Tenacious

5

Rear Admiral Kris Longknife and her acting, Commodore Kitano, watched the reinforcements pop into the system from Kris’s flag bridge on the Wasp. The flag bridge and Kris’s day quarters were the same space made different only by Kris’s frame of mind. If she was stuck in a meeting, it was her day quarters. If she was commanding a fleet or a battle, it was a bridge.

Either way, the sign on the door said ADMIRAL’S QUARTERS.

The Wasp, like the other ships of Battle Squadron One, was in the final stages of getting underway for their voyage of discovery to the alien home world.

BatRon 1 was down to five ships, what with the Constitution lost and the Princess Royal and Resistance tied up awaiting new armor. To bring it up to a full eight, Kris was borrowing the Wasp, her own flagship, and the Intrepid. Also, despite her initial intent, she’d added the Endeavor, now loaded with low-tech jump-point buoys and designed to shoot just as much while running as chasing.

Commodore Kitano would be left with fifteen experienced fighting ships under her command, now organized into three reduced squadrons.

Together with Jack, Penny, and Captain Drago, they watched as the ships allotted to the Alwa Defense Sector grew.

Kris had thought long and hard about departing before the reinforcements arrived. She’d made the call to stay. What these ships were sailing into deserved a greeting from their commander.

And besides, who would miss a chance to see the fleet come in. It was quite a sight. As well as full of surprises.

The first into the system was a big surprise. “That’s the Odin?” Jack asked no one in particular as the first blip appeared on Kris’s battle board.

So Nelly gave an answer. “She reports herself as the flag of a squadron of frigates from the Scanda Confederacy. The Odin is followed by the Thor, Loki, Frigga, Brage, Heimdallr, Hodur, and Baldur. There are two merchants tailing them, the Valhalla and the Sisu.”

“The Scanda Confederacy isn’t in King Raymond’s United Society,” Penny pointed out.

“And they’re only four planets,” Nelly added. “That’s a lot of ships from so small a confederacy.”

“Somebody wants in on the fight,” Jack said. He might have started his career as a Secret Service Agent, but he’d spent the last five years with the Marines. He’d come to understand the need of some to be there when there was a fight brewing, no matter what the odds.

“The merchant ships are Smart Metal,” Nelly reported before Kris asked.

Good. More ships to convert from starship to system cargo hauler. It would be a downgrade for the crew, but it just might decide whether they all lived or died.

Another set of pips appeared at the jump. No doubt they had arrived several hours ago, but the report was only now reaching Kris’s command above Alwa.

“The Phantom reports she’s the flag of a squadron from New Eden,” Nelly reported as the jump began to spit out more ships. “Voodoo, Banshee, Daemon, Vampire, Werewolf, Fury, and Fire Drake. They’ve got the Proximus, Mary Allen Carter, and James Nathan Carter trailing them. It looks like a repair ship and two supply ships. All Smart Metal.”

“Somebody’s either got a sense of humor or has been reading too much fantasy,” Commodore Kitano muttered.

“Kris, there’s something strange about those warships,” Nelly reported. “They’ve got double the capacitors for their lasers. And their lasers are giving Chief Beni readouts that don’t match anything in our database.”

Kris couldn’t help but notice that when Nelly couldn’t verify the signature of a ship, it was Chief Beni’s problem. However, this might be more of a problem than just a database slip.

“Is this an alien sneak attack?” Kris quickly asked.

Captain Drago was on his feet and headed for his bridge.

“Hold it,” Commodore Kitano said. “There was talk of a new 22-inch laser before we left. They were totally different, not just uprated 18-inchers like our 20-inch lasers. They had teething problems. If what we’re seeing are those big guns, they’re going to look weird to us.”

“Reactors are straight-up human construction per our analysis,” Nelly reported.

Drago came back to the table but stood behind his chair.

Another new squadron was coming in.

