“Both seemed like a good idea at the time,” Kris said with the best innocent shrug she could manage.
“Well, while the cats are scoring their own points, the rats are getting out of hand. We’ve got problems with pirates,” the king said. “Pirates and refugees.”
“Pirates and refugees?” Kris said. “That’s the strangest combination I have ever heard. Any chance you’ll explain it to little old me?”
The king seemed about to choke on that, but said, “People are fleeing the internal strife on more and more Peterwald planets. They’re heading out to Sooner territory, setting up refugee camps there or on totally new planets. Horrible conditions. Some have even ended up on pirate planets. We think there are at least two planets that have become pirate bases. People there are no better than slaves.”
“Our reliable sources tell us that a couple of new designer drugs that have recently shown up in human space are coming from them,” Crossie said.
“There’s one more thing, Kris,” Mac said. “These refugees are grabbing whatever they can lay their hands on and cram ming themselves into any ship that can risk space. Not all of them get where they are going, Lieutenant. You’ll need to be ready to take on refugees as well as knock heads in your next job.”
“What next job?”
“We’re giving you command of Patrol Squadron 10, Kris,” Mac said. “It isn’t much, just a couple of armed merchant ships like the Wasp. We want you to patrol the open border of Greenfeld territory looking for pirates, drugs, whatever.”
“What does Peterwald think about this?”
“We haven’t asked him,” the king said. “And I don’t intend to. That why I’m sending you. He owes you his life. You seem to have gotten along with his daughter, Vicky. I’m hoping that they won’t take you for a poacher in their space.”
Kris leaned back in her chair. She wanted to be mad. She wanted to let her frustration rage at them for not letting her do the job she wanted to do. And yet, there was no question that if the U.S. sent a squadron of cruisers to patrol along the Greenfeld border, there would be all kinds of hell to pay . . . maybe even war if one horrible misstep led to another.
Kris let out a sigh. A couple of converted merchants with their lasers carefully hidden might not cause the same problems.
And Vicky. Well, if the two of them got together, they might have a few minutes of good time. And take a little bit of the heat off the situation.
Once again, they’d gotten to her. One more time, they’d found the job that she just might be the only one who could do. The first time it happened, she’d been swept off her feet. Delighted to be the only one with the right finger to fit in the dike. It was amazing how fast that lost its luster.
Or maybe she was developing her own opinion as to which dike she wanted to put her finger in.
Kris sighed. “I’ll take the job. But how’s a lieutenant supposed to command a squadron, even of converts?”
Mac pulled out an envelope and poured its contents on the table in front of him. Two shoulder boards fell out. Shoulder boards with the two and a half stripes of a lieutenant commander.
“Congratulations, Commander,” General Mac said. “You just made it into the window for double-deep selection. I’ve arranged to have all the paperwork cut so that you’ll have about ten minutes’ seniority on all the other lieutenant commanders in your squadron.”
“This is going to be so much fun,” Kris grumbled.
The king stood. It was clear to all that he’d done what he had come for and was eager to go. Kris levered herself out of the chair. The others stood, and he made his exit.
Admiral Crossenshield followed in the king’s footsteps up to the door, then paused. “Your plug-in for Nelly to your brain got slagged by that bomb?”
“It very much did,” Kris admitted.
“You’ll need to get that fixed.”
“I’ll see what I can do about it before I sail.”
“I’ve got you scheduled with the best brain surgeon on Wardhaven for nine tomorrow morning.”
“He’ll need to see my medical records.”
“I had them sent from Texarkana. You took a slow boat home, darling. She finished studying them last week. You go in. She’ll do a quick check. If there are no surprises, she’ll fix you up before you leave.”
“I don’t work for you, honey,” Kris snapped, returning a “honey” for his “darling.”
“But isn’t it nice having me look after you once in a while?”
Kris said something evil that only made Crossie laugh as he followed the king.
General Mac paused beside Kris in his own exit. “Here is a list of the ships in PatRon 10. Taussig has the Hornet. Jack Campbell has the Dauntless. You don’t know him, but he’s good people.”
Kris glanced down the flimsy. Skippers’ names were matched with ships and their types, but it told her very little. What fighting capability did the Hornet or Dauntless have? A supply ship was named the Surprise. That . . . was not encouraging. “Thank you,” she told the general.
Once the elders were gone, Kris and her team collapsed into their seats. “Kris,” the colonel said, “I don’t mind fighting your fights, but attending your senior staff meetings. It’s taking years off my life.”
“What’s the matter with you wimps? Can’t handle a little family get-together with my grampa?” Kris said, relaxing deep into her chair.
“Maybe I could,” the colonel said, “if there were fewer stars in the room.”
“Maybe I could,” Penny added, “if you didn’t always turn them into fights. I love my grandpop!”
“Lucky you. Penny, can you run up to the Wasp and let Ron in on the secret. I don’t think he’ll be surprised. Tell him we’ll be headed out for the demilitarized zone in a couple of days. Until then, he can use my library card at Wardhaven U.”
“You going to the doc tomorrow?” Jack asked.
“Yeah, I kind of miss having Nelly bouncing around in my head.”
“You sure you can trust any doc Crossie hired?” Jack whispered.
“Nelly, can you do a thorough check for a bug.”
“Yes, Kris.”
Nelly was kind of quiet these days. Kris found she liked the quiet, too, and missed the lip, both at the same time.
Weird.
The others left to find the rooms prepared for them. Kris stayed until all of them were gone.
“Nelly, is this room secure?”
“Yes, Kris. They swept it for the king, and he didn’t leave anything behind. Not even Crossie did.”
“I thought now might be safe. Nelly, I’m mad.”
“I noticed that your pulse was up. Are you okay?”
“No more than the usual pain. I got a ringing in my ear that sounds like an out-of-tune brass band. But mainly, I’m mad. Mad that Grampa Ray isn’t helping Ron. Blast it, Nelly, he didn’t tell me a single thing he did to help the Iteeche. As far as I can tell, I damn near got myself killed doing what he asked of me, and he didn’t do a single thing to help Ron.”
“You don’t know that, Kris. He could have done things. He just didn’t tell you. It was a very brief meeting.”
“He made sure it was short. They arranged it so I never got to ask him anything specific. I could really hate that man.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way, Kris.”
“Nelly, you are not my shrink.”
“No, I am not, Kris, but you told me once it is important to talk things out. I am willing to listen.”