The trip across the system to the jump into the Imperial system was challenging for the navigator and bridge crew as they struggled to keep station. One of the fortresses guarding the Emperor’s jump had the job of traffic control. Kris’s ships were given an allotted time to make the jump. Every ship was expected to go through at 2.32 second intervals and at a steady speed of five hundred and twelve klicks per hour.
Apparently, the Iteeche did things by the Imperial planet’s day and measurements.
Kris assigned the flags the duty of keeping their task force and squadron’s ships on the dime and tucked in tight. For the merchant skippers, her words were simple. “Miss your allotted time and you will be required to go around and wait for a break in the traffic to get another chance. I’m told those come along every couple of weeks. And don’t even think about jumping through after you’re waved off. We’ve got our time assigned to us. There will be oncoming traffic right ahead of us and right behind us. Get out of line and you’ll likely end up a splat on the bow of some huge Iteeche ship.”
There was grumbling on the merchant comm channels, but not a lot. Not after the first bit of grousing was greeted with “Don’t you dare muck it up for the rest of us,” from one of Grampa Al’s skippers, echoed by most of the other captains.
As Kris’s escort sailed its meticulous way to the jump, her sensor teams sucked in everything they could get their antennas on and turned it over for analysis.
“Kris, every ship in this system has a squawker, identifying its name, owner and planet of origin,” Sensors reported. “Most have added the last planet visited and where they’re headed. Apparently, there are nine destinations in the next system, only one of which is the Imperial Presence. The other names mean nothing to Nelly’s dictionary. I can’t tell if they’re planets, moons, habitats, or stations, but there are a whole lot of ships headed for every one of them.”
“Any military traffic?” Jack asked. “Does it show a single destination?”
“There are a couple of dozen battlecruisers, none in a bigger formation than a division of four. None of them are squawking a destination. There are several huge honking spheres in the traditional Iteeche fashion powered by a dozen reactors or more. The biggest has eighteen reactors in six pods around the ball. I can get very little off of it. Believe it or not, that thing is actually jamming everyone. It and the other big balls seem to have right of way over everyone. They’re accelerating and decelerating at 1.21 gees for a faster trip.”
“Do they have right of way over us?” Kris asked.
“I don’t know, Admiral. None of them are due at the jump anytime close to us.”
“Track them. I want to know when they go through. Once we’re on the other side, I want to know how they’re treated.”
“Aye, aye, ma’am.”
Jack raised two questioning eyebrows at Kris.
“I want to know how the local head high muckety mucks behave in the Imperial system. Then I’m going to do exactly what they do.”
“Any chance I can talk you into discussing it with Ron? I mean, before you get us all a meeting with the Imperial headsman.”
“I think it’s an Imperial poisoner, but I agree with you, whomever it is. Comm, get me the Iteeche flag.”
A moment later, Kris was face to face with Ron again.
“How’s it feel to be getting this close again to your Emperor?”
“I think you would call it claustrophobic. It is so nice to visit among you humans. You are so informal. Few Iteeche with whom I have spoken about you, could understand how you could do things the way you do. A few even think you are wild savages, out of control. But you did not call me to talk about all that. What can I do for you?”
“We’ve identified some really huge puff ball ships. One has something like eighteen reactors in six pods. Should I know anything about them?”
“Oh, yes you should. Steer clear of them if you can. Those are both battleships and what you would call Imperial yachts.”
“How many yachts does your Emperor use?” Kris asked.
“His worshipfulness? None, of course. He doesn’t go anywhere. Everyone comes to him.”
Kris allowed herself a puzzled frown. “So, what are these ships?”
“The largest one is likely being used by an Imperial Master of a Satrap. All ships are by right the ship of the Emperor, but the Imperial Master of a Satrap, or a district of planets, is authorized to build himself a battleship of state. Our name for them is more like your Greek warship. We had three reactors each in six pods, a tri-hexareme. Even though your battlecruisers are better fighting ships, many Imperial Masters still like the old ways and even now build bi-hexaremes. Many of the greater lords lavish money trying to have the most opulent tri-hexareme.”
“We’ll have to show people how fancy a battlecruiser can be decked out.”
“Yes, I heard that you’ve done some pretty luxurious things with your Princess Royal. Will we be seeing anything like that?”
“Once we reach the station above the Imperial Palace, I assure you, we’ll lay it on as thick as we can.”
“I’m looking forward to it. Have I answered your questions, Your Highness?”
“Yes, thank you, as always, Ron. Or should I start calling you by your full name?”
“When you have Nelly translating matters into Iteeche, please have her use my full name. I am Ron’sum’Pin’sum’We qu Chap’sum’We, if you will, Nelly.”
“Of course, Speaker for His Worshipfulness,” Nelly said.
“May I suggest that Nelly introduce you, Kris, as Her Highness, Princess Kristine of the United Society, Chosen Royal Battle Fleet Commander of the mighty war clan Longknife who comes as Emissary and Speaker for Humanity.”
“Wow, that’s quite a mouthful,” Jack put in.
“Yes, but it is a mouthful that explains her to all who hear. Among my people, it is important to make a first impression.”
Kris parsed the words. Most of them she could fit into comfortable. Princess, okay, I’m over that. “Royal Battle Commander” fits into King Ray’s comments that I’m the fightingest admiral he has. Chosen, however, may be more than I’m hearing. Longknife, okay, been there, done that. I’m proudly one of those damn Longknifes. It was the last that stuck her as a sour note. “Emissary and Speaker for Humanity.” Emissary, yes, I got that loud and clear from King Ray. “Speaker for All Humanity?” Where did that come from?
Kris shook her head. Had anyone on old Earth sent her papers to talk for them? Hell, most of humanity was splintered into a couple of dozen or more associations, confederacies, Empires and what not. How many of them had said she could speak for them? Hell, she’d gotten in all sorts of trouble when she protected Alwa the first time and every fourth planet accused her of starting a war without permission.
What kind of ninth pit of hell did that crawl out of? Better yet, how did she bonk it over the head and get it to crawl back where it came from?
NELLY, HAS RON CUT THE COMM BETWEEN US?
YES, KRIS.
“Jack, Nelly, get Amanda and Jacques to report to my day quarters immediately. I don’t like this hot potato one bit. I need a potato masher and I need one quick.”