“Who were these people inflaming your subjects?” Kris asked.
“The Navy,” the Empress spat. “They have betrayed their sacred duty. They had been allowed to found their own colonies, supposedly retirement communities. We’ve found that to be a traitorous lie. Would you believe it, when we had to cut the budget and decommission ships, captains took their ships off to those same Navy colonies and joined in open rebellion.”
The two Imperials exchanged angry glances.
“You know that my Vicky has spent the last four years with the Navy,” Harry said. “I thought they might instill some discipline in her. She was a most willful girl to start with.”
Kris nodded. Willful? How about murderous? Still, she said nothing.
“We think,” the Empress went on, “that some of those elements in the Navy brainwashed her into spouting their propaganda. When last I saw her, she was strutting around in a uniform. What was her supposed rank?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder.
“Vice admiral,” the field marshal commanding the Imperial Guard provided.
“Vice admiral, would you believe. She’s hardly been in the Navy four years.”
Kris had to admit that four years to vice admiral was cutting it mighty short. She’d taken five.
She did not tell Vicky’s stepmother that.
“So what do you want me to do?” Kris asked again, dropping her royal “we” since they had dropped theirs.
Now the Emperor leaned forward earnestly in his seat. “Go to her. Those rebels wouldn’t dare fire on the US flag. Tell her I love her and all will be forgiven if she’ll just abandon those traitorous elements and come home.”
“I tried to bring her home,” the Empress put in.
“I took a major fleet to St. Petersburg to get our Vicky back from their clutches. They had the audacity to resist me and even fire on some of the ships with me. I couldn’t believe it. I would have gotten through to the ship she was being held on, but we received a message from my loving husband announcing that he wanted to bring you into the resolution of this problem, and I announced a general cease-fire. Badly outnumbered, the rebels were only too happy to grab this chance to withdraw and regroup. They still refused to let me have my daughter back. They refused me, her loving mother.”
Kris nodded, doing her best to remain evenhanded and listen, really listen to the Empress. Still, in the back of her brain was a clear memory of Vicky’s sharing the uptick in assassination attempts that started just about the time her stepmother announced she was pregnant with a boy.
Kris blinked. The silence after the Empress’s last word was growing.
“Your Imperial Majesty, I will accept your charge. You mentioned that the Grand Duchess was last seen at St. Petersburg.”
“Yes,” the Empress provided.
“Then I and my squadron will depart for there immediately and do our best to retrieve your daughter from anyone holding her hostage. As a Longknife, I detest kidnappers.”
Of course, it was rumored that the man seated across from her had paid to kill Kris’s grandmother Sarah and arrange the kidnapping of her brother, Eddy.
Without so much as blinking an eye, the Emperor said, “I knew you would answer my call. Can you take a fleet out to St. Petersburg and bring back my Vicky?”
“I will most certainly try, Your Imperial Majesty; however, I don’t have a fleet,” Kris pointed out.
“What do you have?” the Empress asked.
“The squadron you see here, eight frigates.”
“Good God, young woman, they will blow you to bits,” the Empress put in. “I saw the fleet they had. And the admirals organizing this rebellion are smart fighting men. We can’t seem to find anyone of that high caliber.”
“I’ve won a few battles of my own,” Kris said, modestly.
“Well, if you think so,” the Emperor said.
“As you mentioned before, Your Imperial Majesty, I fly the US flag. I do not expect to have to fight my way in or out.”
“But how will you get your hands on her?” the Empress demanded.
“All I need to do is get her onto US territory, and I will do it the same way there that I did here to bring you to US territory.”
“Oh,” the Emperor said.
“Oh,” the Empress said, glancing over Kris’s shoulder at the Marines standing stiffly against the wall. A quick glance over her shoulder and the face that came back to face Kris was most thoughtful.
“I am very grateful for your coming,” Kris said, standing. “Now, if you will return to the station, I have a squadron I would like to get under way as soon as possible.”
It took much less time for the Imperial mob to exit the Princess Royal than it had to get them aboard. As they gathered on the quarterdeck, Nelly formed an air lock around them and sent them on their way with only a minimal loss of air.
The returning Marine guards quickly paraded into the now-empty air lock and began their decontamination.
Four hours later, the squadron was in its last preparations to close locks and depart. Several large containers were towed up to the seven other ships of the squadron. It seemed that Nelly had indeed arranged for the delivery of certain libations.
“Ma’am?” Captain Ajax asked.
“Nelly, are those loads paid for?”
“The requisition chit has been submitted to the Palace. If it is to be audited, it won’t happen until we are well away from the pier.”
“Jack?”
“You’ve gotten away with treating Sailors like grown-ups so far. Why not try it again? You will, no doubt, maintain the limit of no more than two drinks or beers an evening.”
“And if anyone renders themselves unfit for duty, I will reinstate keelhauling and see how long they can hold their breath.”
“Keelhauling?” came from Captain Ajax.
“Nelly, you explain it to the captain when you have a chance. Get the beer trucks taken aboard first. Make sure they’re decontaminated.”
“How long do we keep this love-boat configuration?” Captain Ajax asked.
