Intrepid

6

A week later, the Wasp led the Compton toward the space station above Cuzco. ''The stationmaster regrets that he only has two docks unoccupied,'' Captain Drago reported. ''One can offload containers. I told him to put the Compton in it. That leaves us with only one place to go.''

''Is there a problem?'' Kris asked, knowing from the way Drago was drawing this out that she was asking a needless question.

''We'll be across the way from a Greenfeld light cruiser.''

''They've got a Greenfeld cruiser in port.'' Jack grinned. ''I hope we're not interrupting anything,'' did not sound at all like the Marine meant it.

''What ship?'' Kris asked.

''The light cruiser Surprise,'' Drago said, with his own tight smile at the appropriateness of the name.

''Does Georg Krätz still command her?'' Kris asked.

Sulwan looked up from her board. ''Harbormaster's records say he does.''

''Good, I've had several fine dances with the man,'' Kris said, beaming. ''He's the father of several girls, all interested in naval careers, just like their father. I suggested that he and they would have far more successful careers in the Wardhaven Navy than they could ever hope to have in anything controlled by Greenfeld. I'm looking forward to continuing our conversations.''

Jack rolled his eyes.

Kris sniffed. ''If you Marines can think of war as a continuation of politics by other means, why can't a princess continue politics by socializing?''

Next day, Kris got her chance to socialize or politic or maybe fight a very small war.

A handsome—one might say dashing—young Greenfeld lieutenant approached the Wasp's quarterdeck, offered his captain's compliments, and asked if his captain might have the pleasure of Princess Kristine Longknife's company at dinner that night.

Kris would have turned down an invitation to the Surprise's wardroom as too risky, but Krätz was wise enough to choose the most expensive … and neutral … restaurant on the space station. After only a minor argument with Jack, Kris sent her acceptance down to the JOOD, and the deal was done.

''I'm going with you,'' Jack muttered.

''I expected you to. Jack, you dance as well as he does.''

Kris politely did not hear Jack's answer to that.

''I gonna have to gussy you up all princesslike?'' was Abby's only question.

''Nope,'' Kris said. ''Formal Navy dinner dress. Small medals. Skip the Wounded Lion. He's seen my ribbons. I've seen his. We know who we are,'' Kris said, with a smile.

''I better tell Jack to tone it down,'' Abby said, and headed off to do just that. Four hours later, Kris almost regretted going Navy standard tonight. Surely, there was no uglier evening dress than what the Navy put its women in. The skirt hung like a burlap bag. The blouse was uncomfortable.

''You're wishing you were in a nice set of petticoats and crinolines,'' Jack whispered beside her.

''Security officers are not authorized to read my mind no matter what the latest new law may say,'' Kris shot back, and moved forward. Jack opened the door for her, resplendent in his dress red and blues. A sword and issue sidearm hung from his belt. No such allowance was made for the women, so Kris had her automatic hidden in the usual place.

Kris was three steps into the restaurant when she spotted Captain Krätz standing up from his table. He was accompanied by a young ensign. She wore formal Greenfeld Navy evening dress that managed the impossible. She looked worse in it than Kris did in hers. Clearly the women haters in Greenfeld's military had bested their kin on Wardhaven.

Distracted by the uniform, it took Kris an extra moment to identify the woman in it.

She almost missed a step.

Beside her, Jack's nostrils flared, but he manfully suppressed a snort.

Kris took a quick glance around the room. It was early, still well lit, and almost empty. But around the captain's table were four occupied ones. The men at them were in civilian clothes, but there was no mistaking the hard bodies under those clothes, the close haircuts, and the steely look to their eyes.

Were any of them hers? Kris spotted two women Marines she knew only too well from their doing bathroom guard duty for her. Four Wardhaven Marines, four others.

Krätz had observed the niceties.

Kris allowed herself one more second for a glance at the room, not to take in its expensive décor, but rather to note the right-hand corner of the room, where the few other customers were huddled over their food, meticulously not making eye contact with those on the left side.

Very likely, it would be a quiet dinner. No, very likely the fireworks would be reserved for the main table.

Secure that her back was covered, Kris focused her full attention on the main table. Krätz, despite a bit of graying around the temple … or maybe because of it … was magnificent in his formal blue and whites.

Beside him, somehow made frumpy by Greenfeld formal naval dinner dress, stood Ensign Victoria Peterwald. Ensign!

Kris didn't know where to start; she had so many questions.

Krätz started for her, sweeping her a full bow from the waist. When the young woman beside him balked, it took only a slight tap to her elbow to make clear that She's a princess, you are not, and this is Navy business, and we will do it my way.

