An elongated blob appeared on the screen.
“Do you have any better optics?” Kris asked.
“We are working on bringing the best we have online,” Professor Labao said. “Maybe in an hour.”
Fifty-five minutes later, the planet jumped into finer focus as the new scope checked it out. Five minutes later, they got a much better view of the mystery.
“That’s a starship, but what kind?” Kris asked.
“It looks like one of our old battlecruisers,” Nelly said. “Iteeche War period and stripped of all its ice.” Two pictures appeared on screen. One ship was nice and curved, clad in its full ice armor. The other one, fresh out of the yards, looked rather naked. The mystery ship and the naked one looked remarkably similar.
“I’ve reacquired the beeper,” Chief Beni reported. “I got something this time. Let me double-check. Nope, it won’t answer me again.”
“What did it say?” Captain Drago demanded.
“Let me check historical logs, sir. This code ain’t in today’s book.”
Every eye on the bridge turned to the old chief.
“If this old log is right, we’re looking at the Society of Humanity Battlecruiser Furious, sir.”
“Furious?” Kris said, stumbling from her station. Her great-grandmother Rita Nuu Longknife had commanded the Furious in a wild fight that saved half of her husband Ray’s battle line. The Furious had vanished into a jump accelerating and spinning like no ship back eighty years ago could hope to survive.
“Unknown ships on approach vector to Alwa, identify yourself,” came as a surprise, both because it wasn’t expected . . . and because it was in Standard.
The main screen flickered several times, then settled down to show a woman who might be Kris . . . if she lived to be a hundred.
“Princess, this one is yours,” Captain Drago whispered.
Kris stood. “I am Princess Kristine Longknife, commanding the United Society explorer ship Wasp.” Kris paused, hunting for words, then hastily added. “We come in peace. Who do I have the honor of addressing?”
The message went out. It would take at least ten minutes to get there and just as long to get back. Kris stayed standing, staring at the screen.
The woman was doing the same. The mike was turned down, but Kris could hear her saying something to people offscreen. Kris herself turned to those around her, but she had nothing to say.
Then a child of two raced into view, threw its hands up at the woman, and was lifted up for a hug. A younger woman, likely the mother, galloped on-screen in hot pursuit of the toddling escapee, but the older woman would not surrender the vagrant.
Kris’s message must have gotten there at that moment. The older woman eyed the screen. “Princess Longknife, you say. Does that mean Ray somehow got himself a crown?” The woman frowned. “Did my little Alex grow up and have kids? That squirt is about the only thing I missed from the back and gone. If you’re a Longknife, you’re likely related to me. I’m Rita Nuu Ponsa, once a Longknife and a ship captain. Come on down here. There’s a passel of family for you to meet.”
Kris collapsed into her chair at Weapons.
Captain Drago ordered the helm to maintain course and one-gee deceleration. Jack came to stand beside Kris, working the tight muscles of her neck and upper back.
“Let’s hope this family reunion goes better than the last one you tried,” he said.
About the Author
Mike Shepherd grew up Navy. It taught him early about change and the chain of command. He’s worked as a bartender and cabdriver, personnel advisor and labor negotiator. Now retired from building databases about the endangered critters of the Northwest, he’s looking forward to some fun reading and writing.
Mike lives in Vancouver, Washington, with his wife, Ellen, and close to his daughter and grandchildren. He enjoys reading, writing, dreaming, watching grandchildren for story ideas, and upgrading his computer—all are never-ending pursuits.
He’s hard at work on Kris’s next story: Kris Longknife: Defender, as well as several other books set in Kris’s universe.
You can learn more about Mike and all his books at his website www.mikeshepherd.org, e-mail him at Mike_Shepherd@comcast.net, or follow Kris Longknife on Facebook.