Intrepid
Table of Contents
Praise for
Kris Longknife AUDACIOUS
“ ‘I’m a woman of very few words, but lots of action.’ So said Mae West, but it might just as well have been Lieutenant Kris Longknife, princess of the one hundred worlds of Wardhaven. Kris can kick, shoot, and punch her way out of any dangerous situation, and she can do it while wearing stilettos and a tight cocktail dress. She’s all business, with a Hells Angel handshake and a ‘get out of my face’ attitude. But her hair always looks good.
Audacious
maintains a crisp pace and lively banter. . . Kris Longknife is funny, and she entertains us.”
— Sci Fi Weekly
— Midwest Book Review
... and for the Kris Longknife novels
— Midwest Book Review
— The Weekly Press
(Philadelphia)
— Alternative Worlds
— Books ’n’ Bytes
— Romantic Times
Ace titles by Mike Shepherd
KRIS LONGKNIFE: MUTINEER
KRIS LONGKNIFE: DESERTER
KRIS LONGKNIFE: DEFIANT
KRIS LONGKNIFE: RESOLUTE
KRIS LONGKNIFE: AUDACIOUS
KRIS LONGKNIFE: INTREPID
THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
Published by the Penguin Group
Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA
Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada
(a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)
Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
Penguin Group Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.)
Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia
(a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.)
Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd., 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi—110 017, India
Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, North Shore 0632, New Zealand
(a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.)
Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196,
South Africa
Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
KRIS LONGKNIFE: INTREPID
An Ace Book / published by arrangement with the author
PRINTING HISTORY
Ace mass-market edition / November 2008
Copyright © 2008 by Mike Moscoe.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form
without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in
violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
eISBN : 978-1-440-60148-4
ACE
Ace Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
ACE and the “A” design are trademarks belonging to Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
1
Lieutenant Kris Longknife had been looking for a fight for most of the last week. Strange enough, not only had the pirates she was hunting been lying low, but no one in all of human space had offered her the chance to cross swords, cross lasers, cross fire, or even toss a few cross words their way.
This had to be a first.
Kris finished zipping up her shipsuit and turned on Abby, her personal maid. For once, even she was beating a hasty retreat to her own quarters next door to Kris’s.
Kris put an end to that. “We need to talk.”
Any talk with Abby inevitably entailed cross words, often crossed knives, and, occasionally, cross fire.
Abby stopped in her tracks and, without bending her rigid spine even a fraction of an inch, glanced over her shoulder. “I’ve never known you to have problems getting a word out. What’s been keeping you so quiet?”
“I’m not quiet,” Kris shot back in her defense, and realized just as quickly that Abby was, once again, counterattacking before Kris even got her own attack decently under way.
“All while I was dressing you, Your Lieutenantship, Highness, and Longknifehood, you were silent as a statue.”
Kris’s repost sounded weak even to her. “Lost in thought.”
“Well, when you find your way home, I’ll be next door helping Cara with her schoolwork.”
“She’s doing very well,” Nelly, Kris’s personal computer, chimed in from where she rode on Kris’s collar. The idea that Nelly, after her latest upgrades— worth a major chunk of the cost of the ship they were riding in— was spending a hunk of her capacity helping a twelve-year-old girl catch up on her school learning was not what Kris wanted to hear.
“Thank you, Nelly,” Abby said.
“No thank you, Nelly. That is what we need to talk about. A warship is no place to raise a twelve-year-old girl.”
“The
Wasp
is not a warship,” Abby said with a sniff.
“Yes it is,” Kris snapped right back, placing her hands on her hips. “The
Wasp
mounts twenty-four-inch pulse lasers and sports Smart Metal™ armor. And we are out here, past the rim of colonized space, trolling for pirates.”
“That is no never mind,” Abby said, her hands now on her hips. “I am the contracting rep. I initialed the contract and represent Wardhaven aboard the
Wasp
, and I know there is nothing in the contract of this merchant ship that makes it a warship.”
“We’ve got a rump company of Marines.”
“And a whole lot of scientists and their equipment on board. This ship is covered with shipping containers.”
“We’ve got to look like a merchant ship if we’re going to get a pirate to take a shot at us. Any smart pirate would just sail on by a warship,” Kris said, voice rising.
“There you go, talking like one of those Longknifes,” Abby snapped. “No wonder Admiral Crossenshield insisted I be his contract rep on the
Wasp
. And you better believe Captain Drago and half the crew breathed a sigh of relief when they found out you wouldn’t be in their direct chain of command.”
Kris started to point out that they were civilians, and whatever relationship they might have with a Navy lieutenant, it wouldn’t be hooked to any chain of command. Certainly not any chain of command that a normal, sane Navy might have.
But Kris heard the creak of the door opening between her cabin and Abby’s, and a dark-haired head with the hugest round eyes peeked in.
When Kris had first been introduced to Cara, she’d taken her for maybe eight, nine years old. The ship’s food had been kind to the girl, but she still didn’t look her full twelve years.
Except for those dark, limpid eyes. . . Eyes that had seen so much and lost so much more. Eyes so young should not have that much old in them.
“Are you arguing about me, Auntie Abby?”
“No, honeybunch. Aunt Abby has these little talks with the princess regularly.”
“You’re not going to lose your job, are you? We won’t have to leave the ship, will we?” Cara struggled to just say the words, but they trembled at the end.
“My Cara, you don’t have to worry about that. Not one bit. The princess here can’t fire me. Her momma hired me, and her momma’s gonna have to fire me.” Abby chuckled wickedly. “And this here princess wants to talk to her momma even less than you ever wanted to talk to Gamma Ganna.”
