Daring

31

Kris continued to use the Forward Lounge for her Tac Center. It had room for Ron and his two advisors as well as Vicky and Maggie. The doctor was shocked to discover the topic of conversation and tended to sit one table away from them and look on with only slightly controlled horror. She would join in when Penny said something against the idea of going to war. Mostly, she just watched.

The Iteeche took over a corner and had their own long and occasionally loud argument. Nelly offered to eavesdrop, but Kris told her not to. They needed their privacy. When Ron was ready, he’d tell them what he and his advisors had agreed upon.

When the Iteeche meeting was done, the Army officer stomped out of the room, and Ron and Ted, his Navy officer, rejoined Kris’s team.

“You don’t have to tell us what that was about if you don’t want to,” Kris said.

“We swam in the same waters you muddied up during your feeding,” Ron said. “The Army advisor does not see that we have the will of the Emperor in what you are thinking to do. He is opposed to our riding along with you and insists that I either command you in the name of the Emperor to halt this plan or that we at least leave in one of your courier boats and return to the Empire.”

“Do you want to?” Kris asked.

“No. I do not like the choice of fish swimming upstream any more than you do, but it is the choice that has been given to us. We cannot turn away from it. Besides, these bird folk may be a helpful ally in the war ahead. Are we so plentiful that we can allow those who may swim with us to be eaten already?”

“A good thought,” Kris said.

“So we have a very unhappy Iteeche aboard,” Jack said. “Kris, would you mind if I check in on him?”

“Please do.”

“Captain Drago, an Iteeche just left the Forward Lounge.”

“Yes, our security team noticed him stomp out. We don’t have any experts at alien body language, but the betting up here is that he is not a happy camper.”

“Sad but true,” Jack said. “You know how our princess affects some people. Could you keep an eye on him?”

“Already doing it, Marine. Our disaffected Iteeche just locked himself in Iteeche country. If you’ll post some Marines as an honor guard there, we can make sure he stays there.”

“Done, and thank you, Captain.”

Jack’s next call was to his Marine duty officer. A watch was quickly posted.

An hour later, Captain Drago dropped down to check with Kris on the load for the 12-inch high-acceleration torpedoes.

“Load antimatter,” Kris said.

“How much?” the captain asked.

“How much?”

“I’ve been talking with some of the professor’s boffins, and they think we can double-load them. Maybe even quadrupleload them.”

“Is that safe?” Jack asked.

“Not for any length of time, no,” the captain said. “The containment systems in the warheads are lightweight, and that means limited strength and duration. However, if we load the antimatter just before we fire the warheads, they should be good for fifteen minutes. Maybe double that.”

“You’re taking a great risk,” Jack said.

“If Your Highness here has us hunting BEMs, I think antimatter warheads popping off early may be the least of our worries.”

“Do you disagree with us taking on the bug-eyed monsters, Captain Drago?” Kris asked. He was the contractor captain hired by her king. While Admiral Krätz’s threat to shoot the Wasp out of space seemed unlikely, Captain Drago could put an end to any of Kris’s plans by simply locking her in her stateroom and heading the Wasp off in any direction that pleased him.

So long as the captain didn’t do Kris any bodily harm, she sincerely doubted Jack would do anything to stop the Wasp’s skipper from doing something that probably would cut down on her likelihood of ending up suddenly dead.

The captain took in a long breath and let it out slowly. “I suspect your grampa may have me keelhauled for following you on this mission if you order us to take on the bug-eyed monsters. However, there are times when people do what they have to do. If you say it is war, I and my crew will follow you. If you say go home, I think we will all breathe a long sigh of relief and go home. However, if we abandon that planet of bird people to the tender mercies of those space raiders, I don’t think any of us will sleep all that well. Probably for the rest of our lives. Hell of a choice you have there, Your Highness. Glad I don’t have to make it myself.”

He snapped to and saluted her. He didn’t wait for her to return the honor but turned for the door of the lounge. “Let me know when you make your final decision,” he called over his shoulder.

“I wondered how he’d take to it all,” Penny said. “I guess that settled whether or not you find yourself locked in your room tomorrow and the Wasp headed for home.”

“I was wondering about that, myself,” Kris said, her voice not rising above a whisper.

Actually, she’d been wondering about it for several years. When would this governor sent by her great-grandfather rise up to take her down? At first, that was what she expected, someone to cut her off and substitute his mature judgment for her youthful exuberance.

Of late, as Captain Drago followed her orders more and more, she began to wonder if there ever would be a time when he would cut her off, or had she come into herself? Come to her command?

That time had come, and, for better or worse, the crew of the Wasp would follow her through hell and, with any luck, back out again.

She shivered. That was a heavy burden to bear. If she’d followed a normal Navy career, at some point the Navy would have assigned her a ship, and she would have had orders promoting her to god for that ship and its crew.

Nothing about Kris’s life had gone normal.

She smiled to herself. She had a ship, and they were her crew.

And after that wonderful moment, Kris found herself with time on her hands, where each minute seemed like an hour, and each hour flew like a second.

She was already familiar with the irony of time in these situations. In a few days, lives might be lost for the lack of a few seconds. However, for now, they had to wait. Wait for others to do their job.

And waiting took forever.

Kris checked in with Nelly every hour to see how things were going on the translation effort. Every hour Nelly told Kris to hold her horses and not juggle their elbows.

The first time it was funny. By the twelfth time it was starting to bother her. Checks with the Vulcan showed the usual problems, none a showstopper. Those who had work were lost in it. Those who had duties went about them, checking and rechecking systems, weapons, defenses.

Kris would make the final decision whether many of them would live or die, but for now, she waited. Waited to verify that the mother ship shared a common ancestry with the space raiders. Waited to see if they had weapons that could make a difference.

Waited. Waited. Waited.

Reports came in from the other ships of PatRon 10; they had also built up their supply of antimatter during their walk-around. How should they distribute the antimatter?

Kris ordered them to load antimatter warheads for their 12-inch high-acceleration torpedoes, but not a double load. The torpedoes would help the corvettes fight their way out of the close quarters she was about to order them into.

All their other extra antimatter would juice up the neutron torpedoes. Those were her only hope of crippling the mother ship. If they could pull that off, they all just might live to tell their tales.

The captains accepted her orders without question.

To have such godlike power over other people’s lives sent a shiver up Kris’s back.

Eighteen hours into the wait, Nelly interrupted Kris and Penny from another discussion of the right and wrong of their options.

“Kris, Professor mFumbo wants to talk to you in person. He suggests you get the admirals on conference.”

“Make it so, Nelly.”

“Aye, aye, ma’am.”