''And don't forget that situation on the Typhoon,'' General Mac McMorrison had reminded her at their last meeting.
Situation. What a nice ambiguous word. It avoided the more specific and nasty word… mutiny. Kris had actually taken a friend's half-joking suggestion and hired a PR firm to come up with a better word for what developed on the Typhoon. Several large checks later, their report had been hardly worth a laugh. Probably because Kris hadn't felt all that much like laughing after the Battle of Wardhaven and the loss of so many friends. No, the Typhoon and mutiny were going to be tied closely with her first year in the Navy.
''Still having problems finding skippers willing to take me?''
''Afraid so. Commodore Mandanti put in a good word after your service in Squadron 8, but most of his friends are retired, like he was. And even his good word kind of leaves skippers wondering when you'll decide you've had enough of being a good subordinate and head off for points unknown.''
Kris shrugged. ''Training Command was working so well.''
''But no planet small enough to need Fast Patrol boats for its defense can afford the kind of security you need. And no one wants to be the planet that has to explain to Ray Longknife… or Billy… that you got killed on their watch. Sorry, Your Highness, but once again, we need to find work for you.''
''What's Sandy Santiago doing?'' Kris said, with hope.
''You mean Captain Santiago,'' Mac corrected her. ''I've got her straightening up some of the mess left behind by that little visit those six pirate battleships did on us.''
''Pirate battleships my eye,'' Kris spat.
''You want to attack the Greenfeld Confederacy?''
''No,'' Kris admitted. Wardhaven's United Sentients and Greenfeld's Confederacy were too evenly matched; open war between them would lead to all kinds of horrors. Which was why Greenfeld dearly wanted Wardhaven in a fight with someone while Greenfeld added this or that additional star to its black and red flag. Meanwhile, they skirmished around the edges.
''So Captain Santiago doesn't have a ship command at the moment,'' Kris said. As a very junior lieutenant, Kris very much wanted to stay in the fleet, not get tagged as a staff weenie.
Mac shuffled flimsies, one of which was Kris's resignation. They never had one of these counseling sessions without him having her resignation handy. ''You adamant about a ship assignment? What would you think of an independent command?''
''Didn't you tell me during an earlier one of these chats that lieutenants don't get independent commands?''
''I may have been mistaken. It happens occasionally, even to folks with stars on their shoulders. Ask your gramps.''
This was after Grampa Trouble pulled his ''draft Jack'' stunt and Kris wasn't talking to either one of her grampas just then. She kept her face blank and said, ''What kind of independent command can a lieutenant have?''
''How about a Naval District?''
Kris frowned at the joke. ''Aren't those slots all Rear Admirals?'' Kris struggled to keep her voice even. Lieutenants do not chide four stars. Even when the lieutenant is a princess. Especially when the lieutenant is a princess.
''That's what I'd have said a week ago. But BuPers got this retirement chit from a lieutenant commanding Naval District 41.''
Kris didn't know which to react to first. Lieutenant. Commanding. Naval District 41. She'd never heard of any such Naval District. She settled her face to bland and let Mac play this one the way he wanted to. After all, he did wear four stars. He ought to have some fun sometimes.
''It seems we inherited 41 when Society broke up. Earth hadn't been paying much attention to it, except to cut its budget every year. I don't think they've had anything but local reservists on the staff, except for this lieutenant commanding.''
''How did a lieutenant get command of a Naval district?'' Kris couldn't sit on that question any longer.
''Actually, he was temporary acting. A captain assigned to Naval District 41 died in transit.'' Mac shuffled his flimsies. ''Next one wrangled a better assignment. They never got around to assigning anyone else, so this fellow put in his twenty and filed for retirement.'' Mac looked up. ''With us.''
''Retiring at twenty as a lieutenant?'' Kris whispered.
''Says here he wants to run a chicken farm full-time.''
''You're thinking of sticking me out there for my twenty?''
Mac shuffled her resignation to the top of his stack again.
''Cut my orders,'' Kris said.
''Besides First Lieutenant Montoya, do you want anyone else?''
''Lieutenant Pasley-Lien on Intel.''
''She's still not fully recovered from her wounds,'' the general said, raising an eyebrow. The physical wounds were healing. The mental pay for being alive at the cost of her bridegroom's life would be a long time balancing.
''She did fine in Training Command. She needs work more than anything else.'' And Longknifes take care of those they break.
The general nodded.
''Does Captain Santiago want Beni back?''
''Actually, she was hoping you could make a sailor out of him. Any progress there?''
''Not much, but he is due for his chief's hat.''
''A bit early, isn't it,'' the general said, and danged if he didn't have another flimsy to check.
''Deep selection, but he deserves it.''
And so Kris found herself hundreds of light-years away from home, clicking the safety back on her automatic before she holstered it and staring down at a set of flimsies written to her by a man she'd never met but whose fate in life she might repeat.
To: Prospective Commanding Officer, Naval District 41
From: Commanding Officer, Naval District 41, retiring.
Subject: Change of Command Ceremony
There ain't going to be one.
Sorry about that, but I had to do what I had to do while I could still do it. The reservists have served with me for a whole lot more hours than any of them ever expected to. They deserve the retirements I signed them in to.
And they don't deserve to be dragged all over space to fit into whatever plans you Longknifes may have for them now that you've noticed that they're here. Wardhaven and Earth ignored us for as long as it suited you. So now that you noticed us after I applied for my retirement, I figured I better look after my own. Bet nobody expected me, a mere lieutenant to exercise the full authority of a Naval District Commander? Got you there.
Nelly, can I approve the request for reservists to RETIRE?
Per existing regulations, you may approve retirement REQUESTS FOR ANY ENLISTED RESERVE PERSONNEL WHO HAVE MET THE STATUTORY REQUIREMENTS. AT LEAST, A Naval District Commander can, Nelly added.
But who'd have expected a lieutenant to do that. Well, you leave a lieutenant in an admiral's job for fifteen years and he's bound to notice options the usual JO wouldn't.
And he is retired now. It is not like we can do something TO HIM.
There were snickers from behind Kris. Chief Beni and Penny were looking over her shoulder. Jack looked about to bust a gut wondering what the message said that was causing such humor, but he manfully stood his watch.
''There won't be a change of command,'' Kris said for Jack's benefit. ''Seems the last CO also retired all his reservists.''
''No active duty?'' Jack said, frowning.
''Not a one,'' the chief chortled.
''At ease,'' Kris growled.
Jack blinked, taking it all in, then shook his head. ''You can't command if there's no one to command,'' he said with much the same absoluteness that a child might say, ''One and one is two.''