''No one ever died from field rations,'' Kris reminded him, less he invoke some security regulation to leave her famished.
''Yes, but no one ever called them food, either,'' he said, filling a coffee mug from Kris's first handiwork. ''Hmm, Your Highness, you can boil water.''
''Suborn crews, steal armed vessels, and boil water. Not a bad résumé.''
''Between just us, just how long will you keep this up?''
An honest question deserved an honest answer. She decided the scrambled eggs could warm without her attention, took her own mug, and settled across the table from her Security Chief. Keeping a table between them was getting to be a habit. At the moment, if Jack decided to throw her over his shoulder and carry her off to someplace safe… there really wasn't anyplace safe to go. Still, it was a good habit, and Kris maintained it.
''I don't know, Jack. Believe it or not, yesterday took me by surprise.''
Jack nodded. ''So you were making it up as you went along.''
''Who'd have thought…'' But Kris stopped herself before she rehashed their yesterday. Today looked to be a bigger problem… and they were going to have to face it.
Jack seemed to be doing a good job of mind reading. Or maybe he'd been around her enough to know her usual pattern of problem solving. ''So, what do we do today?''
''Eat first, I hope,'' Chief Beni said from the door. He hadn't shaved and was still in a worn sweat suit proclaiming Go Navy. ''If you can call that eating. Remember, Your Princess-ness, I joined the Navy cause they ate better.'' He scowled at the meal warming. ''So why are we eating grunt food?''
''Cause it's all that's available,'' Kris pointed out.
Beni drew his own cup of coffee, and sat down. ''This station has twelve different restaurants. Everything from New Chicago Pizza to Retro Cantonese.''
''All closed,'' Jack reminded him.
''Yeah. How do we fix that?'' Kris asked.
''If you feed them, they will come?'' the chief asked.
''More like if we have work for them, they will come, and then they have to eat,'' Jack corrected.
''So why ain't there nobody working here?''
''If I knew the answer to that,'' Kris said, getting up when Nelly suggested her eggs might be done. ''I'd be a whole lot happier commander.'' They ate, dumped the leavings in a trash bin that would need emptying soon, and were no closer to a solution to their problem.
''Well,'' Kris finally said, ''if there's no one here to answer our questions, I say we go where someone is. Three hundred klicks down there's plenty of folks. Must be someone willing to talk to us. Tell us the local score.''
''There's a bit of a problem, boss,'' the chief said.
''There's a shuttle. Nelly checked before I marooned us here.''
''Yes, ma'am, there's a shuttle for us, maybe a dozen.''
''We've got reaction mass,'' Jack said.
''Yes, sir. St. Pete quit fueling when they got a look at the price. Said they'd fill up at Lorna Do.''
''So.''
''There's just enough antimatter in the shuttle's motor to boil the reaction mass we need to land.'' The chief grinned. ''Unless we can fill up dirtside, if we go down, we stay down.''
Kris took a moment to absorb that before turning to Jack. ''I really want to meet this Lieutenant Steve Kovar. I have got to thank him for the wonderful condition of the command he's turned over to me.''
Chapter 2
An hour later, they boarded a small Boeing shuttle. It was in standby mode drawing from the station's power to keep juice flowing to the antimatter containment pod. Kris had just enough power to break out of orbit and glide to the port outside Last Chance. She set those coordinates into the nav computer and let herself grin. ''Landing this will be no strain.''
''Assuming we don't run into traffic on the way down,'' Jack said, slipping into the copilot's seat and bringing up a report on traffic into and out of Last Chance.
''Looks like they're coming up on a solid hour of no business,'' Kris said.
''Assuming there's no one else dropping in unannounced,'' Beni said, standing between the two of them. ''My old man would whap me horrid if I flew into some place with no flight plan.''
''Yes,'' Kris agreed, ''but where's the fun of telling them we're coming. They might bake a cake.''
''Order out the antiaircraft defenses,'' Jack muttered. ''You're really going to surprise them?''
Kris knew the rules, but she was tired of being on the receiving end of all the surprises this trip. If there was going to be another, she would do it. Besides, with all her skiff racing, no question she could put this puppy down just fine. A glance at Last Chance's airport showed plenty of fields around it. Kris measured the risk she was taking, found it low enough for her, if not for Jack, and checked the rest of her board. Everything showed green. ''Strap in, Chief, we're headed down.''
''Is it too late for me to get out and walk?''
''It was already too late when you said, yes, you'd work for this woman,'' Jack said, cinching his seat belt in tight.
Fifteen minutes later, Kris had the shuttle on final approach. No one at the port had called her, but she decided she'd better check in. ''Last Chance Space, this is Navy shuttle 41, I'm on final approach for a dead-stick landing on runway 090. Is there any traffic I should be aware of?''
''Navy shuttle 41, you got power for a go around?''
''Negative on that.''
''Then I guess we better not have any traffic in your way. You're lucky we're in an after lunch slump in business. Give me a minute while I redirect a freighter.''
''Thank you, Last Chance Space.''
Exactly one minute later, the tower came back on, and gave Kris wind, temperature, and barometric pressures.
''Ah, that's not what your automatic station is broadcasting,'' Kris said, adjusting her instruments.
''Everyone local knows that station is off, and makes their own adjustments. You being Navy, I figured you might not know.''
Beside Kris, Jack studied the heavens as if they might hold some hidden wisdom. What Beni was muttering wasn't fit for a princess's ears. But an experienced Navy princess found it rather mild compared to what she wanted to say.
''Thank you for the update. We're two minutes out.''
''We'll get a tow for you. Have your credit card handy.''
Now Kris did say a very unprincess-like word.
She set the shuttle down smoothly; the brakes were uneven, but they slowed to a stop just past a bright yellow tug. Halted, Kris opened the window and waved the tug in. It came, but stopped in front of the shuttle and did nothing. Kris waited for a minute to be hooked up to power and a tow. Then another minute. Outside, nothing happened.
''Ah, I think they're waiting to be paid,'' Beni stuttered.
Kris snapped off her seat belt and headed for the hatch, aft. Jack followed, whether concerned for her safety… or the tug crew… he didn't say. Kicking the hatch open almost made Kris feel better. She quick marched into a dazzling sunny afternoon. The two fellows lounging in the tug's front seat seemed to be enjoying it. ''You planning on parking me right here in the middle of the runway?'' she demanded.
The younger of the two, a long, tall drink of water with an unruly shock of blue hair and sporting worn coveralls, looked about ready to run. The other fellow, bald, scruffy white beard, and more substantial if not downright round, held on to the steering wheel of his tug and fired right back. ''We don't move you until we run your credit card. Navy credit's no good. Operations Chief says she's got enough unpaid chits from the Navy.''