rethink her strategy for the small attack rockets when one of them blew up with atomic force just short of her line of circling frigates.
“All ships, accelerate away from the small attack boys at two gee. Concentrate all fire on them.”
It was fine to slice and dice a monstrous alien base when you had all the time in the world. It would be a shame to lose a ship after she’d won the battle.
Frigates changed course as main and secondary batteries played over the approaching wave of little boys.
One more exploded in an atomic ball of fire, but most vanished away with neither a bang nor a whimper.
Kris ordered her squadrons to re-form and prepare to receive the closing alien warships. She’d won this battle, but she could still lose ships and lives. She’d manage what was left at arm’s length.
It turned out that she didn’t have to.
Four ships broke away from the oncoming ships, heading for the third jump. The others began to blossom into huge balls of fire and gas as their captains took counsel with despair and gave their ships back to dust.
“L’Estock, take your least damaged ships and pursue this last bunch,” Kris ordered.
“With pleasure. Do you want me to pursue the ones that left earlier?”
Kris weighed the last three against the need to get all her ships back to Alwa. There was also the matter of what surprises the fleeing ships might leave in their wake.
“You should be able to get these four without having to follow right behind them and dodge any nice presents they leave. Get them and follow us home.”
“Aye, aye, Admiral, and may I say, as one who’s just fought his first battle, it was a pleasure to serve under you.”
“You may, but don’t tell my husband,” Kris said, and immediately regretted letting her mind dash off to that gutter.
Still, the net seemed to enjoy the joke, and Jack was grinning as she turned back to him.
“May I help you out of your egg, Admiral, my love,” he said.
“Please do,” Kris said.
8
Next morning, with no battle to worry about, Kris found herself again bolting from the wardroom to dash for the head in her quarters.
What she’d just put in her tummy came right back up. Explosively.
NELLY, THERE HAS TO BE A FLU BUG OR SOMETHING, Kris said as she heaved more fine food into the toilet.
SORRY, KRIS. NO BUG. WE GOT RID OF THE BUGS THAT ARRIVED WITH THE NEW SHIPS WITHOUT A SINGLE OUTBREAK. NO FOOD POISONING EITHER. I RAN A CHECK ON EVERYTHING IN THE MESS YESTERDAY, AND IT’S ALL UP TO SPECS.
IN YOUR INFINITE SPARE TIME WHEN WE WEREN’T UP TO OUR NECKS IN PEOPLE WANTING TO KILL US, Kris thought sourly.
YES, Nelly answered. She said nothing more. She didn’t need to.
Kris scowled through her tormented stomach. Of course Nelly can fight a battle and check on chow’s safety. She’s a computer.
Kris stood, rinsed her mouth out, then bent over as more breakfast explosively departed.
DAMN IT, NELLY, WHAT’S WRONG?
AH, KRIS, WHEN WAS YOUR LAST PERIOD? was almost in a whisper.
The question alone was enough to make Kris’s stomach lurch.
THINGS HAVE BEEN A BIT TENSE OF LATE. THEY’VE BEEN KIND OF SCANTY.
HOW SCANTY?
Kris didn’t answer her computer. The last one had only required one pad, and hadn’t had that much to show.
I CAN’T BE PREGNANT, NELLY, I JUST GOT MY BIRTH-CONTROL IMPLANTS REPLACED LAST MONTH, Kris thought, her hand going to her arm where the implant site was still a bit sensitive. It and the place where the old implants had been removed.
It was Navy policy, long before Kris joined, and certainly before Kris modified the fraternization regs, that every female recruit was issued birth-control implants. Every three years, like clockwork, they were replaced.
Kris had just entered her seventh year of service. She’d been issued new implants during her physical.
I CAN’T BE PREGNANT, Kris repeated.
ALLOW ME TO APPLY LOGIC TO THIS SITUATION, Nelly said in her oh-so-reasonable voice.
Kris scowled. Nelly could come