on the economic wool that’s being pulled over his eyes?”
Vicky snorted. “He didn’t. He didn’t believe me. Didn’t want to do anything about it. Didn’t want to hear another word about it. If you ask me, between my stepmom’s not liking the sight of me and Dad’s not wanting to hear about the way he’s being snookered on the economy, he’s glad to be rid of me.”
Kris shook her head. As much as she wanted to hear more about this, she said, “You’ll have to bring me up to date on all the gossip later.”
“You girls do that on your own time,” Admiral Krätz said, “but I have some official business to perform.” He pulled a flat box from his pocket.
The form of the box was familiar. They usually held a military decoration of some level, but Kris was more than surprised when he flipped the lid up.
A blue Maltese cross was surrounded by golden eagles. Kris would have mistaken it for finely crafted jewelry except for the words written on the decoration.
Pour le Mérite
“Dad, being emperor and all, decided he should start doing emperor stuff, like having a greatest and highest award. The Order of Merit. Or Mé-rite as he insists it be pronounced. Anyway, you’re the first to get it. That oak leaf at the top, that’s for valor. Only people who earn it in combat get the oak-leaf version.”
“What am I getting this for?” Kris asked. “Is there a citation to go with that?”
“Everyone else got a citation on parchment suitable for framing,” Vicky said. “Somehow you got skipped. You can decide whether it’s for surviving the admiral here lasing you from orbit on Port Royal, or liberating Kaskatos from our rogue state-security nut, or for saving Dad’s neck on Birridas. Your call.”
“Ah, no citation to read at my award ceremony, huh?”
“Award ceremony? What award ceremony?” the admiral said, looking around blandly. “You’ve got the medal. You can explain it the same way you do that Order of the Wounded Lion.”
“I don’t explain it,” Kris said sourly.
“Just so.”
Kris pocketed the award; one more thing to add to her growing collection of stuff she rarely wore because of the problem of explaining it all. It was time to get down to business.
“Admirals Channing and Kōta are already waiting in the Forward Lounge with their command teams. I see you brought yours.” Kris eyed the large collection of Greenfeld Navy and Marine officers who followed behind Vicky and the admiral as they went through the ceremony of crossing the Wasp’s quarterdeck.
Most looked familiar.
“You bringing everyone who was with you at Port Royal?” Kris asked.
“In truth, we have orders to make ourselves scarce,” the admiral said. “After the slaughter at Port Royal, there was never any doubt my battle squadron was to be exiled with you. While the Greenfeld Navy, er, I mean Imperial Navy is happy to have Port Royal as a Navy colony, no one wants me running into any stockholders of N. S. Holding Group. The only question was whether or not the young grand duchess here got to come along for the ride.”
“Dad took some persuading.”
“I can imagine. Grampa Ray is making noises like he doesn’t want me doing this either.”
“I thought your gramps considered you so totally expendable,” Vicky said.
“I sure did,” Kris agreed.
“One would think so after perusing your file,” the admiral said.
“Grampa Ray had me to dinner last night,” Kris said. “He spent half the meal trying to convince me that my different assignments had been intended for my development.”
“Development!” Vicky said. “Did he read the same file I did?”
“Selfsame,” Kris said. “The other half of the meal he tried to talk me out of leading this scouting mission.”
“Did he?” the admiral asked.
“Not bleeding likely,” Kris said.
They reached the Forward Lounge. A Marine guard held the door open for them, then closed it behind them.
“You’re keeping this meeting quite secure,” the admiral observed.
“Yes,” Kris said. “I didn’t invite Crossie. There will be no leaks from my meeting.”
“Did King Raymond’s Chief of Intelligence admit to being the source of the leaks?” the admiral asked.
“Yes, and no, and maybe. The man is pathologically incapable of telling the truth. At least Grampa Ray is no longer holding me responsible for the leaks.”
No one announced “Attention on Deck” when Admiral Krätz entered. The Forward Lounge already had two other admirals present. Adding complications to the etiquette challenge were the princess and grand duchess. A consensus had apparently formed that the Forward Lounge was a private restaurant, owned