''Resign from the Navy today, and I'll give you the Navy Cross for your part in whatever didn't happen at Paris.''
The general is politicking. ''This my father's idea?''
He snorted. ''If your father so much as peeps publicly he wants this, I'd be fighting him tooth and nail, just as publicly. Half my officer corps would have my head if I gave in to him.''
Kris considered herself politically savvy; this clearly was a political hot potato in her hand. She glanced again at the resignation. ''So why are you asking me to quit?''
''You relieved your last CO, and his superior tried to kill you. Ensign Longknife, who should I assign you to next?''
Kris tried to see herself from Mac's perspective. Well, Hancock would have her back. Or would he? It had been a learning experience…for both of them. But it was not an experience either needed to repeat. Ship duty was her first choice. But what skipper would want to see her on his bridge? ''Hi, sir, I'm the prime minister's brat, maybe even a princess. I hope we get along fine. I relieved my last CO.'' Right. No way they could give her her own command. Ensigns do not command. Besides, every command position was subordinated to someone. Mac here reported to her father, and Kris knew well that Father considered every voter on Wardhaven as his boss.
''I don't know who would take me, sir. But certainly there has to be some place in the Navy for me,'' she said, setting the resignation on the table between them. ''I won't resign.''
''Why?'' Now it was the general who seemed content to wait until space boiled for her answer.
''Because I want to stay in the Navy, sir.''
''Why?'' he shot right back.
Kris paused for a moment; Chief Bo's late-night counseling session came to mind. ''Sir, an old chief once asked me why I joined the Navy. She wasn't much impressed with my answer.'' The general smiled, leaving Kris to wonder if he'd once had the same counseling session.
''A Highland captain shared her family story of how her grampa and mine survived Black Mountain, and what it means, now, to be an officer in their shadow.'' That seemed to surprise the general. Kris leaned forward; her answer must be short. She poured all the passion she could into its few words. ''Sir. I am Navy. This is my home.'' She handed him back her unsigned resignation. ''I will not walk away.''
Mac glanced at the form, sighed, then slowly tore it in two. Its static charge broken, the words vanished from the plastic as if they'd never been written. ''That settles that. A word of advice to you, woman. Half of the officer corps is cheering you. Half think you're a mutineer who should be cashiered with the others. Good luck telling the two apart.''
He reached for the medals on the coffee table. First he picked up the Legion of Merit. ''You earned this one on Olympia.'' He tossed it to her. ''There will be no formal ceremony. Wear it in good health.''
Kris looked at the box; this wasn't the way it was supposed to be. Her crew on Olympia, people like Willie, deserved better. But because of her, there would be no official recognition. Would all her joys be so mixed?
The general picked up the Navy Cross, opened the box, studied it thoughtfully, then closed it again. Standing, he muttered. ''We'll think about this one for a while. Might wait to see what Earth does about your role in that Paris thing.''
Kris started to stand, but he waved her back down. From his desk he retrieved another flimsy. ''Present emergency is botching up all kinds of things. We'll be commissioning a flock of new ensigns. BuPer is promoting all ensigns with four months in grade to lieutenant, JG. It seems you are exactly one day into that window. So, instead of keelhauling you, I'm promoting you.'' He glanced back at her. ''Purely by the numbers, you know.''
''Luck of the commissioning date.'' She assured him of her understanding but couldn't suppress her grin. He went around his desk and retrieved something from a drawer. It took her a moment to identify what he held. What was an army general doing with a set of JG shoulder boards? She stood as he walked toward her.
''My father was Navy,'' he said. ''I don't think he ever forgave me for going Army. These were his shoulder boards. I'd appreciate it if you'd wear them.''
Kris blinked. This was not at all what she expected when she was summoned here. ''I'd be honored, sir.''
General McMorrison removed the ones on her shoulders and replaced them with his gift. ''I'm actually returning these,'' he told her as he worked the fasteners. ''They were given to my dad by your late Great-grandmother Rita Nuu Longknife. He got news of his promotion when on the Oasis taking her and Ray to their rendezvous with President Urm.''
Kris shivered; Grandma Rita had died in the Iteeche War. Not all Longknifes survived to listen to the media folks get it wrong. Standing tall, Kris waited while General McMorrison finished. It wasn't the extra half stripe that made them heavy. ''I will try to wear them as honorably as your father and my great grandmother did,'' she said when he was done.
''I am sure that you will,'' he said simply in dismissal.
She saluted; he returned it. She marched slowly from his office. Jack fell in step beside her as she headed once more for the exit. Coming in, she expected to leave a civilian. Instead, she was leaving promoted. Promoted! For the first time, maybe in her whole life, she knew what she wanted. She'd demanded it. She'd refused to give it up…and it was hers. She smiled as she came into the bright daylight. The deep blue of the sky held no rainbow, but Kris now knew what lay at the end of one.
''I see they didn't hang you,'' Jack said.
Kris bounced lightly on her heels, looked around at the buildings of Navy, Army, government, and smiled. ''Nope, they missed their chance. The Navy still has a Longknife.''
''Why do I feel like saying, ‘God help us all'?'' Jack said.
'' ‘Cause it just may be true,'' Kris said and waved for Harvey.