Not easily.
Not cheaply.
Still, she’d been the one tossing monkey wrenches a time or three.
The commander seemed to follow where Kris’s thoughts were taking her. “Not everyone has a Longknife to help them thwart overwhelming Greenfeld power.”
“Let’s hope so,” Kris said. “Let me know when you think you have as much data as we’re likely to get from this reconnaissance.”
“I think we have,” the commander said.
Kris considered what that meant. They had all the available information on the target that held Cara. And there was no way Kris was comfortable about launching an attack based on the smattering of intelligence they had.
With a sigh, Kris ordered, “Captain, the next time our scout comes back, pack it in and let’s head back to St. Pete.”
Fifteen minutes later, the Wasp was accelerating at 1.5 gees.
NELLY, THERE’S SOMETHING I WANT YOU TO LOOK UP. I REMEMBER READING ABOUT IT WHEN I WAS A KID. I HAVEN’T RUN ACROSS IT SINCE. NOT THAT I’D REALLY WANT TO. Kris told her computer what to look for. It took Nelly several hours to find the reference. It was in the personal library of one of the boffins.
Kris listened to what Nelly had found and nodded. THAT WAS ABOUT WHAT I REMEMBERED. Kris tucked it away for the coming meeting with Admiral Krätz.
As the Wasp approached High St. Petersburg, there were a number of new merchant ships tied up together. When Captain Drago sent a low-order query at them, their responders were hardly civilian: Hornet, Dauntless, Fearless, Intrepid.
Here, for the first time, were all the ships of Kris’s Patrol Squadron 10, all except the Surprise, which was still probably lugging survival rations to Kaskatos, an unending and thankless task.
There was also one other ship, a small schooner not unlike two of the ships Kris had just identified tied up to the pirates’ station. Its transponder was very illegally off.
“Captain Drago, please send to PatRon 10. I will have a meeting of all COs, XOs, and senior Marine officers in the Wasp’s wardroom ten minutes after we dock. Send an information copy to Admiral Krätz with my regards and compliments. I will meet with him at his pleasure if he cannot make my staff meeting.”
Then she turned to Commander Fervenspiel. “I will understand if you wish to depart as soon as the gangway is down. I will have you provided with a copy of all the take we got from our probe.”
“I already have orders to stay. My admiral will be here shortly and receive the data take from your own hands, Your Highness.”
Kris raised an eyebrow at the honor.
The commander made a small bow. “If I am to have a grand duchess on my ship, I see no reason not to start practicing now.”
Commander Phil Taussig of the Hornet was first to board the Wasp after she tied up to her usual place between Admiral Krätz’s flagship the Fury and her sister ship the Terror.
No sooner had he rendered honors than he stood aside. “I was just passing Kaskatos when I got your ‘all come’ message. Knowing you Longknifes, I figured it translated as ‘Hey, Rube, I got a fight brewing,’ so I brought along your two old friends.”
Following along right behind Taussig’s XO and a Marine platoon lieutenant were Lieutenant Penny Lien Pasley and Colonel Cortez.
Kris had left them on Kaskatos, hoping they’d get themselves a life there and become so involved that they’d forget they’d ever been close to one of those damn Longknifes. Especially one who was hankering to go out and find what or who was making scout ships vanish.
“Like a bad penny, I’m back,” Penny said, not realizing how true that was.
Kris, for her part, found that she’d never been so glad to see two faces in her life.
“We got plenty of work for you,” Kris said, and passed them through to make room for Jack Campbell and the key members of his team. By the time all her command teams were aboard, the admiral was still nowhere in sight.
“Commander Fervenspiel, you want to wait here for your elephants?”
He failed to suppress his grin at Kris’s familiarity with his lofty superiors, so he covered it with a hand. “My orders are to listen to every word you say,” he said, with as pleasant a smile as such a declaration of so little trust allowed.
“Sergeant Bruce.”
“Ma’am,” the Marine said, snapping to attention.
“When Admiral Krätz and his team arrive, show them to the wardroom.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he answered, leaving Kris to lead the Greenfeld commander there herself.
And get the surprise of her life.
The room snapped to attention for her. Every last one of them, even Colonel Cortez, whose status as her prisoner of war and employee made his rendering of honors something special to her, if rather ambiguous.
“As you were.” Kris remembered it was now her duty to say that and watched as the room relaxed.
The tables had been arranged in one long table down the center. The left-hand side was vacant, awaiting the Greenfeld admiral. The right-hand side had the captains and command structure of her squadron. There were chairs along the wall for staff and others. Captain Drago, for now formally decked out in his official Merchant Marine captain’s uniform, had taken over the foot of the table for the officers of his contractor crew.
Someday, Kris would have to straighten out the chain of command on her ship. Someday, but not today. So far it had worked to the satisfaction of all involved . . . and some people very far up the chain of command who weren’t involved but kept their noses in her business.
Thank you very much, Grampa Ray, she thought.
“We have a problem,” was what she said.
“So what else is new,” came from somewhere down the table.
“That you, Phil Taussig?” Kris said. “Last time we served together, you were so uptight about the proper Navy way that I’d never expect something so not shipshape from you.”
“This is my second cruise with a Longknife. Maybe I’m less worried about getting struck by lightning.”
“We’ll see. Nelly, first slide,” Kris said, and turned to face a lovely picture of the pirate planet.
“So that’s what Dry Tortugas looks like,” Lieutenant Commander Jack Campbell said.
“Dry Tortugas?” Kris said.
“Yeah, that’s what the pirates are calling the place.”
“Excuse me,” Nelly put in, “but wasn’t it the Isle of Tortuga that was the pirate haunt back on old Earth in the Caribbean Sea during the 1600s.”
“I’d trust you more than I trusted the knuckleheaded pirates we captured,” Jack Campbell said, “but the crew of the Bucket of Blood and its computer agreed their home port was Dry Tortugas.”
“Bucket of Blood?” Kris once again found herself echoing.
“Somebody’s seen too many pirate vids,” Jack observed.
“Way too many,” Campbell agreed.
“How do you know so much about all this?” Kris asked. “The only time I captured a pirate I had to shoot its bridge full of holes and kill most of the command crew.”
“While we invited them aboard, right kindly-like,” Campbell said through a poorly swallowed laugh. “We were convoying two merchant ships around the Sooner planets when we found this new ship waiting for us at a jump point, the schooner you see parked next to the Dauntless. It sidled up to us right friendly-like and casually announced it was a pirate and we were all its booty. The two merchies pulled up their skirts and started running. We kind of went putt-putt and yelled our engines were not cooperating. So the pirates concentrated on us and came on board. We had ourselves this little ‘panic party’ waiting for them. Several of the Marines and sailors dressed up like ladies and ran around the ship shrieking for help.”