Defender

31

“Atten-hut,” greeted Kris once more, and she did her best to say, “As you were,” before too many people were out of their chairs. The wardroom had three long tables, pretty empty this time of day. Most present had congregated at the far end, near the coffee urn.

Kris went to stand beside the urn. Either she or the coffee should hold their attention.

“The first exercise always looks worst. We’ve had ours. Now we’ll do better. You have the rest of today and tomorrow to mend and make ready for a repeat of this exercise Thursday.”

She paused before adding, “We will do better,” in a voice that left no room for doubt.

She searched around the room. Most were seated in groups of six around their captain. There was a group of five. “Lieutenant Sims, I believe you are the XO of the Constellation.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the young JO said, jumping to his feet.

“You are, effective immediately, acting captain.”

Getting a ship is supposed to be an officer’s dream. Lieutenant Sims’s face showed no joy. He looked more like Kris had invited him to his own hanging.

She’d have to do something about that, and quick.

“Mr. Benson,” Kris said.

“Yes, Your Highness,” the old admiral replied.

“The Constellation will not be involved in any more squadron exercises for now. It is to go into the yard as soon as you finish up-gunning the Wasp and Intrepid. I expect that to be in ten days or so. Mr. Sims, you and the crew of the Constellation have ten days to mend and make ready so the yard has little to do when they get you but remove the Hellburners and remove more of your Smart Metal.”

The man gulped. Now his face showed relief that he wouldn’t be taking the Connie out anytime soon, but Kris had also dropped a heavy burden on him and his crew. She expected a lot of what was wrong to be right before the yard had to lend a hand.

“And, Mr. Sims, if I were in your shoes, I’d set Condition Able and give the crew some more comfortable and private quarters. We’re a long way from home and we have those bastards breathing down our neck. Things are bad enough without hunting for morale problems.”

“Yes, ma’am. Good idea.” At last, he showed relief.

“Now, to our main problem. We came here to fight. We brought a base force, thank you very much, Mr. Benson, to keep us in fighting shape. We brought an industrial base to support us. We brought everything we thought we needed, but it doesn’t seem to be enough.” Kris paused. It was clear her listeners had already gotten The Word.

“They say an Army moves on its stomach, and, at least in that one way, Navies are the same. The folks below have been living on the edge of starvation for eighty years, and they don’t have a reserve that can feed twenty thousand more mouths. We must feed ourselves.”

“And the beer, ma’am?”

Kris didn’t see where the question came from, but she had the answer and gave it to them. “Since we arrived, the colonials have not had a drop to drink. They’ve given us all they have. I wondered why I was drinking water on my honeymoon.”

That got a laugh, but a dry one.

“This morning, Marines dropped down to look at several ways to increase the food available to us and the colonials. Some worked. Others were less successful. A few big-toothed critters thought to develop a taste for Marine and will be served up as barbecue tonight.”

More laughter.

“If the Marines get their sights on more of them, we may be serving a new kind of burger at the Canopus Burger Bin.”

Some looked intrigued by the thought of a new taste. Others, not so much.

“As soon as I finish here, I’ve got a meeting scheduled with the industrial and mining types. We’ll be going over their plans. Those plans will now include such logistical items as steel fishing boats, aircraft to speed up the survey of this planet, and trucks and ships to haul food from where we find it to where our stomachs are. They are in for a surprise.”

That got a good laugh. The Navy had a thing about surprising proud business types.

“However, we need to get more food moving into our supply chain fast. The fastest way to do that is to use Smart Metal to knock together some things we need quickly. The only source for Smart Metal is the ships you’re training to fight. We’ll be off-loading anything that doesn’t have to be on you. Marines, scientists, Hellburners. That will give us some Smart Metal.”

Kris paused. The room had gotten real quiet.

“Also, we’ll be off-loading more Smart Metal by thinning your armor. The plan is to return all the Smart Metal before we have to fight.”

“How you gonna do that?” Again, Kris didn’t see her questioner, but she clearly spoke for the whole room.

“We brought jump point and communication buoys. We have enough to cover every jump within twelve jumps of this planet. If a buoy goes silent, we go on alert. If two in a row go down, we drop everything and get ready to fight.”

That didn’t settle the question as well as it could. Some seemed sure the warning system would work. Others were doubters.

Kris recognized an argument she could not win and went on.

“We’ll also be taking some of your personnel to crew fishing boats and a freighter or two, fly transports, and go hunting. Some shore leaves may involve a lot fewer bars and a lot more digging for wild vegetables and fruits, maybe even hunting for meat.”

“Well, if we’ve drunk the pubs dry, I might feel like shooting something,” a wag offered, and got the laugh he deserved.

Kris let the room enjoy the humor and waited until it sobered.

“Good men and women died fighting that the people on this planet might live. Yes, we’ve got a hard fight ahead of us, but it’s one we can win. Yes, getting ready for this fight just got harder and more complicated, but it’s nothing we can’t handle together. When we look back on this, we will have quite a tale to tell our grandkids. Every time they hear it, they will know that they come from heroes.

“Dismissed.”