“No later than when we come within double 18-inch-laser range of a jump. We still go through the jumps at Condition Zed and battle stations.”
“Aye, aye, Admiral.
With no further problems, they headed out to get Vicky’s side of the story.
39
Jump after jump, as they made their way out from Greenfeld, passed with no surprises. They seemed to have space all to themselves. When they jumped into the Pozen system, they were nervously hailed.
Kris personally took the comm to inform the planet that they would not approach them. “We are US ships on a diplomatic mission. I am Princess Kris Longknife.”
That seemed to mollify the station . . . and the battleship and two cruisers docked to it.
A few jumps later, they entered the Presov system, only to find the light cruiser Emden holding fifty thousand kilometers out from the jump.
“We have been detailed by the Grand Duchess to assure the safety of your last few jumps.”
“We’re deep into rebel territory,” Kris pointed out. “Can’t you control your own shipping lanes?”
“Usually, yes. We’ve blown up or captured quite a few of the so-called pirates. Still, the black-hearted Empress occasionally gets the odd ship deep into our territory by using the minor jumps and barren systems.”
“Well, we are grateful for your help,” Kris said. “Nelly, cut the commlink.” Then she turned to Jack. “Well, what do you think of that?”
“I’d say it puts a bit of a different twist on the Empress’s opinion.”
“The Grand Duchess can order ships to meet us. That doesn’t sound like a hostage situation to me,” Kris snapped.
“Let’s hold our horses,” Jack said. “The skipper of a light cruiser may not know anything about what is taking
place at the high-command levels.”
Kris scowled. “Yes. Yes, I know. Still, I can’t see the Vicky I know letting anyone use her. Her use them? No question. Them use her? Nope. Not going to happen.”
“I won’t argue with you, wife. But I would suggest the admiral pass along that communication to her brain trust with a request to assess it and the Empress’s side of the story to see what we can make of the two.”
Kris sighed. “Okay, my ever-cautious husband. I will refrain from my usual exercise of jumping to conclusions.”
She slipped close to Jack, and whispered, “But I would dearly like to jump your bones.”
“Hon, I’m scheduled to lead my Marines in a run. Every time we expand amidships back to huge, we Marines get our track back. It’s exactly three point two seven kilometers around the waist of the ship.”
“You could get your exercise jumping my bones,” Kris pouted.
“Or we could both get our exercise, first a ten kilometer run, then a roll in the hay.”
“You really want me to work off my baby fat, don’t you?”
“Nelly, can you rerun my last few comments for Kris. Was baby fat mentioned by anyone but her?”
“I assume that is a rhetorical question,” the computer said.
“You win, husband, but you can lead from the front. I will pull up the rear where I shouldn’t be too embarrassed by anyone’s noticing my finishing time.”
A few more jumps, and Kris was almost able to finish right up with the rest of the Marine detachment. And with Ruth skimming the top off the fat she ate for her milk, Kris wasn’t doing too badly tightening up her mommy body.
Still, the entire squadron was at battle stations, ships at Condition Zed, as they made the jump into the St. Petersburg system.
Kris stood before the main screen. “This is the US frigate Princess Royal, and I am Admiral, Her Royal Highness Kristine of the United Society on a diplomatic mission. I have come to talk to Grand Duchess Victoria of Greenfeld.”
The message went out at light speed. They would have a long wait before Vicky could reply . . . if she was permitted to.
The sensor crew quickly developed a picture of the St. Petersburg system. The station hardly had a vacant pier, what with freighters coming in and going out.
“There’s a lot more trade going on than we saw around Greenfeld,” the tech specialist advised. “There are also a whole lot of warships. I’ve made out an even dozen battleships, another dozen cruisers, heavy and light, and twenty or so destroyers. I think some of the merchant ships are armed cruisers, but all the merchant ships are armed. It’s hard to draw a line between armed merchant ship and ship loaded with heavy armament to make them merchant cruisers.”
“No doubt we’ll get a better picture once we’re on approach to the station.”
“Ma’am, several of those battleships are honking big dudes. One has sixteen 18-inch lasers and a whole lot of secondary guns.”
“And to think, just a few years ago, we’d be worried about such a monster,” Jack whispered to Kris.
She had to chuckle at how things had changed.
Kris met with her brain trust and found them still unwilling to make any commitments. She found she got more out of time with Ruth and her nannies than she got from those ninnies. Kris had paperwork to keep up with. She’d requested a report from all her captains about how they were handling sailing ships blown up like balloons and with their own public house aboard.
Each ship had at least one chief who did not like the idea of booze aboard. However, it was universally agreed that the gripe came from the chief who operated the still in the goat locker, and since everyone else seemed to be getting along, the change in situation was deemed acceptable. Those who couldn’t hold themselves to the two limit were few and given counseling. They were in line for more if the first session wasn’t enough. Several ships had established a policy that those on probation for breaking the two limit would not be allowed in the bar without a buddy who was responsible for them.
Kris liked that policy and sent back a well-done to those ships that had established it and a suggestion to the others to do likewise.
