Kris Longknife - Emissary Page 12

“I’m on board with you, Admiral,” Commodore Ajax said. “I as well,” the other commodore said, though his adam’s apple bobbed a bit as he swallowed hard.

  “Good, then shall we set the new fleet course.”

  In a moment that was done. Feeling half again heavier, Kris still stood her ground before the main screen. “Now that that’s done, Ajax, take command of Task Force 1. I want recommendations from you before the end of this day for filling the squadron commands. Ah,” Nelly provided a name, “Commodore Afon, you now have command of Task Force 2. I’ll need the same recommendations from you, too.”

  “Aye, aye, Admiral,” came from both of them and they clicked off.

  Kris turned to Jack. He gave her a cheerful grin. “You’re coming up in the world. Now you’re relieving admirals, not a lowly commander. So, my admiral, does it get any easier relieving people?”

  Kris plopped herself down in the nearest station chair. Nelly immediately turned it into a relaxing massage chair. “Thank you, Nelly. Comm, get me a line to the Iteeche flagship. I need to talk to Ron.”

  In a moment, the Iteeche was on screen. With his high collar and bland face, Kris could read no emotions, no nothing from him.

  “It seems we may have been misinformed about the peaceful state that abides in the Iteeche Empire,” she said trying to suppress the sarcasm she so wanted to dip those words in.

  “It appears that you may have been,” Ron admitted.

  “You want to fill me in on what I and my king may have missed in translation.”

  “It was not lost in translation. It was never said.”

  “And that is?”

  “The Empire is wracked by internecine strife as several satrap pashas reach for the Imperial purple.”

  “Oh, damn,” Kris muttered.

  Chapter 17

  Having made that fascinating revelation, Ron fell silent, adding nothing to words that now meant everything to Kris.

  She considered her next words carefully and chose to ask him for simple, factual answer. “We have recognized four different variations in the battlecruiser forces facing us. Five if we include your force. Does that mean that four satraps are in alliance against the Emperor?

  “Actually, thirty-three of the hundred and thirty-two have refused their proper allegiance . . . worship . . . your language does not have anything that properly expresses what is expected from an Iteeche to the Emperor.”

  “You and Nelly can work on that later,” Kris said. “What about all the humans that are in the Iteeche Empire to help in your ship construction? How have they not known about this bit of squabbling? Oh, and how safe are they at present?”

  “Just as your people have seen to it that various technologies that we would very much like to have are denied to us, we have made sure the transient humans have stayed, ah, in the dark about our difficulties. Some work for the Empire. Some work for the wild satraps. We all need them and feared that if you knew of our situation, you might cut off all access. There are what you might call neutral ships that pass freely between satraps.”

  “And we need your help for our power plants,” Kris added.

  “Yes, we very much rely upon each other.”

  Jack had stepped out of range of the camera and was motioning at Kris.

  “Ron, can I get back to you in a few minutes? I need to think on what you’ve just told me.”

  “I will be awaiting your pleasure,” the Iteeche said, and clicked off.

  “Kris,” Nelly put in immediately, “That ‘awaiting your pleasure,’ Ron said. He’s treating you like he would the Emperor.”

  “I wonder what it’s worth,” Abby drawled.

  “Possibly a lot,” Jacques put in. “I’ve been studying what we’ve got on the Iteeche and no one stands before the Emperor without his granting the boon, and only a few can beg the boon. Everyone else grovels face down on their hands and knees. Very demanding, these folks.”

  “Well, Jack, why were you waving at me?”

  “Kris, what kind of a war are these people fighting?” Jack asked.

  “Yeah,” Kris agreed with the question.

  “Look at what we know. Our teams on the major industrial planets have seen no sign of war, so we can assume there have been no attacks wreaking havoc dirtside. Not even terrorist attacks. Ships can pass from one zone to another. Our people can travel from one zone to another without sensing any difference or discomfort. The Emperor even lets new engineers come in and pass through to the planet they’ve been hired for even if they are in rebellion.”

