Gunny still stood against the bulkhead. He'd watched his commander with widening eyes. Slowly, his M-6 came down. Kris found herself facing into a loaded weapon…again. Well, Emma, my Highlander friend, I guess this is where tradition brings a Longknife.
''Is that what you want to be, Gunny?'' she said, strength rising from her gut with each word. Was this what got Grampa Ray through the Presidential Guard? Was this what took Trouble and the Ladies from Hell up Black Mountain? She pointed at the captain. ''That man says you've been the bootlicking dog of the rich and lazy. You ready now to be the bootlicking dog of the power mad and crazy? Because that's where you're headed.
''You may not like my father's politics, but people like you elected him. You figure the captain here and his friends can do a better job? Remember that minefield that somehow didn't get spotted before the jump? You'd think a guy so hot to trot to set the record for fastest rescue mission would notice a thing like mines. What else will he miss? Is this what you want?'' She moved her gaze from the inactive Gunny to those around her.
''You want to follow the orders of whoever happens to be the biggest, meanest bastard around? Is that what you want for your kids and grandkids? Space ripped apart by whatever warlord can patch together enough power in the rubble? Because there's no question, men drunk on power who can't even run a good drop mission aren't going to know a thing about running a planet. Who gave the orders we're following? Communications. You have to be in on this. Who's calling the shots?''
The lieutenant at communications turned as red as one of his readouts. He nodded to the CO. ''Sir?''
''None of your damn business, Longknife. People like you have been calling the shots for so long you can't believe that others know what our worlds need better than you. You've kept us under your thumbs, paid us pennies for risking our lives while you make trillions in your sleep. This is where your time ends. Gunny, shoot that mad bitch.''
''Ma'am, I'm sorry,'' Gunny said, leveling his weapon.
''Gunny, don't move your finger,'' Corporal Li cut in, his weapon level. ''You so much as twitch, Sarge, and I'll stitch you to that wall.''
The Exec was out of his seat. As he turned on the marines, a pistol appeared in his hand. Tech Hanson was already bringing his rifle up. ''Put it down, sir, or so help me, you'll be dead before you can bring it to bear.'' The XO froze in midswing.
''Drop the weapon, sir,'' Corporal Li said. ''I mean that, XO, and you, too, Gunny.''
''You'll hang for this,'' the captain screamed.
''I'm not sure we wouldn't hang if we didn't, sir. Ma'am, I'm just a grunt, but I'd really like to know if I'm on the right side. I figure, if we've screwed up, we might be able to just put our guns down and let them do this attack thing and maybe it would turn out okay for us.''
''Comm, open standard Wardhaven frequencies,'' Kris ordered.
The captain shook his head.
''Fuck you,'' the comm lieutenant said.
''Nelly, slave comm to Tom's station. Then hack it. Fast.''
''Slaved, ma'am. Hacking in progress.''
''Tom?'' she asked, knowing once more she was assuming he'd follow her, demanding he follow her, give her the proof that would prove to the crew that they could follow her. Would he back her once more?
His hands were already flying across his board. ''I'm working on it,'' he snapped. ''Damn, the Hurricane's putting out the jamming.'' He glanced around at the bridge crew. ''Somebody sure doesn't want us getting anyone else's viewpoint.''
''Push it,'' Kris ordered. ''Narrow your beam. Limit search to the emergency command net. Tight beam it at the planet nearest jump point Delta,'' Kris guessed. She had to find the Wardhaven flag. If the Earth battle fleet hadn't moved away from its jump, she bet Wardhaven's was still somewhere around its.
Five seconds later, Tom shook his head. ''We need more energy. I can't burn through the jamming.''
''Drain the capacitor.'' She sure as blazes didn't want to use that juice on a fifth Earth ship. Tom tapped his board. Kris almost forgot how to breathe as his readouts went deep into the red. These people needed proof; she had to provide it.
''Thirty-five thousand klicks,'' Addison announced to whomever it mattered.
Then Tom got that lopsided grin again. ''Done. I'm getting something.''
''…hell do you think you're doing. AttackRon Six, answer me, Goddamn it. What in God's mercy are you doing?''
''That's my Grampa Trouble,'' Kris breathed. ''Last seen, he was working with the prime minister to find a peaceful way out of this crisis. Anyone still think we're supposed to be doing what we're doing?'' Kris said, turning to face each of the bridge crew. Faces went from pale to determined as she searched them. In the background, Grampa Trouble tried, rather emphatically and in language she'd never heard him use, to raise the commander of Attack Squadron Six.
''Shall I send to him?'' Tommy asked.
''No.'' Kris swallowed. ''They're hell and gone across the system. If this attack is going to be stopped, we've got to do it ourselves. And it has to be a surprise.''
''You can't do this,'' the captain screamed. ''Don't you see you're blowing our last chance? You're giving rich bitches like her the galaxy. You're gonna let them keep running you around. They've had us by the balls, now they want our balls.''
But no one was listening to Thorpe. Eyes were concentrated on screens, fingers tapped battle boards, the bridge crew was with Kris. ''Gunny, you with us now?'' she asked.
''Yes, ma'am. I got a grandkid coming. Be a hell of a world to give ‘em.''
''Gunny, Corporal, get these men off the bridge. We've got a battle to fight. And maybe one to stop.''
''Yes ma'am. You heard the woman,'' Corporal Li ordered.
''When you first came on board,'' Thorpe spat, ''I thought you had the makings of a fighter. Now I see you're just as full of chicken shit as the others.''
''Sir,'' Gunny growled. ''You either shut up and start moving, or, I swear to God, I'll shut you up,'' he raised his rifle butt, ''and have the XO and Comm here carry you out.''
Kris let Gunny handle Thorpe; she had other problems. ''Addison, you all right with this?'' she asked as the skipper finally fell silent and sullenly was led from the bridge.
''I guess so, ma'am. This isn't exactly the Navy my dad talked about.''
''Or mine,'' Kris agreed. On her battle board the corvettes were spreading out. Still, the Chinook was a bare three hundred klicks from the Typhoon. ''Okay, folks. Here's what we're going to do. The squadron needs a wake-up call that lets them know they've got big problems. Addison, prepare for evasive maneuvers on my orders.''
''Yes ma'am,'' the helmsman said through a hard swallow. Kris settled into her seat, wrapped her hands around her controls, and aimed a twenty-four-inch pulse laser at the stem of the Chinook. She'd worked defensive on the Typhoon long enough to know its most vulnerable spot. Hit a Fast Attack right aft of the engineering control stations, and you sliced right through the reactor. There'd be one big explosion and one hell of a wild ride, but the crew would live to write home about it.
Kris took two deep breaths, waited for her hands to get rock solid on the controls, then set the crosshairs of her targeting computer carefully on the Chinook. A glance at her four ranging systems—radar, laser, gravitational, and optical—showed four different ranges. She dialed in a good compromise, reduced her twenty-four-inch laser's power setting to half strength, and squeezed.