''My girls are all killers. I wouldn't hire them if they weren't. They'd rather slit your throat than put up with your smirk.''
''But they're not facing me with a knife or pistol. They're in my space, under my lasers. This is Lieutenant JG Kris Longknife, United Sentients Navy. Cease your harassing fire, break off your pursuit, and you will live. Keep this up, and I will kill you.''
''Fire! Damn you, fire!'' Sandfire shouted. Someone offscreen yelled, ''We're not recharged; just a second, now!'' Someone finally remembered to cut off the transmission.
The cruiser fired, but Tom had the Barbarossa in a whole new set of slides, jinks, and twists. All missed.
Kris eyed her own board. ''Nelly, fire six one-tenth or one-twelfth power pulses. Tight salvo pattern.''
''Firing six pulses, one-twelfth power,'' Nelly said.
Two lasers stuttered and reached out with six beams of destruction. Two were near misses. One hit.
The cruiser slipped away from the hit, spinning and shedding metal. It shed other things, larger, that took off under power. ''Long boat and several escape pods scattering from the cruiser. Apparently not everyone wants to die with Cal,'' Penny reported.
''They'd have to be crazy to,'' Hank snapped, head shaking. ''I don't understand this.''
''Pay attention and learn,'' Kris said. ''Penny, raise me Sandfire.''
''He's not responding.''
''Try again. Tell him his rats are fleeing the ship.''
''None of my loyal people would ever leave me.'' Sandfire was back, filling the screen. His face was red enough to match some of this evening's explosions. The vein on the right side of his forehead now was matched by one on his left. Kris would not want his blood pressure.
''You want to see what my sensors showed a minute ago? Long boat and survival pods dropping off your boat like petals off a dead daisy.''
''My God, she's a poet, too,'' Tom said in feigned shock.
''And you think I'd believe a Longknife.''
''You must admit I've been a bit busy staying alive to doctor media.''
''Longknife, you've been causing us trouble since you were a kid and dodged our kidnappers. You should have died on that minefield months ago. Instead, you wrecked what we'd arranged with that ass of a Commodore at Paris. This time I have you in my sights, and I'll kill you myself. Fire, damn you, fire.''
The ship slid and dodged under Kris. It didn't match the wild ride her own stomach was taking.
Who was the ''us'' Sandfire included in his plots? To kill a kid! Eddy? She was damn proud she'd saved her Marine platoon from landing in a minefield. She was even prouder to have messed up Commodore Sampson's taking AttackRon Six out of the Wardhaven battle line to spark a war between Earth and Wardhaven. For all those and what Sandfire had done to Tom and Penny and was trying to do to the people of Turantic, he deserved to die.
Now he put poor dead Eddy at the head of his list.
There had to be a way to kill Sandfire as many times as he deserved.
Kris swallowed hard on rage and commands that vented hate to no good end. There could be no room in her heart, in her head, in her gut for anything so human as anger, as vengeance. Emotions took up space, took up blood flow, took up brainpower.
Cold as space, Kris studied the man on the screen even as she widened her vision to take in her board, reactor temperature, mass available, laser temperature, and power reserve.
Someone was going to die very, very soon. That someone would be Sandfire.
''Missed again,'' she said, molding her lips into the cold, unfeeling grin that showed teeth but no cheer. ''That the best you can do, Cal? Get close, but never touch me. You kidnap a kid and make me a hero. You plan a war, and I end up a Princess. Your hate for us Longknifes only makes us richer, more powerful, more admired. It must really eat your guts out,'' she said, watching flaming passion rise up and consume him.
He was screaming now, demanding the cruiser fire as he struggled against his restraints, hands out, fingers reaching like claws as he tried to climb through the screen, get his hands around Kris's neck.
Offscreen, Kris heard someone report the lasers were just coming up on a full charge. Again Tom put the Barbarossa into a wild dance as lasers reached out for them, missed them yet again.
Sandfire roared his grief.
Kris ignored him as she took in her weapons status. Sandfire had wasted two broadsides while she cooled her lasers, charged their capacitors. NELLY, FIRE SIX BURSTS AT ONE-TWELFTH POWER. IF ONE HITS, FOLLOW IT UP WITH TWO BURSTS, ONE-QUARTER POWER.
YES, MA'AM. On Kris's board, below the screen with Sandfire's twisted visage, six beams reached out. Two connected, staggering the cruiser. Before Kris could form the word fire, two more shots followed, pinning the cruiser, cutting it through. Sandfire's face vanished as the screen above Kris went blank.
For a moment, the attacking cruiser hung there against the black of space. Then the screen dimmed as the ship turned itself into a momentary star. The screen flashed back to normal, revealing an expanding cloud of gas that, even as they looked, vanished as if it had never been there.
Sandfire was gone. Only the evil of his passage remained.
''He's dead,'' Jack said slowly. ''But so is Eddy.''
''You can dispose of evil,'' Abby added, ''but you never can reclaim what it has done.''
Kris studied her threat board. There was nothing on it. ''Tom, set a course for the main jump point. It's time we head back to Wardhaven.''
''You want to know what's happening on Turantic?'' Penny asked.
''That is Turantic's business. Not mine,'' Kris said. She knew something in her gut was growing hot. Like the ship, she was going to explode… but not yet. ''If anyone needs me, I'll be in my cabin.''
''Take mine,'' Hank offered. ''Level five, right-hand.''
''You'll need it,'' Kris said, unstrapping herself.
''Not like you need it,'' Hank said. ''It's got a full relaxing tub.''
''I can draw you a bath,'' Abby said, rising from her seat.
''No. I want to be alone.''
''As you wish.'' Abby dropped back into her seat.
''I'll hold the ship at one g,'' Tom said. ''If I have to change it, I'll let you know with plenty of warning.''
Kris made it to the elevator, teeth locked against the emotions washing through her. She punched 5 rather than attempt to get a word past the constriction in her throat. The door opened on a pleasant, wood paneled hall, new enough to still smell of sawdust and varnish. A door on the right gaped open.
The room was large, taking up half of the ship's hull at this level. The bed was big enough for five. Kris fled to it, threw herself on it, and let the hell inside her rip loose.
Long hours later, Kris slipped into a chair in the dining area of the Barbarossa. She'd voided all the emotions she could for one morning. Now she needed something to fill the emptiness inside. ''What's to eat?'' she said, voice hoarse.
''I am rather amazing with a skillet and eggs,'' Abby said, poking her head out of the small galley.
''Scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast would be nice,'' Kris said.
''Toast coming up,'' she heard Tom announce from the galley. ''Milk, orange juice, or apple juice?''
''Yes,'' Kris answered feeling dehydrated. She'd scrubbed her face; she would not go public with red, puffy eyes.
''Who's got the bridge watch?'' she said, glancing around the empty dining room.
''Penny has it,'' Tom said, setting three glasses down on the table. ''Hank's showing her what he knows about this boat. Jack's keeping an eye on him. I don't think he trusts the boy.''
Kris drained the glass of apple juice. ''He never has.''
''Hey, Kris, you in the galley?'' Penny said from the speaker.
''Seems so,'' Kris said.
''I have some message traffic for you. You know Abu Kartum, that cabby who helped us one night?''
''And a few other times,'' Kris added under her breath.