Vicky chipped off a quick shallow curtsy.

But her captain stayed in his full bow.

With a scowl, Vicky curtsied again. Lower. And did not recover, but went a bit lower. Then some more.

Finally, her head was even with her captain's.

Only then did Kris smile and give them a most regal nod of the royal head. ''Thank you, Captain, Ensign, but we are in Cuzco space, and I seriously doubt their government recognizes United Sentients patents of ennoblement.''

''But graciousness is recognized throughout human space,'' the good captain said, rising from his bow. ''Your Highness, may I present to you my new junior communications watch officer, Ensign Victoria Smythe-Peterwald.''

''I am glad that we are finally formally introduced,'' Kris said, forgetting for the moment the several times they had informally tried to kill each other.

''It is good to meet you,'' came from the ensign, as if each word out of her mouth was a snake or spider out of the fairy tales.

As Jack held Kris's chair for her to sit, the captain did the same for the young woman. She seemed startled by the chivalry.

You have an awful lot to learn, Miss Vicky, Kris thought to herself. So do I, but at least I know I do.

Kris decided to open the conversation. ''I was rather surprised to see the Surprise tied up along the next pier. If it isn't a state secret, can I ask how you come to be here?''

''Some people might consider it just such a state secret,'' Captain Krätz said, with a chuckle and a glance at the young woman he was escorting. ''But a look at the ship you escorted in tells me that both our planets are likely concerned about the same matter. How did that freighter come to be so shot up?''

''I'm afraid that I did it,'' Kris said, not quite succeeding at looking bashful. That only got her raised eyebrows from both the captain and the ensign.

''It fired on the Wasp while we were making like an unarmed merchant,'' Kris said in formal report mode. ''I was on weapons and returned the compliment. I put a twenty-four-inch pulse laser through their bridge, and that was the end of the discussion.''

''Just like you did to my brother,'' Victoria Peterwald shot back.

''Ensign, we talked about that,'' the captain said, giving warning.

Kris shook her head. ''Excuse me, Captain, if you will,'' Kris said, ''Ensign Peterwald and I need to get this out in the open. She may never agree with me, but she needs to hear my side.'' Kris turned her full attention to Victoria.

''You killed my brother just like you did that freighter crew,'' Vicky got in first.

''I was involved in your brother's death, but not ‘just like' those people on the pirate's bridge.''

Vicky's mouth was half-open, a retort already coming, but with a glance at the glower on her captain's face, she bit it off and shut her mouth.

''Your brother had my ship on the ropes. It was his ship and crew or mine. I fired six-inch lasers, aimed for his engines, not bridge. His evasion actions, or maybe it was just dumb luck, put his bridge where we were aiming.

''On his ship, every crewman had a survival pod. We did not find a single one on that pirate ship. When I opened up their bridge, they were all doomed. Most of their bodies were blown out into space.

''On your brother's ship, they all activated their survival pods. With the exception of your brother's, they all worked. His didn't. Consider that.''

Kris paused. She studied the beautiful blue eyes across from her. Tried to measure the acceptance, the comprehension in them. It didn't look like much, but there was some.

''There is one more thing I can add, though I doubt if anyone in my government will back me up.''

''What is that?'' Captain Krätz asked.

''If it's not a state secret, could you tell me what were the series numbers of the survival pods on the Incredible?''

''The Incredible and the Surprise were built at the same time. We all used 68000 series pods.''

Kris nodded. ''The defective pods on the battleships we fought at Wardhaven all had a 90000 series identifier. Do you know what was the number on Hank's pod?''

Both Krätz and Vicky shook their heads in silence.

''I have a picture of his pod. I could show it to you now, but I won't.'' Hank's body was still in the pod. That was one picture Kris did not want to show Vicky. There were still pictures from poor Eddy's kidnapping that Kris had never seen. Would never see.

''Do you know Hank's survival pod number?'' Vicky asked.

''Ninety-seven thousand, five hundred, and twelve,'' Kris said.

''Holy Mother of God,'' Captain Krätz muttered.

''That's impossible,'' Vicky said.

Kris rolled her hand, palm up on the table. ''My computer has all the photos taken on my space station of your brother's pod, both before it was opened and after. Several of them clearly show the pod number. Do you know the pod number on your battle station, Ensign?'' Kris asked.

The woman looked at her captain. ''Yes I do.''

''I also know mine,'' the captain said. ''And it's nowhere near a ninety thousand.''

