Resolute

Chapter 10

''We have unknown nano-scouts loose on our station,'' Beni reported fifteen seconds after Hank's flag opened its hatch.

''No surprise there,'' Kris sighed, and prepared to see that her station stayed her station.

''Our nanos are trailing them and will report on what they are interested in,'' Beni added.

While nanos did their tiny thing, locals that were somewhat larger, but still tiny in most perspectives, did their thing. Kris and Steve watched as each of the docking details came face-to-face with a mob of short people, doing cute to perfection while dancing their own particular version of ancient Earth folk dances. To Kris, it looked like the shortest, say four- to six-year-olds, were doing about the same thing. But they were backed up by ten- to twelve-year-olds doing a better job of telling the polka from the Highland fling.

And the adult supervisors made it clear to the grizzled chiefs of the docking details that those cute kids holding baskets almost as big as they were intended to give them up only to the captain of the ship.

Kris's Command Center struggled only moderately successfully to keep from rolling on the floor, laughing, as chiefs made hurried calls to their superiors and officers arrived, many still putting on formal dress, to receive this bit of local largess.

''Don't those dolts have any experience with a formal port visit?'' Beni asked no one in particular. ''Commander Santiago briefed us on what to expect on Hikila. We were all looking forward to topless babes in grass skirts. In zero g.''

''What happened?'' Kris asked, remembering nothing like that.

''You went dirtside and we got no show at all. No shore leave, either.''

''No shore leave?''

''Yeah,'' Beni sighed. ''She kept us locked and cocked for a rescue mission. I heard her tell you that you were on your own, but she was lying through her Navy-issued teeth. If you had so much as whispered for help, she would have had the Marines and half the crew of the Halsey down there in no time at all.''

Which was interesting information for Kris, but only of historical value.

She kept her eyes on several rows of monitors, following the proceedings at all six ship's landing areas. On the Incredible's monitor, four men in civilian clothes slipped across the brow and dodged past the greeting party.

''Mark those four,'' Kris ordered. ''Keep your eyes peeled for similar teams,'' she ordered Jack, Beni and Penny at her side. Steve was talking into a headset. At the top of the escalators from Pier 1, two youths in the uniform of Last Chance Safety and Security joined the four. The uniform wasn't much, just jeans and flannel shirts, but the smiles from the young man and woman were uniformly wide.

Kris took a step back to evaluate the whole situation. ''They're from Hank's flagship. Doesn't look like there are any other groups trying to make a breakout.''

Heads nodded agreement, but eyes stayed on the screens. Now two more came active as the four made their way along Deck 1, not in any straight path, but meandering between different landing areas, eyeing the globes that held the auto guns. Frowning now and then and whispering to themselves or their commlink.

''Commlink,'' Beni said. ''I'm tracking communications but I can't crack the code. Kris, can Nelly take a look at it?''

''Nelly, have at it.''

''This should be fun,'' her computer said.

''Here comes a second team of walkers,'' Penny said.

''Different ship?'' Kris asked.

''No, flag. I think Hank's holding it close to his chest.''

''Let's see where these go,'' Steve said, and whispered into his link. Two kids waited for them as they topped the escalator.

''This is rather easy,'' Jack said.

''Well this code is not,'' Nelly reported. ''It is totally revised from what we saw on Turantic and the six battleships at Wardhaven. I'm going to need a lot more transmissions before I can crack it.''

''Monitor it, Nelly, and have fun.''

Jack was still giving his monitors an unhappy frown. ''If I was in charge here, I'd try something outside the station.''

''We're looking for that,'' Steve said. ''All the 6-inch batteries at the tip of the docks have cameras.'' So saying, he switched several monitors over to show the outside of the ships. ''No activity.''

''One of their nanos just tried to burn one of ours,'' Penny said. All sixty kilos of Kris's Smart Metal were nano-scouts.

''Wonder how many scouts Hank has,'' Kris said. ''Penny, scout weapons release. Let's see who has the last one flying.''

The battle was short and one-sided. Hank had not brought nearly enough scouts, or they weren't as heavily armed as Kris's. Since nanos offered no quarters to each other, there were no prisoners taken, none to interrogate or examine. Well, not many.