The day turned out very busy, and Kris had just collapsed into bed with Jack, Ruth fed and a spare bottle of milk for her so Kris could sleep through the night. She was edging into Jack’s arms and wondering if she was really exhausted or might she have a bit of reserves for her and Jack when Nelly announced, “A message has arrived on the bridge from Vicky Peterwald.”
Kris said a most unprincesslike word, which was seconded by Jack, and the two tumbled out of bed and hastily pulled on shipsuits.
“Nelly, have the message sent down to flag plot and advise the three heads of my brain trust to report to my quarters immediately, as in five minutes ago. You might tell them why.”
“I have the message ready to play in your flag plot and all of your brain trust had left messages to alert them when a message came back. They’re already on their way here.”
That was one advantage of letting the ship balloon out. Flag Country and the brain trust were just about next door to each other. Jack opened the door, and Kris stepped through from her bedroom to her work.
It is, it is a truly glorious thing to be a pirate Princess.
Judge Diana Frogmore was already there, waiting, though her attire was a bit informal, a tank top and gym shorts. “I hadn’t gone to bed yet, so it was easy to rush over.”
Senior Arbitrator Bill Gladsten arrived a moment later, in sweats. “Am I late?”
“Al’s still missing,” Diana told him.
The clock ticked off three minutes and Kris was edgy enough to start without him when Al Fu, the chief mediator, walked in wearing a dressing gown, a hair net, and showing where he’d missed some skin cream when he hastily wiped it off his face. “Okay, okay, sorry to be late.”
“Now we’ll start,” Kris said, but the door opened again, and Runda Fairsight trotted in, wearing light blue slacks and a badly wrinkled but brightly embroidered shirt that Kris remembered her wearing that morning.
“Sorry, we were looking at the data take from St. Petersburg. It’s not nearly as encrypted as Greenfeld’s. I think we’re making up a good picture of the economy.”
“Good, now, let’s see what Vicky has to say, assuming she was allowed to talk to us at all,” Kris said.
The screen lit up and there was Vicky in Navy blues showing the stripes of a vice admiral. “Kris, I’m so glad to see you,” she squeed. “Boy, have I got dirt to dish with you. You wouldn’t believe all the stuff I’ve done in what, the last two years is it?”
Vicky paused to take a breath. “I don’t know how you’ve managed to do all you do, but I’ve tried my hand at a few things, always wondering what Kris Longknife would do. Not that I’ve turned into someone who’s all for democracy and stuff. Though, this guy, you remember him, Mannie Artamus, the mayor of Sevastopol, he’s kind of making it easier for me to think we need to get more people involved than just we Peterwalds in deciding what needs to be done.”
Vicky’s attention was drawn offscreen. “Oh, Admiral von Mittleburg says I should tell you that I did a pretty good job myself when we were fighting off the Empress’s fleet. Well, fighting off several of the Empress’s fleets, but she was only out here for the last, big fight. Anyway, he wants me to tell you that my three stars aren’t just window dressing. I earned them. Hard to believe that, huh? I wish Admiral Krätz were here to see me now. I think about what he’d do at least as often as I think about what you’d do.”
“Does that woman always talk this much?” Diana asked.
“And this fast?” Al added.
“What’s she been smoking?” Bill wanted to know.
“I think she’s just excited,” Kris said, “though I have to admit, I have never seen her on this kind of a jag. Still, remember, it’s been the better
part of two years since we’ve been together.”
On the screen, Vicky was still talking.
“Kris, you wouldn’t believe what we’ve done out here. There were planets that were breaking down. Total civil collapse, cannibalism might even have been in the cards. We’ve managed to get food out to those that were really bad off, and get trade going so planets could get their industrial sector back up and give people jobs.”
Again, Vicky glanced offscreen. “We have figured out how the Empress and her father’s cronies managed to collapse everything. I thought it was cutting off credit, but there was more. Admiral von Mittleburg is shushing me. I don’t think he wants that identified on an open channel. And maybe I should stop talking, but I’ve missed you, Kris. Really missed you. We so need to talk.”
Vicky paused and got a fay grin on her face. “I know how you got the Order of the Wounded Lion,” she almost sang. “Signing off for now, Kris, but hurry down here. You really have to see what we’ve done.”
The screen went blank.
The six of them looked at each other.
“Vicky is something,” Kris said.
“Something else,” Diana added, again staying vague.
“Well, we now know that she can access the net,” Bill said. “She had an admiral of some sort with her, but I could see no gun at her head.”
“She was talking too fast to be reading a script,” Al observed. “I don’t know how much control she actually has, but she really believes that she has been significantly in command of her fate and of planets.”
“Did she say that she could claim some of the credit for resisting several invasions?” Kris asked.
“Yes she did,” Nelly replied. “Would you like me to replay those parts of the message?
“Do, Nelly,” and the screen lit up and Vicky talked again.
“Yes, she was in on the fight,” Jack said. “Note that Admiral von Mittleburg, whoever he is, wanted her to take some credit for the victories.”
“Which is not to say that she deserves such credit,” Diana pointed out.
“Are you going to stay the doubting Thomas?” Bill asked.
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