''Why was I never told this?'' Vicky demanded.

Now it was her captain's turn to roll his hands open, palms up.

''Do you believe her?'' Vicky spat.

The captain was silent for a long minute. ''There is talk, late at night, in the back rooms of private clubs,'' he said slowly. ''Some in the Navy wonder. Some in the Navy remember Ralf Baja and Bhutta Saris and wonder why they're not around anymore. The Navy is not that big a place, and you can't have the crews of six super battleships vanish without them being missed. So, yes, ma'am, if you had to pick between the words of a woman who, just as cool as could be, shot out a pirate's bridge, and the babbling of a political officer, whom would you trust?''

A waiter appeared, kept his distance until several sets of guards waved him forward, then took orders from only those at Kris's table. He had been well briefed and left quickly.

''I don't believe you,'' Vicky whispered, when the waiter was well gone.

''Care to tell me why?'' Kris asked.

''Let's say my dad's Navy just tried to pound your planet into rubble. Let's say you were decorated for stopping them. How many friends did you lose?''

''A lot,'' Kris said evenly.

''And yet, you are sitting here talking to me, my captain here. Eating dinner with us. No. You're lying.''

Kris nodded slowly. ''How much history have you studied?''

''Quite a bit,'' Vicky claimed.

''What happens when two evenly matched countries go to war?''

Vicky seemed to puzzle over that one for a while, then glanced at her captain.

''When two nations of nearly equal strength resort to war to resolve their differences, it is usually a disaster for both,'' the Greenfeld officer said. ''The war is long, bitter, and indecisive. Neither side can win, but neither side will give up. Generations may perish in the fight. Nations' treasures may waste away, and nothing is proven. Is that what you are alluding to, Your Highness?''

''That is what the wiser heads in my father's high command tell me when I get angry at the deaths.''

''That is what the wiser heads in our command councils say,'' Captain Krätz said. ''So far, they have prevailed.''

''Why are you telling her this?'' Vicky asked her captain.

''You could just as easily ask her the same.''

Vicky turned to Kris, her eyes questioning.

Kris shrugged. ''Two plus two is four. A war between ninety planets and a hundred will be a bleeding ulcer. Neither of these facts can be made a state secret. Only a fool would try. I'm not asking your captain how many battleships are building on Greenfeld. He's not asking me about Wardhaven or Pitts Hope. He has his guess, I have mine. We probably aren't off by more than two or three. But none of that really is worth the time of day. Let me ask you something I'd really like to know,'' Kris said, turning to the captain.

''I have four armed security men to my back. I assume you will not ask me to commit treason within their hearing,'' he said through a broad smile.

''I will assume they have no better sense of humor than my Marine escorts do,'' Kris said. There were chuckles from both groups of guards.

Kris waited as the salad arrived, unfolded a napkin in defense of her disgusting evening dress, and picked up a fork. The others did likewise, but waited when Kris paused before spearing a bit of her Caesar salad.

''Why are you here?'' Kris asked Vicky.

''I was drafted and ordered to the Surprise,'' she grumbled. ''Now I go where he goes,'' she said, with a rueful nod to her captain.

As Kris so often did, Vicky had given her an answer, but only the tip of one. Kris wondered if that was all of the answer Vicky really knew.

''Georg,'' Kris said, staking a regal right to a familiarity that a junior officer of her rank had no call on. ''How many Greenfeld naval officers have as great a love of daughters as you have?''

The captain had started to frown at the familiarity. After all, he was trying to break one trillionaire daughter to junior-officer status and needed Kris to help, not hinder. But now he smiled.

''I don't think there's a captain in the fleet who's resigned himself to enjoying, maybe I should say, surviving, feminine surroundings as much as I have.''

''Your oldest,'' Kris went on. ''She should have graduated from college by now. Did she join the Navy?''

Now it was the captain's turn to ruefully shake his head. ''Commissioned in the Nursing Corps on her graduation day.''

''Is she on the Surprise?''

''I would have gladly had her here, but there is a boy.''

''Isn't there always?'' Kris interjected.

''Sad to say, yes. He comes from a good family, and he is on a battleship. So she asked for orders to that battleship.''

''Do you trust him?''

The look Kris got from the captain was a puzzle she could not fathom. He almost smiled as he started again. ''I will let you in on a state secret, Longknife girl. In Greenfeld, a loyal wife, be she wealthy or poor, will take nine months to present her husband with a fit little baby. However, blushing brides, in their eagerness, almost always do it in six or seven months. Strange that, no.''