''We've identified the wreckage of several nanos, not fully burned,'' Jack reported shortly after Penny reported the fire-fight over. ''I'm marking them for retrieval. If they're Smart Metal, we can examine what makes them tick, not tick.''

''Ouch,'' Kris said, the realization dawning on her that the ability to program your own metal might offer your enemy the option to reprogram it at the worst of all possible times. ''Jack, I do not like your line of thinking.''

''I like you, too, Princess,'' he said without looking up.

''That second foursome is making straight for the amidships service area,'' Steve reported. ''And I think they know where our elevator is.'' Four men in bulky coats piled into the elevator that a month ago first brought Kris to this Command Center.

Steve eyed his board. ''They punched for two. Anyone want to bet they want 1A?''

''No bet,'' Kris said, her eyes roving all the boards.

As programmed, the elevator took them straight to three and opened. ''Can I help you?'' came a cheerful voice from the desk just outside the welded-closed door of the Command Center.

The four seemed surprised by where they were, but they were good, recovered fast, and stepped forward into the closed-off foyer. Two of them leaned over the desk of a young woman intentionally chosen for her busty blond appearance… that covered an honors degree in psychology and counseling. Two men tried in several different ways to ask directions to different places on the station, cutting her off when she made to answer, and in general did their best to dominate her attention and confuse the situation. The other two tested the doors, found them locked, and began to pick them with both electronic and physical tools. The one working hard on the solidly welded Command Center door did not bother Kris.

The other door could be a problem.

''Jack, you're with me,'' Kris said. Jack, in dress blues, pistol, and sword, was right behind Kris as she quick-timed for the left exit from the center. Outside, she turned two corners and brought herself to a halt before a door, caught her breath and waited only to the count of two before the door opened.

The crewcut and hard muscles of the young man in front of Kris shouted Special Forces. He looked up from where he'd been jiggling the door handle, saw Kris in undress whites scowling down at him, took in Jack with his hand resting on his pistol… and had the good sense to close the door.

Kris opened the door, stepped through it, and gave Jack the second he needed to follow her. He shouted ''Atten'hut on Deck'' and the rest of the proceedings came to a roaring halt as all four of the Greenfeld men braced at attention.

Why was that not a surprise.

''Gentlemen,'' Kris said crisply. ''As I am sure you have heard from the receptionist, you are in a restricted area. You will remove yourselves immediately. You have received the only warning you will get. Your pictures and basic biometrics have been recorded. If you violate these precincts again, you will be restricted to your ships for the remainder of this port of call. Do you understand me?''

''Yes, sir,'' rocketed back at Kris.

''The elevator would be a good exit, don't you think?''

The four piled in the elevator and the door quickly closed.

Jack stood there shaking his head. ''Too easy.''

''I agree,'' Kris said. ''They were a throwaway gambit.''

''So where's the main thrust?''

''Yet to come,'' Kris said, and turned to the receptionist. ''You okay?''

''I'm fine, but this is not working. They blew through our locks like they were hardly there.''

''So I noticed,'' Kris said.

''Oh, and this eye-candy gambit,'' the gal said, looking down at where her first two buttons were undone. ''I might as well have been in a nun's habit,'' she said, redoing her buttons.

''I'll tell Commander Steve of your observations,'' Kris said.

''Better you than me,'' she said, and went back to her work.

In her Command Center a minute later, Kris found Steve on the commlink to the Patton. ''We need all the machinists and mechanics you can loan us. We've got to install physical bar locks on every critical door. And we'll need your kids to stand behind them and only open them when they're told to. Yes, I know that's going to be boring, but these folks brought pick locks that go through our security like it's not there. Yep, just ask Marilyn. She's the one that couldn't keep four guys at her desk for two minutes. Yes. Marilyn. You talk to her but get me those mechanics to install the bar locks and people to unlock them.''

''Sounds like your crew don't always do what you want them to do even when you're the one telling them,'' Kris said.

''Yeah, that was part of what I was keeping a secret. Around here, you give an order and wait to see what the vote is.''

''Can you bar lock the doors?''

''I've already messaged a lockout to all the networked locks. Every door on this tub is deaf, dumb, and making rude noises at anyone trying to get it to open. I can make a specific exception from here, but…''

''Talk about micromanaging,'' Penny grumbled through a smile.

