Kris Longknife: Tenacious (Kris Longknife novellas Book 12) by Mike Shepherd Read Free Book Online Page B

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.

6
    As Kris was preparing to head up to the Forward Lounge and meet her new ship drivers, there was a knock at her door.
    “Enter,” she said, hoping Pipra hadn’t stumbled onto an even better way of merging their limited, if now expanded, resources, but the two commodores who entered her day quarters were strangers to her.
    “I am Commodore L’Estock of Pitt’s Hope,” one said.
    “And I am Commodore Shoalter of New Eden,” the other said.
    “And we have a present for you,” the first finished for them.
    That told Kris that the two senior U.S. commanders most recently arrived from home were paying her a call, formal or otherwise, but not much else. L’Estock handed a small package to Kris. Not at all happy at the game they were playing, but curious still, Kris opened the box. Inside was a blue flag.
    She shook it out. It had three white stars. Wrapped in it were the shoulder boards of a vice admiral. There was also a pair of papers. One was rather lovely calligraphy and signed by Grampa Ray. No, this was definitely the signature of a very kingly King Raymond I. It proclaimed to all present her right to wear the rank of a vice admiral. The other were the formal orders fleeting her up to the three-star rank, while keeping her pay grade at a lowly captain’s.
    Buried in the small print was her delegation of authority to fleet up people to the rank of rear admiral and below. Fleet them up but not give them any extra pay.
    The bigger surprise was that she could do this for anyone serving in her theater of operations, be they U.S. or otherwise. Apparently, at least some people were taking the need to defend against the raiders seriously enough to forget who was in whose alliance.
    At least on far Alwa Station.
    Kris read it all, then glanced up at the two grinning