I think folks back home expect them to settle someone’s hash.”

  “I can’t wait to see what they are,” Jack said.

  There was one final squadron, providing rear guard for the fleet. From Hekate came the Diamond, Emerald, Garnet, Opal, Ruby, Turquoise, Sapphire, and Topaz. All with the powerful guns. None with the new armor.

  Kris did the tally. Forty-three new frigates. Three anomalies, a pair of factories to drop down on the moon, and two more station ships.

  “Nelly, tell Admiral Tirpitz to prepare to have two docks mate with her station fore and aft of her present position. If she has any questions, contact Admiral Benson on the drill. Ask Admiral Benson how many of the new arrivals can dock on Cannopus Station. It’s my preferred place for them. I’ll need to brief them on our situation, and they sure as hell need to brief me on what they’ve got.”

  “Doing it, Kris.”

  “Oh, and send to Phil on the Hornet. ‘Please report with family to my quarters on Wasp soonest upon your arrival. I want a briefing on what followed you home.’”

  “It’s on its way.”

  Kris found she had stood about as long as her legs wanted. “Nelly, make me one of those comfortable chairs.” One appeared at the foot of Kris’s table, near the screens. She settled into it as her team found chairs and, together, meditated on what they had now.

  “Abby, what can we do about crystal production?” Kris said. “Coordinate with Admiral Benson. I want to take Phil’s squadron directly into the yards for installation. Nelly, send to Phil. ‘What are the Hornet’s dimensions at Condition Zed? Are the other frigates the same?’”

  “Sent, Kris.”

  “Okay, crew, let’s think. What are we missing that we could do now before seconds cost blood?”

  The conversation lasted half an hour and added nothing. The others went to do what needed doing and Kris found herself alone with Jack.

  “You headed off for Marine stuff?”

  “I don’t like the bastards attacking with small units and individuals. My Marines need to practice repelling boarders.”

  “You go do that.”

  “What will you do?”

  “I think it’s time for me and baby to take a nap. It’s been an exciting morning.”

  “I think the two of you have earned a break,” Jack said. He gave her a kiss on the forehead, then baby a kiss on whatever end was up at the moment, and left.

  “Nelly, does this thing recline as well as get my feet up?”

  “How much do you want?” Nelly asked.

  “Not that far,” Kris said as she found herself almost laid out flat. Slowly, Nelly brought the back up. “There, and take the lights down. Not on the boards, I want to see them,” Kris said, as the overhead lights dimmed.

  Kris eyed her four fleets. Or was it five? How many squadrons would she have? That would depend on how soon the aliens made their move. Would they wait for the suicidal bastard to join them? That would get Kris more time.

  It would also give them time. What would they do with it?

  Kris found her eyelids heavy. She closed them, and slowed her breathing.

  She was young again. At least everything at Nuu House was so much bigger than it had been the last time she was there. Her mother was a giant, nearly twice as tall as Kris.

  And Mother was crying. Crying for Eddy.

  Kris remembered this moment. She’d felt so lost. So guilty for being alive when Eddy was dead. Kris remembered going into a corner and crying.

  It seemed that all of them, Father, Mother, Brother, and she had gone into their own separate corners and wept alone.

  It was all Kris knew how to do. Mother and Father did it, so she did, too.

  Now Kris knew that was wrong. Now Kris knew they should have pulled together and shared their grief. Now she wished they had.

  In her dream, Kris found she wasn’t nearly small enough for that corner. She had to move furniture to get up, but she did. Funny, Kris was pregnant now in her dream, but still she managed to get up and make her way to Mother. She found herself hugging Mother, something she’d never done. Hugging her and patting her hair. “Now, now. It will get better. This will pass.”

  Of course, alone, separated from each other, it had never gotten better.

  But in her dream, Kris found herself sitting in the rarely used rocker, holding her mother in her lap, a mother that was suddenly so much smaller. She rocked her mother, soothed her.

  “We can get through this, love. We can’t see it now, but we can,” she said softly to her weeping, shrunken mother. “Trust me. If we go out and meet this, we can get through it.”

  Kris came awake, but the last words of her dream echoed in her head. “If we go out and meet this, we can get through it.”

  What am I trying to tell myself? Is this one of those dreams Doc Meade warned me about? Am I just trying to resolve my life for me and baby? Or am I seeing something clearer here?

  Kris’s eyes went to the screen that showed
the star chart. System X was twelve jumps out from Alwa, two if you used the fuzzy jump in the next system and went directly into System X. Was that a bad idea, to have an entire fleet show up were the alien could see no jump?

  “It depends on what we can do if we do it,” Kris said, rubbing baby gently as she thought.

  “What are those monsters they’ve sent us? Nelly, are any of the new frigates from Wardhaven carrying Hellburners?”

  “Let me check. No Kris. They did not bring out a new supply.”

  “Interesting. Very interesting,” Kris said, and patted baby. “What is your great-great-grandfather shipping us for Winter Faire?”

  As much as Kris, both the young one and the older version, hated it, she’d just have to wait to find out.

  55

  “You wanted us to report as soon as we got in,” Commodore Taussig said as he saluted, the grin on his face pure joy.

  A woman with lieutenant commander’s stripes stood next to him, saluting with one hand while the other held the pudgy paw of a four-year-old who struggled manfully to stand at attention and salute, too, while fidgeting only a little bit. His white sailor suit showed evidence that he’d managed to find dirt even on Kris’s pristine ship and station.

  Well, that was what four-year-olds do, find dirt. Kris found herself rubbing baby even as she returned their salutes.

  “Sit down. So, you asked your wife, and she came. Tell me that you’re risking your family because what you brought will make it safer for us all.”

  “It will, Kris. You won’t believe what they’ve done.”

  “Try me.”

  “You remember that question you raised when they briefed us on the Hellburners. ‘Can you bring out the thing that chips stuff off neutron stars and use it to shoot stuff at the bad guys?’”

  “I seem to recall that question,” Kris said. “I also recall it would take a huge chunk of a planet’s energy budget.”

  “Energy as we humans produce the stuff.”

  “We humans?”

  “We never asked the Iteeche how their electric plants work,” Phil said, beaming. “When your friend Ron took the Emperor the full report of what faced us, the old palace got hopping. Then we gave them Smart Metal. It was a huge trust issue and King Ray took a major hit. Some tried to impeach him.