''Talk about losing control of the situation,'' Kris said. ''How are our four doing on their walkabout? Any more come out?''

''It looks like a new four are leaving the flag, probably to replace the four you just spanked. I'm watching them closely,'' Penny said. ''The first four just seem to be walking from pier to pier looking the place over and going on.''

''Just the six their ships are using?'' Kris asked.

''No, all eighteen. At this point, they've gone past the amidships shops and are now at Pier 51.''

''Probably looking for one that doesn't have as many auto guns,'' Jack said. ''Maybe park a landing craft full of Marines outside that pier and charge up an unguarded landing area.''

''They all have their allotted four guns,'' Steve said.

''So they will report,'' Kris said. ''Any more nanos out?''

''Nothing new reported,'' Penny said.

''Keep the nanos spread out wide. They could use the shuttle bay to send some in or some other odd place. Expect anything.''

What Kris didn't expect was a call from Hank.

''Hi, lover girl,'' he said for an opener as his perfect face came up on-screen.

''Hi, Hank, all services coming through fine to your ships?'' Kris said, staying business.

''Could use a bit more electricity, but I understand your reactor just came on-line a few minutes before we docked. If you want, I can keep an extra trickle up on our reactors, lower our demand on you. Of course, we'd want a discount on our bill if we did,'' he said with a salesman's grin.

Kris glanced at Steve's board, the reactor was at 100 percent. She refused the urge to cut her visual; that would make her station look less than 4.0. She schooled her face and voice to friendly, something the Prime Minister's Darling Daughter had learned early, and said, ''Thank you, Hank, but I think I've got that problem solved. The Chance Service District has let me know that they won't be allowing any discounts this month.''

Hank's mouth moved several times as she spoke, but she managed to keep the words flowing so syrupy smooth that he failed to break in. When she finished, he seemed to boil for a moment before snapping. ''It's Commodore, Lieutenant. Commodore,'' he repeated, waving the sleeve of his blue uniform at her.

''Fine, Hank, fine,'' Kris said. ''Commodore. Is there a reason you called me? I'm rather busy just this moment. We seemed to have a sudden infestation of nanos. Oh, and some of your crew were wandering around and didn't read the signs about which parts of the station are public and which are secure. Do I need to resend the standard instructions on that, Hank?''

''Commodore.''

''Right, Commodore.''

''No, no need. Everything is fine.''

Which did not tell Kris anything about the state of his nanos. But then, that was not something she planned to ask.

''If everything is fine, I'll talk to you later,'' Kris said, and made to hang up.

''Don't hang up, Kris. I called to tell you that the locals are putting on a bash of some sort for me and my crew. But then you might have heard about it.''

''I'd heard they were planning something to entertain your crewmen,'' Kris lied with a straight face.

''They also have arranged a ball in my honor. I'm told it will be the height of the social season.'' Kris made nice noises.

''Anyway, I wondered if you'd like to ride down in my barge. Bring your whole command with you.''

''Why Hank, I'd be glad to.''

''Commodore,'' he corrected.

''You can't call the Commander of Naval District 41 ‘Kris' and expect her not to be on a first-name basis with you, Hank. But, yes, I'm glad to accept the invitation for the ride. When should I be there?''

Hank said eight o'clock, which took him out of the game of who was what rank, and Kris rang off before he could get back to it.

''That boy is a twit,'' Penny said.

''Over his head,'' Steve agreed.

''Neither of which makes him any less dangerous,'' Jack muttered. ''Why are you riding in his scow?''

''It saves me having to steal it this time,'' Kris said, her face now struggling to stay as straight for her team as she had kept it for Hank. The entire room, Jack excepted, broke up.

''I'm glad the rest of you are enjoying this, but I repeat, why are you offering yourself for a ride in the barge of a guy who would just love to lock you up and throw away the key?''

''Because he wants to and he can't,'' Kris said. ''Face it, Jack, neither he nor I can do something that actually harms the other. A lot of people may die before this whatever-he-thinks-he's-doing is over, but the last thing I want is to harm him. And the last thing he can do is kill me.''

