Kris Longknife's Successor Read online

  Kris Longknife’s Successor

  Grand Admiral Santiago on Alwa Station

  Mike Shepherd

  KL & MM Books

  Published by KL & MM Books

  February 2018

  Copyright © 2018 by Mike Moscoe

  All right reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording, or any other information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher.

  This book is a work of fiction set 400 years in humanity’s future. Any similarity between present people, places, or events would be spectacularly unlikely and is purely coincidental.

  This book is written and published by the author. Please don’t pirate it. I’m self-employed. The money I earn from these sales allow me to produce more stories to entertain you. I’d hate to have to get a day job again. If this book comes into your hands free, please consider going to your favorite e-book provider and investing in a copy so I can continue to earn a living at this wonderful art.

  I would like to thank my wonderful cover artist, Scott Grimando, who did all my Ace covers and will continue doing my own book covers. I also am grateful for the editing skill of Lisa Müller, Edee Lemonier, and, as ever, Ellen Moscoe.

  Ver 2.0

  eBook ISBN-13: 978-16422110203

  Print ISBN-13: 978-1642110210

  Also by Mike Shepherd

  Published by KL & MM Books

  Kris Longknife: Admiral

  Kris Longknife: Emissary

  Kris Longknife’s Successor

  Kris Longknife’s Replacement

  Kris Longknife’s Relief

  Rita Longknife: Enemy Unknown

  Rita Longknife: Enemy in Sight

  Short Stories from KL & MM Books

  Kris Longknife’s Maid Goes On Strike and Other Short Stories: Vignettes from Kris Longknife’s World

  Kris Longknife’s Maid Goes On Strike

  Kris Longknife’s Bad Day

  Ruth Longknife’s First Christmas

  Kris Longknife: Among the Kicking Birds

  Ace Books by Mike Shepherd

  Kris Longknife: Mutineer

  Kris Longknife: Deserter

  Kris Longknife: Defiant

  Kris Longknife: Resolute

  Kris Longknife: Audacious

  Kris Longknife: Intrepid

  Kris Longknife: Undaunted

  Kris Longknife: Redoubtable

  Kris Longknife: Daring

  Kris Longknife: Furious

  Kris Longknife: Defender

  Kris Longknife: Tenacious

  Kris Longknife: Unrelenting

  Kris Longknife: Bold

  Vicky Peterwald: Target

  Vicky Peterwald: Survivor

  Vicky Peterwald: Rebel

  Mike Shepherd writing as Mike Moscoe in the Jump Point Universe

  First Casualty

  The Price of Peace

  They Also Serve

  Rita Longknife: To Do or Die

  Short Specials

  Kris Longknife: Training Daze

  Kris Longknife : Welcome Home, Go Away

  Kris Longknife’s Bloodhound

  Kris Longknife’s Assassin

  The Lost Millennium Trilogy Published by KL & MM Books

  Lost Dawns: Prequel

  First Dawn

  Second Fire

  Lost Days

  1

  Grand Admiral Sandy Santiago scowled at the two staff members as they sat down. They had requested this meeting first thing to explain what had been going on in the Alwa System while Sandy was away. She’d been busy fighting crazy alien monsters and peeling back the ancient wreckage of their home planet to better understand the bug-eyed monsters (BEMs for short) that looked too damn similar to humans.

  She had to admit, she might be a bit behind on the local news.

  Certainly, what she’d heard on the voyage from the jump point to Canopus Station had not sounded good.

  Still, what Sandy really wanted was a briefing from her key science staff on the studies done on findings from the alien raiders’ home planet. She’d put off that pleasant conversation to talk to these two.

  Across from Sandy, on the opposite side of her desk, sat two women. One was in uniform, the second was a primly dressed civilian, though her tummy might be just starting to show that she wasn’t all that conservative around her boyfriend.

  Admiral Amber Kitano’s four stars were well and quickly earned by the young woman. A tall, willowy blond, the admiral wore her uniform like a second skin, the same way she wore command of a battle fleet. Amber was Sandy’s second-in-command and made the first report.

  “All is well, Admiral Santiago,” she said before she sat down. “The aliens picked off just one of our automated outposts. They were long gone by the time we got out there to replace it. As per standing orders, we added an additional layer of outposts and came back. As far as the Navy’s concerned, things are shipshape and Bristol fashion. I wish the same could be said for the civilian side.”

  With that cryptic remark the four-star had turned the meeting over to the civilian who’d followed her in. The olive-skinned woman sat in her place like a powerful spring at rest but on a hair trigger. Abby Nightingale had been Kris Longknife’s maid, spy, assassin and general dog robber. Any of those jobs could have been a killer, yet the woman had survived five years of it and now was well into her fourth year as the chief expediter for Nuu Enterprises in the Alwa System.

  Oh, and she’d also organized the workers into a union and led them out on a system-wide strike. All in five days.

  Sandy’s respect for the woman was exceeded only by her caution around her.

  “Say again,” Sandy said, trying to restart the conversation that she had missed while reflecting on the messenger.

  “Alexander Longknife has sent a new management staff out here to retake control of the Nuu Enterprises portion of our industrial base,” Abby repeated.