If it was possible for hugest eyes to get bigger. . . they did. “Really?”
“Really. Trust me. Now you run along back and do some more of your schoolwork with Nelly.”
“Nelly makes learning fun,” Cara said, and closed the door.
“I make learning fun,” Nelly said, with more glee than should ever exist in a computer’s voice. “Wow.”
Kris plopped down in her desk chair. It didn’t have quite the effect she wanted. The
Wasp
was under an economical merchant acceleration of .85 gees. She kind of floated into the chair. Abby crossed the room to sit on Kris’s narrow bed. Although Kris might be a major stockholder in Nuu Enterprises, the
Wasp
was a warship, and facilities were Spartan. Aboard the ship.
Now, the living conditions for the boffins were another thing. Professor mFumbo had taken it for granted that the containers were his to fill with scientific gadgets, quarters, separate recreation facilities for the fully tenured and the technical support. Same for the health club and spa.
Well, at least the Marines were making good use of the workout facilities. Good thing, with the ship doing a leisurely and muscle-weakening .85-gee cruise.
“Shall we finish this conversation. . . at a dull roar,” Abby said, her voice just above a whisper. “I take it that you are not happy with the setup here.”
“When Grampa Ray offered me the
Wasp
, it. . . it sounded like just what I’d dreamed of. A ship to explore the stars out beyond the rim of human space. A research team to study what we were looking at. A team of Marines and some twenty-four-inch pulse lasers in case we needed to do something about what we found. What more could a girl ask for?”
Abby chuckled dryly. “It might be nice if we were actually doing that.”
Kris tried to chuckle, but the sound came out more as a snort. “Who’d have thought that while Earth and the rest of humanity were arguing over spreading out or hiding from any aliens by staying home, some Rim rats would just take off and do it all by themselves!”
The
Wasp
’s third jump had been into a system with an unreported colony. That had quickly led to the discovery of three more and rumors of a dozen others!
“When do you think that the king or your papa is gonna answer your report?” Abby asked.
Kris just shook her head. Starting up a colony cost money. Lots of it. Someone was making a mountain of unsecured loans to finance these new outposts of humanity. Someone was sponsoring the explorations that found habitable planets. That left a big question of who. And why!
Questions neither King/Grampa Ray nor Kris’s father, the Prime Minister of Wardhaven, had answers for. And as if the “Sooners,” as they called themselves, weren’t enough of a problem, they’d attracted pirates.
Starting a year or two ago, about the time Earth and the Rim gave up on making a go of the Society of Humanity, the tramp merchant ships that made irregular calls among the Sooners started disappearing. Two in just the last three months.
As much as the Sooners did not want to see a uniformed naval officer from Wardhaven. . . and a Longknife to boot. . . they were almost happy to see the
Wasp
and hoped that someone with the authority of the law was finally taking an interest in them.
Kris fidgeted. It was nice finally to be appreciated by someone, even if it was the Sooners, who shouldn’t have been where they were. But it left her with a bunch of unhappy scientists whose exploration was on hold. And a crew waiting, waiting, waiting for the pirates to make their move.
“What’s eating you, woman?” Abby demanded.
“Nothing,” Kris insisted, then noticed that her right foot was tapping out a rapid tattoo. She froze it in place. Now her stomach wanted to spin.
“Don’t you go lying to me, boss. I’m Abby. I know you, baby ducks.” Her maid eyed Kris sideways. “You got your panties in a twist because those pirates won’t come out and play with you.”
“No,” Kris insisted.
“What’s it been, one, two months since someone took a potshot at you? Since you blew away some very deserving rats?”
“Something like that,” Kris admitted, lamely.
“Kris, I think you’re starting to enjoy all that fuss and feathers.”
Kris had been warned by those who should know, experienced cops, old Gunny Sergeants, that the rush could become as addictive as any drug. Was she hooked on being not quite killed? On doing the killing? She swallowed hard on the thought.
Abby shook her head. “Woman, get your head on straight. You got nothing to worry about on the
Wasp
. Don’t you think we can recognize those silly-ass games your great-grampa plays that he thinks will keep you safe? Yep, he made me COR, but when hell’s a popping, Captain Drago’s going to be looking your way for orders. ’Cause you’ll be there, at his elbow. And me? I’m gonna be under the bed holding Cara safe.”
That forced a laugh from Kris. Despite Abby’s constant claims to being a twice-baptized and very devout coward, Kris would more than likely be trailing Abby into the shoot-out.
“Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got to help a little girl catch up on a whole lot of schooling. I don’t know what they were doing in those Eden schools, but it wasn’t teaching.”
“Worse than when you were in those schools?” Kris asked.
Abby just snorted. “And you thank Nelly for me. She’s a real good teacher.”
I AM A REAL GOOD TEACHER, Nelly chortled in Kris’s head.
YES, YOU ARE A REAL GOOD TEACHER, Kris agreed.
AND YOU SHOULD CHILL OUT.
GO TEACH THE LITTLE GIRL. YOU ARE NOT MY SHRINK, Kris snapped. Maybe it was time to quit upgrading Nelly every time something new came along. It seemed that every new addition to Nelly, no matter what it was supposed to do, just gave her more of an attitude.
I HEARD THAT. AND IT’S ’TUDE. THAT IS WHAT CARA CALLS IT.
Oh Lord, now my computer has a real live teenage girl to show her the ropes. What have I done to myself?
Kris headed for the bridge. At least she’d get some respect there.