''I seem to recall several attempts to capture you and serve you up naked for a long and deadly torture session for Hank's-old man,'' Jack reminded Kris.

Kris shivered at the memory. ''Yes, I can't seem to forget them either, but those were all done below board, by other folks that would give Henry Smythe-Peterwald the Twelfth all kinds of deniability about his fun. Sending a squadron on an official port call with his own son and heir commanding is totally up front. And everything about it has to be played that way. No, Jack, the safest place for me tonight is in Hank's barge. Trust me, any shuttle that doesn't have him and does have me is in extreme danger of developing a bad case of the sudden blowups.''

As Penny listened, Kris could almost see the Intelligence Officer's brain spinning through all the options. ''I think she's right, Jack. So, Kris, are you actually going to ride down on the barge or develop a last minute case of being elsewhere?''

''I probably will go along for the trip down. Steve, I may need a ride home, in case my official ride runs out of gas, turns into a pumpkin, you know how that can happen to a girl.''

''I have a daughter,'' he growled. ''I'll want to make those arrangements in person. No telling what the nanos planted on our comm lines before we scorched them.''

''You do that. Oh, and Steve,'' she said as he headed for the door. ''In my early wanderings around the station, I noticed that I command a rather full armory. Jack and I field stripped a couple of weapons and found them in good shape. Would you mind having some of your contractors do a full maintenance workup on everything in the armory?''

''Did it the first day I was back up here, Princess. I may not have been sure I trusted you with those guns, but I sure didn't want to need them and find out they aren't good to go.''

''Thank you, Commander,'' Kris said.

''Glad to be working with you, Commander. Or should I say ‘Princess'?''

''I answer to either one,'' Kris said. ''Oh, speaking of answering, Nelly, get me Abby on the line.''

''You finally remembered me, Your Absentmindedness,'' Kris's official maid said a second later.

''But you were never far from my thoughts,'' Kris said, glancing at Penny. ''It seems that I will be going to a dinner and dance tonight. A simple thing, don't want to outshine all the other girls there. Since we're dancing it might be just as nice if I was in that red gown that swirls so nicely.''

''You mean the simple red one that goes well with blue accessories,'' Abby said, seeming to catch on immediately that network communications might not be as secure as they once were.

''Yes. Just the simple stuff.''

''And how much time will you give me to do your hair?''

''Not nearly enough,'' Kris assured her. ''But I'll try to break away from here before too long.''

''I'll be waiting for you.''

Kris rang off, waited until Nelly assured her that all comm lines were now off, and then shrugged. ''Just how much time I have will depend on how Hank reacts to that.''

Whatever Hank had in mind, it didn't become apparent for a while. Into the quiet, Penny asked, ''What is the uniform of the evening? You may have Abby to get you ready, but I need to think about what I can throw together.''

''Dress whites for you, Penny,'' Kris answered quickly and easily. ''Jack, what you're wearing, sidearms included.''

''And you?'' Penny asked.

''Not a uniform,'' Kris said defiantly. ''Since Hank has promoted himself to commodore, I'll trump him with princess. Tiara, Order of the Wounded Lion and all.''

''That boy's pride won't take kindly to that,'' Penny said, smiling at her board.

''Disappointment is something he's going to have to learn to live with,'' Kris said. ''And if you ask me, he hasn't had nearly enough of it in his life.''

''Oh-oh,'' Penny said. ''I think I see where his next disappointment is coming from. Either his or yours.''

''I don't need any more disappointment,'' Kris said, eyeing Penny's board. ''I've had all a growing girl can use.''

''The reactor,'' Jack breathed.

The new four had been meandering their way down station. Now they made a straight line for one of the two elevators among the aft shops. Kris mashed her commlink. ''Engineering, are you prepared to repel boarders?''

''What?'' came from the chief engineer, a grandmotherly woman who frowned at Kris, then glanced off screen, apparently at her security monitors, and then said a not very grandmotherly word.

One of Kris's monitors showed the foyer they had created to block off the passageways around the reactor. Similar to the one in front of the Command Center, this one had a six-foot plus, linebacker type standing in front of the elevator as it opened. He opened his arms wide and blocked the door. ''This is a secure area. Unauthorized people are not allowed,'' he calmly bellowed.