  “I thought it was supposed to take him more time to find out that Kris Longknife shipped his last bunch off to Chance?” Sandy asked.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Abby answered. “Kris sent the last batch packing and we figured dropping them penniless on Chance would keep them too busy earning their bread to afford an interstellar phone call.”

  Here the former maid shrugged. “I guess they were more creative in their financing than we thought they were. However they managed it, just after you left, a convoy arrived with an entire boatload of Alex’s best. Managers, thugs, lawyers, and his very own judge.”

  “Lawyers? Judge?” Sandy said slowly. She did not like the sound of this. Lawyers and judges never meant any good as far as she was concerned.

  “Yes, Admiral,” Abby said. “It seems that as a dependent colony of Wardhaven, Alwa does not have the standing to organize its own court system. Least of all a court to hear claims involving trans-stellar cases. It turns out that anything involving Nuu Enterprises is a trans-stellar matter.”

  “So, they already knew about Granny Rita nationalizing their industry, huh?” Sandy asked.

  “Actually, no,” Abby answered. “They thought they’d just be handling a matter of who had the right to run Nuu Enterprises: them or the team Kris Longknife put in place. They’d hardly stepped off their ship before they were telling me Kris didn’t have the right to decide how the Nuu Enterprise business was run. She was just a shareholder. Alex was the CEO. He decided such matters.”

  “So said the lawyers,” Sandy said, dryly.

  “So said the judge,” Abby appended.

  “He’s sounding as if he’s been bought lock, stock, and barrel.”

  “
A conclusion most of us here arrived at quickly,” Abby admitted.

  “And the lawyers’ and judge’s reaction to discovering that everything in the Alwa System had been nationalized?”

  “It was merely a speed bump in their plan to blitz us. They took a night to rewrite their briefs and presented their complaint to the judge the next day. Meanwhile, the thugs, I mean security guards that had come out with them, were strutting around Canopus Station trying to start fights. It seemed that the pet judge had established that his writ held sway on the station for all things. It was pretty clear that if someone threw a fist at them, they were looking forward to suing them for everything they owned.”

  Sandy did not like the tone of this. Not at all. “Did my Marines have a thing or two to say about this?”

  This got Amber’s attention. “I had my best JAG officer look into that. It seems we never bothered to declare martial law. While the USMJ holds sway in the shipyards, private quarters and private businesses are another matter.”

  “So, the bullies bullied.”

  “Sad to say, Admiral, but yes.”

  “How much trouble are we in?”

  “We let the word out quickly and, so far, everyone has walked away from a fight,” Amber said. “However, that’s not going to last forever. Yesterday they started harassing women on the A Deck promenade.”

  “Admiral, do we have some young female Marines that need some practice at hand-to-hand combat?” Sandy asked.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Admiral Kitano said through a shit-eating grin.

  “Get them into civvies and turn them loose on A Deck. Tell the Marines that I’ll pay any fines levied against them.”

  “Aye, aye, Admiral,” Amber said and made a quick call. “Implement Plan A. The admiral and I will be picking up the tab for any fines.”

  Amber’s grin was even bigger as she rung off. “The gals will be out in ten minutes.”

  “You reading my mind, Admiral?” Sandy asked with a jaundiced eye.

  “No, ma’am. I think you read mine.”

  “Meanwhile,” Abby said, “things are not going as well as the new kids on the managerial block expected. They figured they had the only lawyers in the system and they could hold their court hearing and get a snap decision from the bench. They forgot how many JAG officers the fleet has with it.”

  “But they’re my JAG officers,” Sandy said. “Not that I wouldn’t mind loaning them to you, but defending Nuu Enterprises from Nuu Enterprises hardly passes as ‘other duties as assigned’.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Abby agreed. “But your officers on shore leave do have the right to take odd jobs.”

  Sandy turned to Amber. “Do we have any lawyers skilled in fighting hostile takeovers? Do we have any that even know where to look for the statutes covering corporate law?”

  “Ma’am, we have lawyers trained in just about every aspect of the law, including divorce law, which is starting to come in handy. You’d be surprised at the number of lawyers we have who studied every aspect of corporate law and then volunteered for duty in the Alwa System. We even have one senior former corporate lawyer who volunteered for the Navy and Alwa just to get away from something or other. She’s leading the team we put together.”

  “How’s the fight going to keep control of the nationalized property?” Sandy asked.

  “Not as well as we’d like,” Abby admitted. “They countersued for compensation. It seems they brought some cash with them, and since we lack much cash in the system, they’re bragging that they’ll force us to auction off the fabs and they will buy them up for chicken feed.”

  “We have plenty of chicken feed,” Amber said. “Or at least bird feed.”

  “Unfortunately, they want cold, hard Wardhaven dollars,” Abby said.

  “So, we’re in a mess,” Sandy concluded.

  “Not even close,” Abby said, grinning like she’d just dined on several fat canaries.

  “I’m listening,” Sandy said. “Make it quick. If you’ve got a solution to this, I want to hear it.”

  “Actually, Granny Rita pulled one of those Longknife grizzly bears out of her hat.”