“This one’s from Pitt’s Hope. It shows clear U.S. recognition signals,” Nelly reported. “And it has those same strange guns. Battleaxe leading Broadsword, Scimitar, Saber, Arrow, Longbow, Claymore, and Grenade. All standard-make U.S. reactors though. They’re trailed by the Artifex, Appleleaf, Orangeleaf, and Cherryleaf. I make them out to be another repair ship and three supply ships.”

“Let’s hope they didn’t stint on the food,” Kris said.

“Oh, we got a big one,” Nelly announced. “It reports itself the Portsmouth out of Pitt’s Hope. It appears to me that we have another addition to Canopus Station.”

“With all these ships to park, we’ll need some piers,” Kris said.

She made a quick call to Admiral Benson. “I think you have another extension to your station.”

“So I noticed. I sincerely hope whoever is skippering the Portsmouth is as good as Admiral Hiroshi was with the Kure Docks.”

“You might want to get with Hiroshi and coordinate with the new fellow,” Kris said.

“Was already planning on it,” the admiral said, and Kris rang off.

And yet a fourth squadron came through the jump.

“This one is from Yamato,” Nelly reported. “The flag is Mikasa, followed by the Asahi, Hatsuse, Yakumo, Idzumo, Iwate, Asama, and Toikiwa. Those are the warships. There’s also a Tyogei, likely a repair ship since there’s no ‘maru’ after the name, and the Kamoi Maru, Kinugasa Maru, and Kinagawa Maru. Supply ships most likely. Ah, Kris, are Musashi and Yamato on good terms? Should we brigade the two squadrons together or keep them apart?”

“No doubt we’ll find out soon enough,” Kris said.

“Hopefully, you’ll find out before you leave,” Commodore Kitano muttered loud enough for all to hear.

“There’s another huge dockyard-size ship coming through,” Nelly reported. “The Sasebo Maru. Yamato has a Sasebo Navy Shipyard in orbit. This might be another yard for us.”

“If we double our ships, we need to double our yards and docks,” Kris said, standing. “The only question is, do we put it in a trailing orbit or hitch them on to us here. Nelly, ask Admirals Benson and Hiroshi for a report on those two options plus any more they want to present.”

“Oh,” Nelly whispered. “Here’s something even bigger. The Prosperity out of New Eden. Interesting. It’s got two squawkers, one at each end. One says Prosperity in English. The other in Chinese.”

Kris tapped her commlink. “Pipra, do I have a challenge for you.”

“Not another one?”

“Yep. It appears that New Eden has contributed a huge factory ship full of mills and fabricators to our effort. However, having been spawned early from Earth, they’re of two minds. Half started from North America, the other half from China.”

“I think I’ve heard about that setup. They don’t talk too much, do they?”

“Not much from what I heard last visit. However, we’ve got a monstrous factory ship squawking from one end in English and the other end in Chinese.”

“Oh my. And I’m betting you want me to figure out some way to split that getup in half and land each end in some distant crater on the moon with plenty of water and other resources.”

“You got it. Makes me think you’ve been hanging around one of those damn Longknifes,” Kris said with a laugh.

What Pipra said was too low to hear.

“We got another large factory ship,” Nelly reported. “This one calls itself You Can Have It Monday, Maybe.”

“What kind of name is that?” Penny asked.

“I have no idea,” Nelly answered, “but you got to like it. It’s out of New Bern, so it must have corporations from the Helvetican Confederacy.”

“Pipra, can you find space for them as well?” Kris asked.

“Kris, you get me more factory ships, and I’ll find room for them anywhere and everywhere. I love more factory ships.”

“Great, Pipra, because I’m going to leave welcoming these fine folks in your warm and capable hands.”

“You’re going to what?” didn’t quite rise to the level of a scream. Not quite.

“I’ll talk to the Navy types and let them in on the situation. You talk to the business types.”

“You don’t pay me enough for this, woman.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, none of us are getting paid very much of anything,” Kris pointed out.

“I got to change that.”

“You do that and we’ll all celebrate with you.”