That should have settled the matter.

One of the men in the elevator started a long, high-pitched spiel that Kris didn't try to follow, while the other three ducked under the big fellow's arms and headed for the doors.

''Hey, you can't do that,'' the linebacker shouted, turning to chase after them, but it was like four mice being chased by a lone cat… and the cat had been briefed not to do anything lethal to the mice. The rodents took maximum benefit of that edge.

The strapping fellow would jiggle one doorknob to disrupt the lock picking effort, only to have to trot over the next door and mess up another lock pick. And the fourth fellow was in his face all the time, talking, and his feet were as likely as not to be where the big guy put his down. It was better than most comedy routines, but this was not funny. Once they broke into the reactor room, there was no telling what they'd do. Or Hank.

''I'm getting a report of Marines on the cruiser's quarterdecks,'' Penny said. A glance showed Kris that the kids were still on the landings doing their cute.

''Order the kids out of there. Don't let them get mixed up in this,'' Kris ordered.

''Doing it.''

''Engineering, you're about to be boarded,'' Kris repeated.

''Not on my watch, Commander,'' came right back at her. ''Tu, Sanchez, Ladonka, grab the biggest screwdrivers you got and a hammer and get your rear ends moving for the doors.''

''Screwdrivers? What're we doing with screwdrivers?''

''Didn't they teach you kids anything in school? Your heads are all full of book learning and you don't know anything practical,'' the grandmother type was muttering as Kris followed her fast walk from one screen to another. ''I bet I'm the only one here that can hot-wire a car if I need to.''

''Probably, Granny Good-Good,'' said Sanchez from well off screen.

Granny was at one of the doors into Engineering. ''You take one honking-big screwdriver and wedge it in the doorsill next to the end with the hinges, not the doorknob, you doorknob, and you hammer it in good and hard. Nobody's opening that door.

''Here's a doorstop if you want it.'' A wooden wedge flew across the room to bounce off the door. The younger woman taking all the guff from Granny grabbed it, set it in place at the bottom of the door, and Granny gave it a whack, too.

''Now, if a couple of you big lugs will do your usual lazy lean up against this door, it ain't opening for no one,'' she said, and headed back to her main station.

Kris checked all of her monitors. The situation seemed stabilized, but she didn't trust those four. Just what did they have in their bulky coats? Explosives? What would Hank decide to authorize if he got too frustrated? Kris hoped Hank had some kind of trainer with him. Daddy usually only turned Hank loose with someone who was supposed to teach him the ropes. Was this trainer an admiral? No, more likely some captain was stuck trying to explain to Commodore Hank why his latest bit of brilliance was not a good idea.

''Steve, we've got a problem,'' Kris said on net.

''I know. I've got a set of plumbers from the Patton trotting over there to add their two cents to the conversation.''

Kris cut the commlink. ''Plumbers?''

''Ever see the size of the wrenches those folks use?'' Jack said, a grin growing on his face. ''You get hit with one of those and you don't need to be hit twice.''

The comedy continued in the Reactor Foyer for a minute longer. One fellow actually managed to get his door unlocked, but found that the door would not budge for him. All four of them were congregated before that door, devoting their full effort to pushing on it while the linebacker did his best to push them sideways off the door. It was a sight to behold.

And the elevator door opened on six big guys. No, four big guys and two big gals, each with a very big wrench in their hands, stepped into the foyer.

''Hi, guys,'' a healthy farm girl, her blond hair in twin pony tails, her right hand lifting and dropping one honking big steel wrench into her left. ''You got a problem?''

Two of the Greenfeld types reached for things that were inside their coats. One of them made a grab for the linebacker who broke the hold and stepped back.

Kris mashed her commlink. ''This is Commander Longknife. Do we have a problem in the Reactor Foyer that I need to bring to the attention of Commodore Peterwald?''

''No.''

''Nothing.''

''No problems here'' came quickly from the four. Kris's six provided sideboy… or girl… courtesy to them on their way to the elevator, and punched button One.

''Do we want to let them off that easily?'' Nelly asked.

''We don't want to hurt anyone,'' Kris pointed out.

