“Corporal Jin, two black coffees.” The dimpled soldier nodded and closed the door as she left.
“You keeping the prettiest for yourself, old man?” Trouble asked.
“I got to put up with a gang of ugly ones.”
“Like that colonel I damn near slugged out there?”
“Colonel Denton is a very good public-relations expert, or so I am assured.”
“I didn’t notice any combat ribbons on his chest.”
“Trouble, there aren’t a lot of folks with combat ribbons to show for their twenty or thirty years. It’s been kind of peaceful for a spell.”
“That may be changing,” Trouble said.
Dimples returned with two coffees that were actually coffee, not froth, and tasted quite good. Trouble told her.
“The field marshal got the office a real coffeepot last Christmas. So long as I clean it every morning, it makes good coffee. Since I also get to drink it, it’s a joy to clean.”
“Practical soldier,” Trouble said, a grin coming out to play. “Now, if you can find a dirty, oily old pot boiler, why don’t you draw a cup for my friend the colonel back there?”
“Sorry, General,” the corporal said, dimples on full parade. “Prune face only drinks the fancy stuff. All froth and foam and sugar.”
“Now, Jin,” the field marshal said.
“Yes, sir, Field Marshal, sir, I’ll clean up my act immediately, but the general met the colonel, and the general doesn’t look like the type to call a fucking spade a shovel, sir.”
And with that, she conducted a very orderly withdrawal. Certainly, not a retreat.
“That young woman,” the field marshal said, shaking his head.
“Well, if you have no use for her, I’m sure my Kris could put her to good use in a fight. It seems to me that a woman like her is wasted on a bunch of toy soldiers like you got here.”
“No doubt, but her dad and mom served under me years ago, and they personally asked me to sit on her request to transfer to Kris’s Marine detachment. I sat on the request just long enough to see the rear jets of the fleet headed out.”
“Mac, the day may be coming that we need to let gals like her get their war paint on.”
The field marshal’s eyes took on a faraway look. Then he shook himself. “You may be right.”
“You heard anything?”
“Nothing more than when you left last night. We’re all just guessing.”
“Us. The media. All looking for a good crystal ball, and none to be had,” Trouble said, and allowed himself a worried sigh as he enjoyed another sip.
The field marshal eyed Trouble. “So you just had to go out there and give them a few more crumbs.”
Trouble scowled. “Guilty as charged. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“I’ve heard that a time or ninety from your great-granddaughter.”
“You’ve heard it a couple thousand times from me and Ray,” Trouble shot back. “They were getting their panties all in a twist about some war with Greenfeld. I could see nothing served by them blabbing on about that, so I gave them the crumb that Vicky Peterwald was back. That should take a load off her dad.”
“Yeah, but what will it do for her stepmother?”
“Ouch. I forgot there was supposed to be bad blood between them.”
“I had my computer do a search of the classified files after I escaped from Crossie last night. There were four reported bombings, including one on the Wasp, that likely were aimed at Vicky.”
“And I thought Kris was the only one who had to dodge assassins.”
“It may be that Vicky’s dad has given up on Kris, seeing how she saved his life and added a planet to his train wreck, but Vicky’s stepmom is another kettle of rotten fish.”
Mac paused for a moment, “And you’ve now told stepmommy where her beloved kid and target is.”
“Damn. You think that’s a problem?”
“It’s not likely to stay our problem for long. There are a dozen Imperial battlecruisers wandering around from star system to star system, showing the flag, and getting in position to make a pickup of any Greenfeld survivors that make it back to human space.”
“I hadn’t heard about them.”
“We kept it out of the normal intel feed. A pair of battlecruisers isn’t likely to be a problem. Not with the mess they’ve got back home. Still, I checked. A battlecruiser division was visiting New Bern last week. Five will get you ten they’re on their way to Chance as we speak.”
“To pick up their Grand Duchess?”
“Or any other survivors that follow Kris home.”
“But we don’t know that any others have,” Trouble said.
“No, we don’t. Still, I’ve got a lot of stuff flowing toward Chance. Including a lot of high-priority questions. Ray even canceled the orders for a fast courier ship and had it redirected to Chance. I ordered a heavy cruiser squadron to cancel its training exercise and boost at two gees for the same place.”
“You think there could be a fight?” Trouble said, sipping thoughtfully at his now-cooling coffee.
“You didn’t hear this from me, okay, but we’ve got an early report that someone in the new government at Bern is trying to bring Kris up on charges for crimes against humanity.”
Trouble almost dropped his coffee. “Crimes against humanity! What does that even mean?”
“Damned if I know, old horse. There was a big tempest in a teapot in the Helvitican Confederacy when the Fleet of Discovery suddenly became a battle fleet. There were other problems with the party in power. A sex scandal, maybe other stuff. Anyway, them that was in power got voted out and them that was out are now in. Nobody is quite sure what provided the margin for the victory, but the new boys are busy shoring up anything that looks like it might get them a vote or three in the next election. Which may not be too far off.”
Mac paused to sip his own coffee before adding.
“And there are still a lot of folks that think Ray Longknife was personally responsible for the Iteeche War. A war we almost lost big-time.”
“That’s absurd,” Trouble exploded.
“To you and a lot of the rest who were out there on the line, yes, General. But my grandmom was one of those manning the barricade and demanding we get the Iteeche into negotiations.”