“Good-bye, Your Highness,” Pipra said.

“Good-bye, my right-hand gal of business,” Kris said. “I have yet another group coming through,” she said as she rang off. This time four ships appeared.

“Kris, this is a division from the Esperanto League,” Nelly reported. “They’re non-U.S. Their flagship is the Miela, that translates as ‘honey-sweet.’ The next three are Karesinda, Dezirinda, and Spirita, meaning ‘caressable,’ ‘desirable,’ and ‘witty.’”

“Strange names for warships,” Jack said.

“After the Iteeche War, the League passed a law that no warship could have a ‘distressingly combative name,’” Nelly said.

“So they managed to pass a bill authorizing warship construction,” Kris said, trying not to chortle at the political implications, “but not a bill to change the naming law.”

“The next should be the last,” Nelly announced, and the jump promptly gave up six more. “These are from Hispania, a U.S. member. The Libertad is the flag, followed by the Federaciaon, Independencia, and Union. They have two supply ships, Minnow and Koralo. That’s it, Kris. Forty new warships, twenty-four with those strange lasers, two new yards, three repair ships, twelve supply ships, and two very nice factory ships.”

“Not a bad haul,” Captain Drago said. “Especially considering what we’re down to after that last dustup.”

Kris nodded as she thought through her presents . . . and the challenges inherent in her good fortune. She turned to Captain Drago. “I think we’ll be using your Forward Lounge for another meeting. Have Mother MacCreedy lay in a goodly supply of that hooch the Alwans drink.”

Captain Drago made a face. “That stuff is almost undrinkable. Its only virtue is the alcoholic content is so high that after a few sips, you don’t care.”

“That’s all she’ll serve for our extended staff meeting. Let’s introduce our new arrivals to the vagaries of Far Station duty sooner rather than later.”

“You’re a hard taskmaster, Viceroy,” Captain Drago said, “but very likely a smart one.”

“Also, Drago, please send this message to the arriving fleet. ‘Thank you for coming. You’re more than welcome. We won a fleet action three weeks ago, but, no doubt, there is another one coming. If any of your merchant ships are carrying mining supplies, please divert them to one of the mining stations along your route for unloading. Detach a warship to escort them there and down here immediately after. Commander, Alwa Defense Sector sends.’”

“I’ll have it dispatched immediately,” Captain Drago said, then he paused. “Why have the merchants escorted? There are no hostiles anywhere near us.”

“No, but if the merchants get to talking with the locals, they may find out that those that come here stay here and decide to make a run for it. The escort is to shoot their engines out if they try to run, but we won’t tell them that unless we have to, now will we?”

“No, ma’am, we won’t. There are times I forget I’m serving with one of those damn Longknifes. Then you remind me.”

“Yeah, ain’t it the pits,” Kris said, and turned back to her desk. Damn Longknife or nice one, she had three hats to wear and a lot of work that needed redoing in view of the new arrivals.

“Commodore Kitano. We need to reorganize the fleet again. Pull enough ships out of the other squadrons to form five divisions.”

“If we spread the fifteen ships into five divisions of three, we won’t have any combat-ready squadrons.”

“That’s a risk we’ll have to take. Each veteran division will be assigned to one incoming squadron. The Helveticans get the Esperanto and Hispania contingent. Nelly, contact Commodore Miyoshi and see if his division would like to work up with the Yamato squadron. I don’t know who to team together on the others. Maybe during our first meeting in the Forward Lounge, we can find some folks who know each other.”

Kris paused to pull her thoughts back to what her mouth was saying.

“The point is that we have to retrain and restructure these new ships to fight the way we fight. You remember the first drill when you tried to follow one of Nelly’s jinking patterns without enough steering jets, and your ships weren’t battened down for the hard lateral gees.”

“I remember it all too well,” the commodore agreed.

“You can pull ships’ maintainers out of our plucked chickens to help them make the necessary mods before you run them out for a drill.”

“You’re being nice to them.”