  “Oh lord, not Granny Rita again! Is everyone about to go out on strike again?” Sandy asked. The last time she went off on an independent mission and came back, Granny Rita had nationalized everything and Abby had organized a system-wide strike to oppose the old girl. Strangely enough, the former Rita Nuu-Longknife-Ponsa, and whatever other names she’d worn in her many marriages in the Alwa system, had submitted to the unanimous decision of just about everyone that they did not want her running things.

  She’d been fired from her job as viceroy for all things Alwan.

  Still, the nationalization of all means of production in the Alwan System had been too tasty for the locals. Everything had stayed nationalized and was working out pretty well.

  “Nope, no one’s on strike,” Abby said. “We’ve been thinking of doing that, but to date we haven’t had to.”

  “Okay, I know I don’t want to know,” Sandy said, slowly, “but what’s this grizzly bear that Granny Rita has managed to get to do her bidding?”

  “When you’re really mad at the old harridan,” Amber said, “you want to call her Rita Nuu-Longknife, right?”

  “Yes,” Sandy admitted.

  “Say those words again. Only slowly, and think about where they come from.”

  “Rita,” Sandy said. “Nuu. Longknife.”

  “Mata,” Abby said to her computer, “Would you fill us in on the history of Granny Rita’s early life, please?”

  “Granny Rita,” Abby’s computer, one of Nelly’s kids, began in lecture mode, “was born Rita Nuu. The only child of Earnest Nuu and Clara Stirling. She married Major Raymond Longknife and they had two children together, and a third born after her ship became lost in space . . .”

  “That’s all we need to know,” Sandy said. “Nuu Enterprises is . . .”

  “The same corporate empire,” Abby’s computer continued, “that Earnie Nuu created and passed to his daughter on his death. Upon her apparent death, control of all stocks in that corporation passed to her surviving husband, Raymond Longknife. He lacked interest in running the business end, so it passed through various CEOs before their son, Alexander Longknife gleefully took over the job. He has run it for the past twenty years.”

  Sandy eyed her two visitors. “You can’t be telling me that it’s Rita Nuu-Longknife who really owns all the stock in Nuu Enterprises?”

  “That is exactly what Granny Rita is claiming in court,” Abby said. “She’s also threatening to go back to Wardhaven and have it out with ‘little Alex.’ Our JAG officers had a nearly impossible time keeping a straight face as they presented this case with her sitting, plain as day, at their table. She even had a modiste put together a business suit that was the height of fashion when the last convoy left Wardhaven.”

  Amber paused in her chuckling just long enough to add, “The old commodore hasn’t forgotten any of what she learned at her old man’s knee. She’s not dead, and everything that was done assuming she was is now piffle.”

  “You never want to pick a fight with that old gal,” Sandy said, shaking her head, “if you can avoid it. So, where do we stand?”

  “The court’s in recess. I don’t think even a bought judge is willing to rule against Rita Nuu-Longknife. There has been a motion for her to provide a DNA sample for comparison to the sample from other Longknifes in the official records database. It seems to be taking more time than they planned.”

  “Did it get lost?” Sandy asked, drolly.

  “Maybe. Don’t know because the judge ordered it sealed and then adjourned. It won’t be opened until the next time he holds court.”

  “So, they’re running.”

  “Yep. Also, with you back, Viceroy, would you mind extending the USMJ to all of Canopus station?”

  That reminded Sandy of one of the many hats she now wore. She was King Raymond I’s Viceroy in the Alwa System, as well
as Commander of the Alwa Defense Sector. Kris Longknife had worn both those hats as well as CEO of all Nuu Enterprise property in the Alwa System.

  As far as the means of production in the Alwan System at the moment, no one was quite sure who effectively owned the nationalized property. The native birds to the system had no idea what property was. The human colonials squabbled among themselves a lot, although they had agreed that the nationalized property would stay nationalized. The immigrants from human space and the assigned Navy personnel had not organized themselves in any civic manner. However, Sandy would not put it past them to form a city, country, or other political unit if Abby so much as dropped her hat.

  “Is it time for us to try and organize a planetary government?” Sandy asked.

  Abby shook her head. “We’ve been talking about that, both with the colonial government and the honchos running things up here and we don’t think that’s a good idea. At least not yet. All the humans in the system could, however we’re just a minority out here. The birds own this planet. It’s their home and no one wants to take it away from them. We humans have had enough experience with aboriginal and native peoples getting the short end of the stick when immigrants with high tech show up.”

  Sandy nodded. “Kris Longknife was insistent that this bird civilization be protected, unlike the historical mistreatment of her native American ancestors.”

  “That’s our problem,” Abby said. “Most of the birds are still at the tribal stage. Even the Roosters only have their Assembly of Assemblies, and that was more a debating society than a decision-making body. Whether dealing with the Roosters, Ostriches, or other birds that were just now being contacted, their concept of private property and ownership, as well as cash money, was limited to only those individual birds that had accepted jobs with the humans. And even there, most of the first-generation workers just wanted to work long enough to earn something they could take back to their tribe. Say, a rifle, solar-powered TV, commlink, or bike. Barter, yes. Cash, no.”