''But the elevators are all designed to go straight up and through to the other side of the station, Kris. People rarely do that because it subjects them to zero g and they have to reorient themselves because the ceiling becomes the floor. However…''

''What do we gain if we do that?'' Jack said.

''In weightlessness, on average, one out of three humans will become very ill,'' Nelly lectured.

''But those aren't average humans, Nelly,'' Jack said. ''They are Peterwald Special Forces. Surely they are space trained.''

''I have no data on that,'' Nelly answered primly.

''Would be interesting to run a verification test,'' Penny said. ''Seeing that we do have this opportunity.''

''Nelly, redirect their car up,'' Kris ordered.

''Doing it, Your Highness. This is fun.''

''Stall it dead center of the station.''

''Done.''

''Do we have a visual?''

It was one of the spare cameras, so the picture was poor. But there was no missing the dismay as they lost control of the elevator, the surprise as they lost gravity, and the disgust as first one, then a second, lost his breakfast. There were several attempts to set matters straight in the car that ended with the one Kris took for the leader growling, ''Are you done with us?''

''Tell your commander that we may not wait for you to get in our hair before we run the next bunch who get into an elevator up to see if all of you are space qualified,'' Kris said. ''You have a Longknife's word on that.''

''I figured as much.'' He ended the conversation.

''Should I run them up the rest of the way?'' Nelly asked.

''No,'' Kris said. ''Let's not encourage them to see more of the station than they have.'' Once out of the elevator, the four headed straight back to Hank's flag.

Kris ordered lunch for the Command Center. Tony Chang was running a special on pizza. Hank was kind enough to take lunch off, too, so they got all the way through clean-up before a new bunch of four crossed the brow of Hank's flag.

''Steve, you have anyone to walk those folks around?''

''I've got eight, drawn from the Last Chance Rifle and Marksmanship Club. And, I might add, trained and led by my old Chief Master at Arms. Watch this.''

The four came up the elevator and were met immediately by four folks wearing sidearms, and trailing them at a good twenty meters were four more each sporting M-6's. The older fellow in the first group exchanged words with the four; they turned around and rode the down escalator right back where they'd come from.

''How many have you got from Marksmanship Clubs?'' Kris asked.

''Enough,'' Steve answered cryptically.

Kris waited for an hour to see what Hank came up with next, but there was no next. She eyed the clock, calculated just how much time she was willing to give Abby to obsess over her hair, added in time for a fast walkaround to view the troops, and decided it was time to leave the duty watch to Jack.

''You've got the hot potato. Call me at the first sign of French fries.''

''I still think you ought to make a quick detour come twenty hundred hours and take our shuttle down. I don't trust Hank to know what's good for him.''

''You've got a very good point, my security czar,'' Kris said, doing her best to recognize the authority he could invoke to change her plan… without really giving in. ''However, there is more at play than just how I get where I'm going tonight. It's how Hank feels about it. If you don't agree tonight we've won one, Jack, I'll give you the next one, free of charge, no back talk.''

Jack eyed Kris. ''You've got something up your sleeve.''

''And considering that my dress tonight has no sleeves and very little else north of the border, it should be very clear to you rather quickly what I'm up to.''

''This I really want to see,'' Penny said.

''You just show up in dress whites with full medals. Oh, Jack, before you report to Hank's barge, put on your medals, too.''

''I think I smell intimidation,'' Penny said.

''I think I just lost my bet,'' Jack grumbled, but the tips of his scowl were curling up. No question, Kris's crew wanted to see Hank's pride holed solidly below the waterline.

Kris did her walkaround, smiling encouragement at those working for their defense and quickly ran into Steve doing his own bit of close oversight. They turned it into a twin tour. Doors were being locked down with steel bars that had to be thrown by a human being. The reactor's access doors got two bars. The crew was happy, joking about what they'd done to their visitors. Kris joined in their happy mood, adding only a reminder that this was just the first round. There would be more.

''Well, we surprised them, they surprised us,'' Kris said when she turned from Steve to deliver herself to what was bound to be an impatient and bad-tempered Abby. ''The game's still very much afoot, but I think we can claim to be ahead on points.''

''Points that can only too quickly be trumped by the other side,'' Steve said, without looking back.