  “It sounds way too civilized for any kind of war we humans wage,” Jacques observed.

  “Is it any kind of war we’re used to? Nelly, look over the order the hostiles sent to Ron. Did it actually say they’d blow us to bits?”

  “It did, Kris, but there was a lot more surrender talk before you got to there. There was some I skipped over when I spotted the last phrase. The hostiles were very clear that Ron was badly outnumbered. It was his duty to surrender because he had no chance of winning a fight. I think there was a slur on us humans with a jab that you couldn’t count our ships as equal to an Iteeche.”

  “So, they don’t think much of us,” Kris said, and grinned. “I like that in an enemy. Okay, Nelly, get me Ron back.”

  A moment later the Iteeche was staring back at Kris. “We’ve been looking over the message you got demanding your surrender. If we’re reading it right, it wasn’t a demand, more like an offer that they expected you to accept, what with us being so outnumbered and the human ships not counting for much.”

  “They did not say that you do not count for much. They concluded that you might only be worth three-fourths of an Iteeche battlecruiser in a fight,” Ron said, blandly.

  Kris eyed the alien, thinking he was a lot more alien this afternoon than she’d thought of him since they’d spent so much time together on the old Wasp. “Let’s say that you were caught with, maybe your sixteen ships and another twenty-four Iteeche built and crewed battlecruisers. Let’s say that they have sixty-four or one hundred and twenty-eight. If you got that message, would you take the surrender option?”

  “I would. To fight would be hopeless. No one would dare to waste ships and personnel. Not with the two-eyed alien monsters coming for us at any time. No, I would surrender and live to fight a worse enemy.”

  “Thank you for your honesty, Ron. You know, of course, that I am my King’s representative to your Emperor and I cannot allow my embassy to fall into rebel hands.”

  “I suspected that you humans might see things differently. That is why I did not answer and why my ships are following your formation. I remember well your wild and completely unreasonable decision to attack the alien raiders in order to save one planet that meant nothing to you. And that you continued to fight for that planet against impossible odds. We cannot understand your reasoning. It strikes us as foolish, even nonsense. But I am ordered to deliver you safely to my Emperor and since you insist that I fulfill my orders, I shall.”

  “I think you just gave me a compliment, Ron.”

  “Hardly, Emissary. No Iteeche would feel complimented by my words, but I forget, you are an alien.”

  “To you, and you are an alien to me. We must succeed in building bridges to each other’s differences.”

  “It would be nice if we could live long enough to do that, Your Highness. So, tell me. You are outgunned. You are outnumbered. What are you thinking about?”

  “That a Longknife is never outclassed,” Kris said. Ron failed to get the joke, though it drew scowls and shrugs around Kris’s flag bridge.

  “I propose that we run away for now. My fleet has not done enough gunnery practice or maneuvering in battle formations to please me. I intend to correct that. Then, I may discover a plan somewhere.”

  “I most sincerely hope you do,” the Iteeche said, and clicked off.

  Kris found herself in that old familiar place, a hundred things that needed doing and way too little time to do it in.
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br />   “Nelly, talk to me about this course. Put it on screen with the probable tracts of the two hostile forces.”

  The main screen on Kris’s flag bridge switched to show the entire system they were in. Then it zoomed in to just thrust vectors of the three fleets. Inertia kept Kris’s force sliding toward the first Iteeche set of rebels even as the humans set a course to the third jump. Having the ships split their power in a vector half devoted to deceleration and the other half to getting out of there, it looked like it would succeed in keeping Kris well away from the oncoming aliens.

  Of course, that assumed the hostile Iteeche kept to one gee while Kris pushed away from them at one point five.

  “Nelly, keep an eye on the fleet we’re trying not to meet. If they jack up their power, we’ll need to jack ours up immediately.”

  “Aye, aye, Admiral.”

  “Next, Nelly, how good are our merchant adventurers at keeping up with one point five gees?”

