Kris Longknife: Tenacious (Kris Longknife novellas Book 12) by Mike Shepherd Page A

center of the room, stretching over to the bar, was held down by a mash-up of U.S. personnel from Wardhaven, Lorna Do, Savannah, and Pitt’s Hope. The area directly closest to the bar had been taken over by New Eden and the arrivals from the Scanda Confederacy as they all got The Word.
    For a place with so many people in it, the Forward Lounge was neither hushed nor loud.
    Circulating among the officers were a decent-size detail of barmaids, enlisted women earning extra money seeing that dry whistles got wet. Mother MacCreedy must have allowed a new uniform; it seemed to Kris that the skirts were at least six centimeters shorter than before.
    Wonder how that’s helping with the tips, considering the swill they’re delivering?
    The Word must have been passed that the Forward Lounge was an off-duty area; no one called the room to attention as Kris entered. She made her way to the foremost table. Penny and Kitano were holding it down for her.
    As she settled into her seat, both young women grinned. “So it’s true,” Penny said. “You got another star.”
    “It’s true,” Kris admitted as she surveyed the room. “How long has this been going on?” she asked.
    “Just about everyone was here half an hour ago when I arrived,” Kitano said.
    “I got here an hour ago, and the place was just starting to fill up,” Penny supplied. “I figured I better be here to see how much it needed expanding and do it myself since we’re stretching the hull. I’ve had to grow the place twice. If any more come in, I’ll have to do it again.”
    A couple of dozen civilian merchant types showed up at the door and looked around, disappointed to find no room left for them. They were suitably amazed as Penny did her thing, and the room stretched farther away from the wall and another row of tables and chairs appeared as if out of nowhere.
    They took the newly available places and signaled for drinks. Kris watched as three barmaids took trays with already filled glasses to them and set them down before them. She kept watching as the men and women cautiously tried their drinks.
    One fellow spat his out and threw the full glass at the serving maid. She was a Marine and dodged expertly.
    “What’s this shit?” he shouted, as the house got very quiet.
    Kris stood up . . . the house silence got total.
    “That’s what we drink out here,” she said softly. Deadly soft to those who knew her.
    “I got better back on the
Mary Allen
,” he shouted back.
    “Not by this time tomorrow,” Kris said. “All spirits and food stuff brought into the system will be confiscated and added to the general issue. No one will starve, but we’ve got a critical food situation here. The best go to those who work the best. Those that don’t work don’t eat. If you want a good beer or whiskey, you’ll need to show that your ship is one of the best. If not, you’ll get by on what we’ve got plenty of, and what you’re drinking tonight is what the Alwans like. We’ve got plenty of it.”
    “No wonder,” the guy said, and spat again.
    “I didn’t plan to start this meeting this way,” Kris said, “but this is as good a place as any. If you don’t know, I am, as of a few minutes ago, Vice Admiral, Her Royal Highness, Kris Longknife, Viceroy to the Colonials on Alwa, Ambassador to the Alwa natives, CEO of Nuu Enterprises in System, and Commander, Alwa Defense Sector. No matter what your job is, you pretty much work for me.”
    She paused to let that sink in.
    “For those of you in uniform, this will be no surprise. Our orders are to hold here until relieved. So far, we’ve gotten reinforcements but no reliefs. For civilians, the same rules apply. We have no warships to escort you back to human space. We cannot allow you to sail unescorted. In addition to that, we need you here, working to improve the defenses of this system. As soon as you’re unloaded, we’ll respin your ships from multireactor starships into single-reactor system