Daring by Mike Shepherd Page A

to Kris’s table. She cast a worried glance over her shoulder toward Admiral Krätz but said nothing.
    The admiral was one of those with several empties in front of him. Kris was a bit surprised at that. Still, the man had a family. He was looking forward to grandkids. He had talked of retirement.
    What kind of enemy had they just stumbled into? How large a fleet and army could they muster? Kris’s mind still boggled at trying to answer those questions.
    â€œIs it as bad as it seems?” Vicky asked.
    Kris ran a worried hand through her hair. “I don’t know. Maybe we should turn around, run back to human space, pull in the welcome mat, and hide under the bed. Who knows how long it would be before whatever it is out here stumbles across us?”
    â€œThat is one option,” Ron said. In a fashion, the three of them were seated at Kris’s table. The two that Kris was familiar with took in the scene with some equilibrium. The Army fellow was showing red alarms around his residual gill slits. Occasionally, Ted would lean over and say something to him in Iteeche.
    Nelly told Kris that the Iteeche Navy officer was telling the Army officer that it was all right. Things would work out.
    It didn’t seem to be working for the Army guy. It sure wasn’t working for Kris.
    The urge to run away and hide under a bed was very attractive. The thirst to crawl into a bottle and forget the future had new allure.
    â€œYou damn Longknifes have murdered us all.” Like a bloody meat cleaver, that bellow cut through the noise of the room.
    Kris and Vicky swung around in their seats to face Admiral Krätz. He stood at his table, swaying like a drunken bear. He swept the table with one large hand; empties flew off in the lazy arc of half a gee. Some shattered as they hit the deck. Most just landed and rolled.
    The admiral pointed at Kris’s table. “You damn Peterwalds and double-damned Longknifes can’t mind your own business. What is it with you? You damn near got us wiped out with your bleeding Iteeches. Now you just had to go and find something bigger, meaner, badder.”
    For a long moment, the admiral just snarled at Kris and Vicky. Then a shudder went through him. “And my girls will never hold their babies. My grand little ones will never see the light of day.”
    A wracking sob escaped the admiral.
    Kris rose from her seat and took two steps toward the drunk officer. With a glance, she caught the attention of the Fury ’s captain.
    â€œCaptain, I think you need to take your admiral home.”
    The captain reached for the arm of his commander. Admiral Krätz shook him off.
    â€œDon’t you go giving my officers orders.”
    â€œThen you give them,” Kris snapped. “We’ve got problems enough. You’re not going to find any answers to them in the bottoms of those glasses. Go to your ship. Sleep it off. Tomorrow, we’ll put our sober heads together.”
    â€œCome, Admiral. Let’s go,” the captain said.
    The large contingent from the Greenfeld fleet made a hole for their admiral, then followed him out the door.
    â€œI’ve never seen him like that,” Vicky said, coming up to stand beside Kris.
    â€œHe likely has never had a night this bad,” Colonel Cortez said, joining them. “It is one thing to face battle against odds you can gauge, maneuvers you can counter. It’s something else entirely to face the unknown and know that you can’t protect those you love and hold dear.”
    The colonel paused for a moment. “I’m none too sure how I feel about all this.”
    â€œI don’t think any of us are,” Kris admitted. She caught the eye of the senior bartender. “Let’s close down for the night.”
    â€œLast call?” someone asked hopefully.
    â€œNo, honey. Drink up. We’re rolling up the floor,” the barkeep answered.
    Vicky hurried off to catch the last launch