The Intel officer relaxed into her chair. ''That's a relief. For a moment, I was afraid you wanted me to hijack one.''
''She'd never do that,'' Jack said, face dead serious. ''If there's a ship to be stolen, she'll do it herself.''
Kris shot Jack a glare but he just grinned back at her. Kris returned her attention to the Navy lieutenant. ''All we need is a small merchant vessel with a hold large enough for a half dozen spare buoys. Obviously, it needs to be jump capable. Bigger than our PFs, smaller than a corvette like the Typhoon.''
Penny was nodding, but a frown was growing. ''And you want me to lease it. With what?''
''Nelly, arrange a line of credit on my account.''
Penny shook her head. ''Kris, didn't you learn anything from all the flack you got from the Navy for using your personal computer for official business. Just because they've given up telling you that you can't have Nelly do this or that…''
''I should hope so,'' Nelly cut in.
''But renting your own ship for Navy business…''
''So we don't tell them and it won't bother them.''
''What they don't know won't hurt us,'' Jack sighed.
''You're catching on,'' Kris said.
''Lorna Do is the next port of call for the St. Pete?'' Penny said, getting lost in thought. ''I guess I could rent something.''
''A six-month wet lease,'' Kris advised. ''Include a crew. From the looks of things, we're going to need one.''
''For buoy tending,'' Penny said.
''And other duties as I may assign,'' Kris added.
''Don't tell them a Longknife is involved or no one will take the contract,'' Jack added dryly.
''You really think so,'' Penny said, then seemed to think better of it and nodded. ''Yeah, you're right. I don't think I'll mention who I'm working with.''
''You going to send her alone,'' Jack said, softly.
Kris didn't need the hint. Left all on her own, Kris wasn't sure Penny would survive a long trip. ''I'll send Abby along to make sure no one hassles you,'' Kris said. ''I won't need her to gussy me up for balls. Things ought to be pretty quiet here.''
''Things are pretty quiet here,'' the chief pointed out.
''Wonder how long that will last?'' Penny said.
''At least five or ten minutes,'' Jack said.
''Folks, this is a backwater. Nothing ever happens at Chance. That's why they gave me Naval District 41.''
''Yeah. Right,'' came from Kris's three nominal subordinates.
Kris watched on the station's screen as the Pride of St. Petersburg boosted out of orbit. Abby had been hired by Kris's mother to be a personal maid but she hadn't complained about being sent off with Penny. Kris was no longer surprised by anything Abby did. Or didn't do.
''I wonder how many steamer trunks she's got with her this trip?'' Jack asked no one in particular.
''She brought twelve aboard,'' Kris said. ''I was looking forward to seeing how many she rolled off the St. Pete.'' For some strange reason, Abby always had a better idea of how much trouble Kris was headed into. The number of steamer trunks following Abby rather regularly… and accurately… foretold how many rabbits Kris would need to pull out of hats to get free of whatever mess she ended up in.
Kris kept telling herself she needed to have a talk with Abby, but somehow the time was never quite right for such a sit-down. Maybe, if Naval District 41 was as quiet as claimed, she and Abby could finally have that heart-to-heart girl talk.
Kris turned away from the screen, rubbed her hands together, and smiled, an optimistic little thing that she rarely got to use. ''Let's see what we have here.''
Six hours later, she kind of wished she hadn't.
She started with the Patton. Or those parts of the ship not closed off with doors marked Do Not Open. Low Pressure Beyond. That eliminated a major chunk of the ship from review.
On the bridge, Kris could only shake her head. ''I was very glad to see the Patton and the rest of Scout Squadron 54 show up at Paris when they did. The reserve crew's work to get her moving must have been nothing short of heroic.''
''The Patton helped you?'' Jack was one of the few people cleared to know exactly what happened when the Wardhaven and Earth fleets gathered at the Paris system to sign the de-evolution agreement that formally dissolved the Society of Humanity… and why they didn't go to war over it. Kris's part in that was still much debated by those in the know.
''Yep, it turned out Grampa Trouble served on the Patton, a long time ago. He and Great-grandma Ruth honeymooned on it.''
Jack raised an eyebrow. ''Must have been in better shape.''
''Not as Grampa tells it. They were attacked by pirates once. The skipper ordered a broadside and the ship did loop the loops instead. A system board had been installed backward.''
Jack shook his head. ''Well, it doesn't look any better now. Your orders frock you up to commander if you commission her.'' He arched an eyebrow.
Does he really think I'm that rank happy?
''I think I'll live longer if I stay a lieutenant.''
''Finally, something we can agree on.''
Nelly wanted Kris to power up the sensors on the boat, see if Kris could locate the putative extra jump point out of the system that the data on Nelly's bit of rock from the Santa Maria mountains seemed to show. Most of the navigation instruments had red flags draped on them. Out of Order.
Guess we'll have to take that look another time.
Nelly wasn't buying that answer. But does it mean out of order or just that they were picking up my jump point and didn't know how to read it?
Down, girl. The ship has no power. The station's barely on. Your time is coming. Patience my dear.
Patience my nonexistent ass! Was Nelly's unladylike response.
Kris found herself biting her lip to control a laugh.
''Want to let me in on the joke?'' Jack asked.
''No, just me and my insubordinate computer. Nelly is not behaving.'' Jack accepted the explanation with visible doubt.
The rest of the station was shipshape and empty. Kris checked an auto gun. It was locked down locally, ammunition belts removed. If she wanted to defend this station, she'd need them reactivated. And people to monitor their fire. The station had close-in defense lasers. Kris didn't have the juice to power any of them up. So long as the station was on solar cells, it could operate. To become a going concern, it needed its fusion reactor on-line. Three people could not run a reactor even if they were trained to do it. Kris's weren't.
''I could run it if you want me to,'' Nelly offered. Jack and Beni both looked relieved when Kris declined the offer.
Kris found her quarters as Commander, Naval District 41. Somehow in the quick turnaround of the St. Pete, Abby had slipped one of her steamer trunks up to Kris's room. Just one, and it held only Kris's uniforms and personal effects.
Jack found a trunk in his quarters, or at least the quarters for the District's never-used Deputy Commander across the hall from Kris's. His trunk also had Beni's duffel bag on top of it. The chief settled into the room next to Jack's, a nice one officially designated for VIP guests. Jack and Beni arranged enough security along the corridor to satisfy themselves that neither needed to maintain a watch through the night.
Kris left them to worry about that, set Nelly on watch, and slept the night through.
She awoke early the next morning to find that the station had continued its routine journey around Chance, there was still air to breathe and no cannibals had nibbled her toes. Finding a set of fresh khakis in the trunk, Kris showered, dressed, and went looking for something to eat. That last lunch on the St. Pete, while nicely cruise-ship huge, was a distant memory.
She found a mess large enough to seat a hundred, a kitchen fit to feed a similar mob, and a pile of combat meals gathering dust. One had been opened. Apparently the chief, quick to point out he was a growing boy, had done a bit of culinary exploring yesterday. Kris got a small coffeepot going, and soon found Jack at her elbow. Showered, shaved, and in undress green slacks, khaki shirt, and field scarf, he frowned at Kris's food choices.