  “No problem for most. However, the Korfu’s Bet and the I Knew I Could are struggling.”

  “Get their skippers on the line,” Kris ordered.

  Quickly two merchant captains, neither one in anything resembling a uniform, filled the screen. “Two questions, gentlemen. Can you maintain this acceleration and if I have to go to two point five gees, can you do so?” Kris asked.

  Both men winced at the questions and settled for shrugs.

  “The Bet wasn’t designed for this kind of thing. We made runs well away from pirates. You’ve got us pushing the old girl about to her limit now.”

  “Same for the Could, ma’am.”

  Kris suppressed a sigh. The merchant ships had been told they had to be ready for 3.5 gees when they joined her fleet. So much for civilians paying attention to orders.

  “If we have to go to two point five gees in a hurry,” Kris said, “our longboats won’t be able to make a trip over to your ships and back. Do you have any of your crew that you want or will allow to transfer to a warship at this time?”

  Both men exchanged worried looks at someone off screen. In a moment, both were joined by women. “I’ll stay with my man,” one said. “Me, too,” the other added.

  “But there is no need for our kids to risk this,” one captain said.

  The other captain was more specific. “I’d prefer to keep the smallest possible crew aboard, Hon, and get the rest of you over there now.” He turned to Kris. “What do you think those four-legged, four-eyed beasties intend to do with us?”

  Kris shook her head. “I have no idea. It’s possible that they’ll let you surrender. What that will mean for you, your ship and your cargo, I have no idea. They want me. They’ve offered me a chance to surrender, but I’ve have my orders from my king to go to the Emperor’s Court and present my credentials. These rebels don’t want me to. I’m told that the rebels haven’t interfered with human travel throughout the Empire. Of course, they have never tried to stop one of His Majesty’s ships from free transit.”

  “So nice things could happen, or all bets could be off and bad things could start going down,” one of the women said.

  “I’m afraid that none of those can be discounted.”

  That was enough for one woman. “If you could have a longboat here in an hour, we’ll get the kids and any crew that want to go off to you on that boat.”

  “I want you on it, Love,” her captain told her.

  “Want all you want, Honey, but I still know how to stand an Engineering watch and that’s where I’ll be if we can’t keep up.”

  Kris interrupted what she suspected would be an hour-long argument. “I’ll have longboats over to both of you in an hour. If you’ll excuse me, my day has suddenly developed a very long To Do list.”

  “You take care of your knitting, Dear, and I’ll take care of boxing a bossy captain’s ears,” one of the women said, and the screen went blank.

  “I wouldn’t want to be on the bridge of either of those two boats for the next couple of hours,” Amanda said through a grin.

  “Yeah,” Kris agreed. “Now, Nelly, get me Commodores Ajax and Afon.”

  The two young task force commanders were on the main screen before Kris could blink.

  “We await your orders,” Ajax said.

  “I’m more interested in what you two can do for me.”

  “Oh,” showed little surprise from Ajax.

  “Yes. You two know the fleet and its readiness status. Ajax, you’ve served under me in a fight or two. You know what I expect from my fighting ships.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “What do we need to do to get this fleet ready to fight outnumbered three to one and win?” Kris asked.

  “How much time can you give us to draft up an action plan for you?” Ajax asked. “We know we’ll need ship drills, gunnery practice and maneuvering exercises. Oh, and ma’am, the admiral had my division absorb all the extra piping for the maneuvering jets and switch the Smart Metal to armor. We’ll need to see that all the ships are properly modified to jink to your evasion patterns.”

  “We’ll start that immediately,” Kris said.

  That was one of her greatest frustrations as Battlecruiser Force commander. She, of course, had changed the design for all battlecruisers under her command on Alwa Station to have extra-large maneuvering jets. They needed them to fight the kind of battle she intended. However, it seemed that a captain had certain prerogatives. He could make minor adjustments to his ship.

  On Alwa, Kris had used that prerogative to enlarge the jets.