“If I’d known it, I’d have been nice to you. I was learning how to maneuver large ships in formations the same time you were learning how to drive them.”

“We all learned a lot.”

“And these new folks have to learn it, too, but fast. Match battle-experienced ships with newcomers. Have them compete to get ready. Have the ships that make the grade drink the beer of those that don’t.”

“That assumes we have beer.”

“How much you want to bet me those newly arrived supply ships have some good drinking whiskey, beer, saki, you name it. When they discover there won’t be any more of that until the next crop comes in, a bet backed up with that will be a whole lot better training aid than their getting knocked around a bit.”

The commodore chuckled. “I’m starting to see why you Longknifes are legendary.”

“You’re starting to see why we’re still alive. And some of those who follow us as well.”

Kris finished a few minutes later with Commodore Kitano and sent her on her way. Admirals Benson and Hiroshi were next on her meeting list. They’d already established contact with Portsmouth and Sasebo. Yes, they were yards and both admirals present agreed they should hook into Canopus Station.

“There’s some risk putting all our eggs in one basket,” Admiral Benson said, “but there are advantages to keeping the fleet together. If we grow much more, we’ll need a second base to avoid congestion, but we’re not there yet.”

“Can you make sure they match the station without denting anything?” Kris asked.

“I did it fine,” Admiral Hiroshi said. “They can, too. Besides, we’ll put the pilots that docked me aboard them. First, I’ll hitch Tomiyama’s Sasebo yards to me, then Benson can hitch the Portsmouth yards to him. Two days after they arrive, we will be in fine shape.”

Kris liked to hear that.

Which left her with the business side.

Pipra had enough on her plate to keep Kris busy until the cows came home, as the young woman put it, or, at least, until the fleet arrived. There were supplies to distribute among the mining concerns, plans to convert the new arrivals into system freighters, and production schedules at the fabricators and mills to balance.

Putting agriculture, fisheries, and the basic industries that supported them as first priority was nice, but it left raw materials and production facilities underutilized. A bit of juggling and you got a bit less food produced, but reactors moved along the production line with more Smart Metal^TM and electronic goodies that tied the colonials and the Alwans tighter into a seamless net for survival.

Pipra showed up with a list of what manufacturing plants they had and what had just arrived. She took Kris through several iterations of resource allocation before they settled on the best use of everything.

“You know,” Kris admitted when they were done. “If we keep this up, I’m going to develop a serious respect for what you do.”

Pipra only smiled softly at Kris’s half compliment. “Well, I’ve already developed a serious respect for what you Navy types do. It would be nice if I got as much respect back from you and yours.”

That put Kris back in her chair. She kept saying that they were all in this together. She said it, but she didn’t really mean it. The Navy was always first in her mind’s eye. But the Navy would be fighting bare ass in space if it wasn’t for what these industrial workers and managers were producing to arm them and feed them. From her father’s knee, she’d learned to mouth the platitudes of all for one and one for all, but she’d never really believed it.

There always seemed to be someone who was more equal than others.

Now, with enough hats on her own head to give anyone a migraine, Kris was having her nose rubbed in the truth of what she’d said.

“Thank you, Pipra. I think I needed that bucket of cold water in my face.”

“I didn’t mean to give offense,” Pipra said, then changed her direction. “You’re one of the best bosses I’ve ever worked for. I don’t want you taking me wrong.”

“I’m not,” Kris said, trying to take the pressure off the woman across the table from her. “I really mean what I said. Working with you is making me see things I thought I saw but was blind to. I know this is tough on you. Tough on all the folks you’ve got working for you. I can’t promise anyone a bed of roses, but I can say that I see how all of us—Navy, miners, production workers, and management—are making this happen. And that we’d all be dead without each and every one of us.”

With that, Pipra packed up her briefcase. She left just as Jack was coming back from his long day’s work. Kris and he went out for a quick bite, then shared a shower and a very warm bed.

Tomorrow would come all too quickly. Jack made it easy to fall asleep.