Free Vicky Peterwald: Survivor (Vicky Peterwald Series Book 2) by Mike Shepherd Page B

together a Fleet of Discovery. She hadn’t actually commanded all of it, but she had admirals following her corvettes around in their mighty battleships like puppies after their mommy.
    Vicky was putting together a Fleet of Desperation. If she was lucky, she’d have maybe seven or nine worn-out and ill-crewed merchant ships.
    But unlike Kris Longknife, Vicky would know what she was heading into. She’d have spare parts and survival rations in place and not have to wait for her grandfather to dump some Hellburners in her lap.
    Interesting difference.
    Of course, Princess Kris Longknife had known how to buffalo admirals and get them stampeding in the direction she wanted.
    This Grand Duchess just hoped she could get these businessmen, intent on their own self-interest, to deliver enough stale biscuits to starving people on the verge of cannibalism.
    Vicky considered the comparison of missions between her and Kris Longknife and found it well balanced.
    Yes, Kris Longknife’s mission was a hell of a lot more than Vicky’s. But then, Vicky’s skills and experience were a hell of a lot less than Kris’s.
    Vicky shrugged. No doubt Kris had started out smaller, too. If Vicky had the time, she ought to reread Princess Longknife’s file with an eye toward her younger years.
    Then again, Vicky was too busy learning and doing to waste time reading files that usually missed the main point anyway.
    The meeting ended with no further surprises. Vicky’s fleet had grown by three ships. That had to be good.

CHAPTER 19
    “W HERE do you plan to get money for three more ships?” the station manager exploded when Vicky had him called into Admiral van Mittleburg’s office to discuss the latest changes on what was actually being called the Fleet of Desperation.
    Take that, Kris Longknife,
Vicky thought with a smile.
    “You’ve got the ships trailing the station,” Vicky pointed out. “Certainly the crews are around here someplace.”
    “Not on your life. Do you think I wanted a lot of out-of-work sailors lying around my station? No way. I shipped them dirtside as fast as I could. They’re gone. They aren’t available.”
    “And the eight crews we do have?” Vicky asked.
    “I found odd jobs for the best of them. Got rid of some of my less-than-satisfactory station workers. I can’t say that I’m glad to have them shipping out on your ships, but they’re here for you.”
    The admiral glanced at Vicky and grinned.
    “And where will you get replacements for the hands that ship out?” Vicky asked.
    The admiral nodded, and if anything, his grin got bigger.
    “I’ll put some feelers out dirtside. Feelers, mind you. Idon’t want every dog-eyes swabbie hitching rides up here on every empty seat a shuttle has to offer.”
    “If you won’t announce the extra crew slots,” Vicky countered, “I will. Or you can give me the name of a couple of good skippers, and I’ll have them put together the crews we need.”
    The station manager scowled at Vicky. No doubt, he was getting kickbacks from those he’d given jobs. If she took over hiring, he’d be out of that revenue stream.
    The station manager gave her “that look.” It was a good thing she had plenty of experience being the little girl in the room. The room with Daddy. The room with Hank. Hell, just about any room in the palace.
    Strange, I haven’t seen that look since I joined the Navy. At least not to my face.
    “Little lady, you let me handle the ships, and you can go look pretty,” the station manager actually said.
    “You are talking to your Imperial Grand Duchess,” the admiral growled.
    “Let me handle this, sir,” Vicky said, and stood to look down on the station chief.
    “Captain,” she said, giving the station chief his highest honorary claim. “You will need Navy reaction mass to get these ships away from the station. You will, no doubt, need some assistance from the Navy ship maintainers available here. They are very busy, but I’m sure I can get