The security guards behind the captain relaxed into their seats. Kris had no doubt that had the captain begun to reveal a more technical detail, they would have dragged him away. But from the smirks on their faces, a few of them might well be married and already beneficiaries of that bridal miracle.

''And your daughter?''

''Has been courted for almost six months and is still on active duty.''

Kris's confused frown at that brought a dry ''Get pregnant, get discharged'' from Vicky.

''How medieval,'' Kris said.

''I mentioned that to my father,'' Vicky said, her voice desert dry. ''Let's say we agreed to disagree. Thank God I know where to get birth control.''

''Not on my ship you don't,'' her captain said.

The ensign wisely filled her mouth with her salad.

Kris stepped in to redirect the conversation. ''When I asked why you are here, Vicky, I didn't mean in the Navy. What I was really asking was why you aren't back on Greenfeld. You cost your father a lot when he sent you to Eden, and I doubt your stay in the Navy will be any less expensive.'' The way Captain Krätz rolled his eyes cut Kris's doubt by half. ''But what I really wonder, girl to girl, is why you aren't tending to your knitting quietly back home?''

''I don't knit, and I never do anything quietly,'' Vicky shot back. ''And I could ask you the same question. Why aren't you doing something''—Vicky seemed at a loss for words … and settled for—''back on your lovely Wardhaven?''

''Why am I not on my lovely Wardhaven?'' Kris said, beginning to move rather tasty but probably horribly fattening croutons out of her salad and into a row. ''I don't want to be any closer to my mother or father than I have to.''

That got a snort from Vicky and a thoughtful look from Krätz.

''I'm committed to a naval career and for some strange reason, the fleet can't find any job for me near my father, the prime minister.'' That got a third crouton into rank and a dry chuckle from the ensign.

''I refuse to become involved in politics … and every time I get too near Wardhaven, I get sucked into that mess again, and my father gets even madder at me. How am I doing?''

Vicky now needed the napkin to suppress her laughter.

Captain Krätz eyed Jack and got a serious nod of validation. Then he shook his head. ''Your file is making better and better sense.''

''And if you report all this,'' Kris said, ''do you think it will make better sense to your intelligence analysts?''

''They wouldn't believe a word.''

''Then let me add one more bit of wisdom. They shipped me off to Eden because they thought it was the only place in human space where I'd be safe.''

''And you might have been if I hadn't been there,'' Vicky said proudly.

''Hire better assassins next time. I didn't even work up a sweat doing my escape and evade from those bozos.''

''I captured your grandmother,'' Vicky pointed out.

''Major mistake on your part. The Marines took it personal. You never want a Marine company personally mad at you.''

''You realize she's critiquing you,'' Captain Krätz said.

''I thought she was just bragging.''

''You might learn a thing or three if you listen to her. Your father or his minions have been trying to take her out for a long time, and she's still wrecking their plans.''

''More often than not, the only reason I'm messing with another's plans is ‘cause someone's messing with me,'' Kris said, with a sigh. ''I wish you'd just leave me alone.''

''Is that why you're out here?'' Vicky asked.

''I figured if I was out beyond the Rim, I might get some peace and quiet. That why you're out here?''

Vicky turned to her captain and raised an expressive eyebrow.

''Strange, isn't it,'' the captain said, ''when chasing after pirates is safer than being back home.''

''Are we chasing pirates,'' Vicky asked, ''or is the Surprise just pretending it is?''

Captain Krätz shrugged his shoulders. ''How'd you get a shot at a pirate?'' he asked Kris.

''Notice how the Wasp looks like a simple little merchant ship.'' They nodded. ''They took the first shot. I got the last one.''

Their steaks arrived with appropriate trimmings. Kris and the rest paid appropriate homage to them before Kris threw out the next question.

''How bad is it, being a boot ensign in the Greenfeld Navy? My memories of being the junior officer aboard ship are much more fondly memorable as they disappear in the rearview mirror.''

''You started as an ensign?'' Vicky asked.

''Yes,'' Kris said, ''with a captain who made my life far more miserable than I suspect Captain Krätz is making yours.''

Vicky raised her eyebrows as if to doubt that possibility.

''Making ensigns miserable is one of the prime perks of a captain's job,'' Captain Krätz insisted. ''Is that not so, Captain?'' he said to Jack.

''We have a thing called the Fifth Amendment, sir, and I'm going to invoke its protection, sir. Otherwise, I might have to apply for a transfer to your Navy.''

''We're always looking for a few good men.''

