Emissary Kris Longknife knew that she’d been appointed to an ancient Imperial Court. She also knew that the Iteeche Empire had colonized three or four timed as many planets as humanity had and that most of those planets were overpopulated, even by Old Earth’s decadent standards.
Still, what she saw even before she got to the Imperial planet put her in awe.
Even as they crossed the second system out from the Imperial system, traffic started getting heavy. Kris had the Princess Royal’s navigator run a calculation for when they’d reach the next jump point and then do the same for all the traffic in the system. The ship’s computer took a full five minutes to run the query. The navigator was shaking her head long before the computer finished displaying the answer.
“Admiral, I’ve never been in any system with this much traffic. The only time I’ve seen anything close was a fleet review off New Eden to celebrate the two hundred and fiftieth year since its first landing. That drew major contingents from all human space. We still didn’t have this many ships in the system and most of them were playing follow the leader behind their admiral’s flag. What we’ve got here is one whale of a lot of independent two-reactor ships that I’d take for merchants. Most are accelerating or decelerating at about .81 gees. There are a few squadrons of battlecruisers, but they’re tied up to a station orbiting the nearest planet to the next jump in.”
The nav board announced it had finished the calculation. “There are two ships that may arrive close to the time we will get there,” it said, highlighting two single ships.
“Do we need to slow down or speed up?” Kris asked.
“I’d suggest taking .02 gees off our planned burn, ma’am.”
“Comm, order the fleet to prepare to adjust the burn on my order,” Kris said
“Preliminary order given,” Comm answered smartly. “Admiral, I have a call coming in from the Iteeche flag.”
“Put it on screen.”
“Princess Kris Longknife,” Ron said, without preamble, “please cancel your course adjustment.”
“I will Ron, but can you tell me why?”
“Imperial warships always have the right-of-way over merchant ships. As a diplomat on an Imperial diplomatic mission, I have the right of way over any warships. I strongly suggest, as an Emissary from your King to His Worshipful Majesty’s Imperial court, that you take the right of way from me. Majesty must be served.”
“I certainly shall,” Kris said. “I assume you are asking me to send one of my ships through the next jump to test the situation.”
“Normally, I would recommend that you lead our ships through the jumps personally, however, what with circumstances and what you have already experienced, no doubt your King would insist on sending a squadron or two through the jump before he went himself.”
“I understand, Ron, and appreciate you helping me interpret the Imperial court etiquette that I will be living under for the next five years.”
“It is my honor and duty to do so,” Ron said, and clicked off.
“Admiral,” the navigator announced, “the two Iteeche merchant ships that we were watching have slowed their acceleration to .79 gees.”
Kris nodded at that bit of news. “Very good, Commander, let me know if there is any change in your board.”
“Aye, aye, ma’am.”
Kris took the elevator from the bridge up to her flag bridge, nodded encouragingly at the duty watch there, and retired to her day quarters. There she had Nelly make her a comfortable chair, fill the wall screens with schematics of the current and the next two star systems, and turn down the lights.
Kris slowed her breathing. That slowed her heart from the few extra beats it had put on as soon as her talk with Ron had alerted her that she was committing a diplomatic faux pas, then it slowed further. She still wasn’t all that good at meditating, but she accepted matters as a work in progress.
I’m not arrogant.
Of course, she was one of those damn Longknifes, but that didn’t mean she was arrogant. Her father couldn’t afford the votes he’d lose if his daughter started swinging her weight and arrogance around in public or the media.
Even Grandpa Al had had the good sense to take his arrogance and hide it on the top floor of his tower of insecurity.
I hate arrogant bastards.
So, how am I going to survive being ambassador to an Imperial Court where arrogance is a finely tuned social art and the meek are eaten alive?
Kris had already given certain things some thought. Or, more correctly, she’d been ordered. No groveling before the Emperor. No waiting for permission to stand in his presence.
There was no question about that, but what about those that accompanied her to court? She intended to have Jack with her. She’d likely want Jacques and maybe Amanda, as well.
Do I let them grovel?
They would not grovel before their King, and Kris was standing in for her grampa Ray.
Do I set a precedent that no human grovels to the Emperor when I’m present?
If she did, how did she assure that all the other humans got the message and didn’t try this at home where they might get their heads chopped off?
Were there other court officials that demanded groveling? Could she send some of her merchant princes in to do a bit of groveling before her visit to the Emperor?
Or would them groveling first create expectations that I will also grovel to the big dog himself?
Kris was reminded of her very first mission as a boot ensign. Chasing some kidnappers, she’d almost landed in a field spiked with land mines. Was she headed for ground that would make that afternoon look like a walk in the park?
Kris let her mind wander as her eyes took in the layout of the next two systems. She did her best to not let it snag on anything, just whirl free.
Slowly a thought began to form for her.
You’re going to have to be just as arrogant as the Emperor.
You can do this. It’s just another tool to add to your toolbox.
Kris had learned to be a lot of things to a lot of different people. She’d had a hell of a time as a boot ensign, learning how to be a good subordinate. Okay, a decent subordinate. Well, maybe an acceptable subordinate. She’d learned to follow orders . . . mostly. Sometimes.
Okay, but she had learned early and well to campaign for her father. To present a smiling face to everyone and not grumble when her schedule was changed forty-eleven times each day. She’d learned how to somehow get people to want to campaign for father, and even change the way they were doing it when they were more a drag than a help.
And she’d learned the Navy way. And even followed it. Usually.
She’d learned to command and to pull the best that people had out of them when they thought they’d given all they had.
Kris was especially proud of what she’d done in the Alwa system.
Those were the best years of my life.
So far.
Kris could learn to be just as arrogant as any Emperor born to it. And, better yet, Kris could learn to switch the arrogant off and on as the need occurred. She’d wear arrogant like a well-worn shoe when she needed to be arrogant at some Iteeche lord. Then she’d use persuasion to get what she needed from her advisors.
And, who knows, I might just find out that arrogant works just as well on some nose-stuck-in-the-air merchant prince as it does on Iteeche nabobs.
A decision arrived at, Kris sat up, had Nelly close down the screens and then asked if there was anyone important asking for her time. Nelly read down the list. Kris shook her head.
“Ruth and John are more important than all of those put together. Set up appointments for the afternoon. None longer than fifteen minutes, then stack them up in the waiting room off my day quarters and get me a couple of good Gunnies to serve as gate keepers.”
“Done, Kris.”
With a happy smile, Kris went to spend the rest of the morning and lunch with the most important people in her life.