  However, it could go the other way just as well. Officers like Darlan were quick to reduce the jets and deepen their armor a millimeter or so. They argued that it was a better use of the metal. Kris rated those changes as a black mark during her readiness inspections, but she could not persuade higher ups that the larger jets needed to be made a standard for all battlecruisers.

  She was told that until her doctrine on the use of battlecruisers in combat was approved, there was no reason to enforce standards for jets on the fleet.

  This was one of many reasons Kris liked the idea of being the first human ambassador to the Iteeche Emperor’s Court. Even with a hundred plus Iteeche battlecruisers on her tail, it still seemed like the better choice.

  Or maybe not.

  “Include the chief of staff on the Bold on this, but get me that action plan quick. A draft would be nice in an hour. We can refine it as we go along, but I want to get started putting combat revolutions on our ships as soon as possible.”

  “Captain Tosan asked us to include her in any contact we had with you. She’s been listening in quietly on all we’ve said. We all will be back to you in an hour,” Ajax said, and clicked off.

  Kris was surprised the chief of staff had done that. A paranoid person might think she was spying. A more trusting soul might praise her for exercising her initiative. Kris shrugged; she’d wait to see how things settled out.

  Jack brought her out of her ruminating. “So, my dear admiral, what mole do we whack first?”

  Kris blew him a tiny, inconspicuous air kiss and said. “Comm, I want a report from each ship of the fleet immediately on the status of its maneuvering jets. Is it standard or has it been modified? Grand Admiral Longknife sends.”

  Jack leaned close and whispered, “Grand admiral? Isn’t that laying it on a bit thick.”

  “Jack, I just relieved a three star admiral. I think I better put my five star chop on my message traffic for a bit.”

  Jack had nothing to add to that.

  “Nelly, put up a fleet list. Show me how the ships’ captains report and how quickly.”

  A new list appeared on the left side of the screen. All ships were in red. Even as Kris watched, the ships of Battlecruiser Squadron 13 turned black. No surprise there, Ajax’s squadron would be ready to answer all bells.

  It took five minutes for the other ships to report back. Some turned black, but they were only a few. Most ended up blinking red. When all of them were one or the other
, Kris said, “You can quit blinking the problem children, Nelly. Comm, all ships that have modified their maneuvering jets will work with my computer during the next hour to correct that. Grand Admiral Longknife sends.”

  Kris looked at the board. “Nelly, turn green the ones that have contacted you and have you working with them.” Task Force 1 turned green almost immediately. The sixteen ships of Task Force 2 took a bit longer. Two minutes later, three ships still showed red.

  “Is there a problem, Nelly?”

  “I haven’t heard a peep out of them, Kris.”

  Kris allowed herself a scowl. “Get their skippers on the horn, Nelly.”

  Standing, Kris smoothed her face to Navy bland. She was ready as the three captains came on screen.

  “Is there a problem, gentlemen?” One was a woman, but Kris was in no mood for a long talk.

  The three glanced to their right and left, taking in on screen the resolve of their slow associates. The woman cleared her throat.

  “Admiral, Your Highness, we are aware that your flag has five stars on it, but we’re also aware that the promotion was mostly honorary to improve your negotiating position with the Iteeche.”

  “I had four stars before that, and I earned them by killing alien base ships and wiping out their wolf packs of warships,” Kris said, her words cold steel.

  “That was a while ago,” one of the other captains chimed in. “Ships have changed a lot. We’ve got 24-inch guns. Does jitterbugging around do a ship like mine any good?”

  “Last time I checked, lasers still moved at the speed of light. In the time it takes a laser beam to travel 200,000 kilometers, a ship can be ten, fifteen or more kilometers from where it was. If you stay on a steady course, they will predict your future location and they will nail you. You jink every two or three seconds, one is better, and you won’t be where they’re aiming. What do you have against jinking?” she asked, having made the case for her order.

  What am I doing debating my orders with commanders?

  Then Kris remembered how good a subordinate she’d been, herself, and cut the three some slack. Some slack, but not a whole lot.