''What is it about men?'' Vicky exploded. ''I get handed this ensign gig. My brother starts out as a commodore. He bosses Captain Krätz around. Me, I get bossed around by just about everybody. It's not fair,'' she growled at her captain.

He said nothing, just took another bite of his steak, chewed it for a moment, and then waved his empty fork at Kris. ''As a lieutenant, two mighty promotions up from a lowly ensign, would you have any advice for my JO here?''

Kris thought the question over for a moment, then shrugged. ''As a wise chief once told me, if you don't want to be Navy, get out.''

Vicky scowled sidewise at her superior officer. He shook his head. ''That is not an option for the moment.''

''I see,'' Kris said. And thought some more. ''Your brother started his Navy career as a commodore.''

Vicky nodded vigorously at that.

''From where I sat, that was part of what killed him.''

''What!'' Vicky almost shouted.

''Do you disagree, Captain Krätz?'' Kris asked.

The captain patted his mouth with the white linen napkin and put it down. ''I can't say that I do.''

Vicky studied them for a long moment. Kris let the silence stretch. She was learning that more often than not more was learned in the quiet between words than was ever conveyed by them. Now she waited for the young Peterwald woman to show she was learning … or not.

''Explain yourself. I would have thought that a commodore was safer, more powerful.'' Vicky paused for a moment. ''As an ensign I sure don't feel any power. Or very safe.''

Kris eyed Krätz. He shook his head. ''I can offer only advice. You have walked in her shoes and survived. You can speak to her from experience.''

Now Kris put her own napkin down and pushed back from the table. Beside her Jack did the same. Around them, the security people turned their chairs to face out, giving them as much privacy as their station and the risk factor allowed.

''A commodore does seem to have a lot of power … if he or she knows how to use it. Captain, did Hank know how to use the power of a commodore?''

The captain shook his head. ''Sadly no. He played with the power, but he neither understood it nor knew how to wield it.''

''That was my observation, too,'' Kris said. ''Captain, how long have you been preparing to command a cruiser?''

''Ensign to command captain, twenty years,'' Krätz said, ''including two years commanding a destroyer, Your Highness.''

''How long had Hank worn the uniform?''

''Four months when he died.''

''That, Vicky, is what killed your brother. Power he didn't know how to use. You're an ensign. Do you have any power?''

''Painfully little.''

''Are you able to use it properly?''

Now Vicky turned to face her commanding officer. ''I am learning to be a very good assistant communication officer.''

''You are,'' he agreed.

Vicky turned back to Kris. ''Are you saying that it's better to do a job you know how to do than fake doing a job you can't handle?''

''I think so.''

''I paid good money to get a copy of your file. It sure doesn't look like you practice what you preach.''

Beside Kris, Jack snorted. ''Amen to that.''

''Whose side are you on?'' Kris asked, elbowing Jack.

''The side of me staying alive,'' he said.

Kris got serious. ''You bought my file. You read it. Did an analyst explain it to you?''

''I just got the file.''

''Captain, you might walk her through it. You can explain to her where I was just bleeding lucky and where maybe I had a little help from my friends.''

''Would you, sir?'' Vicky asked, sounding like a boot ensign talking to her superior officer for the first time that evening.

''My orders are to educate you. To help you stay alive and learn. I think that could be considered part of my job. Though I warn you, your father probably would not consider Kris Longknife a proper role model for his daughter.''

''I don't think any father would consider me a good role model,'' Kris said dryly.

''Certainly not for any of my daughters,'' Captain Krätz agreed. ''But I remind you, Ensign Peterwald, anyone without dumb Longknife luck would have died a dozen times doing what is recorded in that file. And no, none would have occurred while you were paying the piper.''

Vicky looked very thoughtful as they finished their dinner.

Done, Captain Krätz stood. But before he turned to leave, he gave Kris an informal bow. ''I believe your file says that your first skipper was a Captain Thorpe?''

''Yes,'' Kris said, avoiding adding anything more.

''He is no longer serving in the Wardhaven Navy.''

''I believe not,'' Kris said, trying not to sound evasive.

''I ran into him recently. He has hired on with a merchant shipping line that is providing irregular service to ports out beyond the Rim. Are you aware of these illegal colonies?''

''I've visited a few. Never ran into Captain Thorpe.''

''I understand such shipping lines are the main prey of the pirates. I hope nothing happens to your former captain.''

''So do I,'' Kris said, not sure exactly what she was being told or how she felt about it.

Outside the restaurant, Jack leaned close to Kris's ear. ''How much you want to bet me you are going to regret helping that young woman stay alive?''

That was a bet Kris was not willing to take.