Free Rebel by Mike Shepherd Page A

said.
    “A greenhorn ain’t no good on a working ranch,” the other spat. “They’re more trouble than they’re worth.”
    “Well, Slim, I got land I could open up if I had some cowpunchers and plowboys. If you don’t want any of them, I’ll take your share.”
    “Who said I didn’t want ’em? I got land to open up, too.”
    “Gentlemen,” Mannie said, “the Empress’s foul deeds canopen up many opportunities for us. I think we’re up to them. Still, the only thing that she seems willing to drop in our lap is a bunch of thugs to take us down. If we’re to have something to face her next move, we need our own reserve fleet.”
    “Okay, tell me this,” came from the banker. “How come we need all these extra ships? That nasty battleship the Grand Duchess has was good enough to handle things. Why can’t it stay parked in orbit while we lay up these other ships? Yes, I see that we don’t want them laid off where they can be turned against us, but why do we need them all crewed and fixed up?”
    Mannie glanced at Vicky.
    “As I mentioned,” Vicky said, “I’m headed for Brunswick with a convoy of freighters to open trade with them. The last time I rode a cruiser, it got shot up bad. My Navy superiors want me in something a bit more powerful. They still haven’t fixed the last ship that I got busted up.”
    Vicky’s offhanded delivery of that line drew a chuckle from many.
    “Anyway, when I leave for Brunswick, the Retribution goes with me. Possibly, I’ll also take one of the battlecruisers as well as a couple of cruisers. There’s also a convoy leaving for Metzburg. It will need an escort, too.”
    “Can’t any of those other planets pay for some ships?” came from the banker.
    “No doubt, I will broach that topic with Brunswick. It is quite possible that they will want to keep a couple of ships in their system for their own protection.” Vicky grinned at Mannie. “I see no reason why St. Petersburg should be the only planet with its very own division in the reserve fleet.”
    Now the debate began in earnest, with a lot of people talking and few listening. At first, this experience in participatory decision making was a bit frightening to Vicky. Mannie kept a restraining hand on her arm. Anytime she started to open her mouth, the pressure would grow.
    For a reason she was never quite sure of, she let him keep her quiet.
    No, he kept her listening. Slowly, through the din of so much talk, she began to make out the thread of where the talk was leading. There were a few wanting to debate whether ornot to accept the ships. However, most of the talk now was how to manage a fleet, to feed it, pay for its upkeep, and spread its costs to other planets.
    Since this was what Vicky really wanted to hear, she found it easier to listen. After a while, Mannie took his hand off her arm and gave her a smile.
    It was a nice smile. She’d have to see about getting more smiles like that from him.

CHAPTER 11
 
    T HE meeting broke for lunch when stomachs began to rumble louder than the babble. Everyone adjourned to a restaurant across the street that had a back room reserved for them. It was simple fare of various sausages served with a variety of potato salads and sauerkraut. The beer was excellent, but Vicky hardly touched it.
    Or her food.
    Her table had six chairs. One each for her and Mannie, the commander and Mr. Smith. A succession of people dropped into the two empty chairs and asked Vicky a lot of questions, starting with how the invasion had been stopped. She and Mannie told it as humorously as possible without making too light of how badly it could have gone.
    The next-most-frequent question was when she’d be leaving for Brunswick and what she’d be taking. Vicky was not about to give away operational details but left it at the Retribution and maybe a few cruisers.
    “Any chance Brunswick will chip in for operations and maintenance of those ships?” came on the heels of that answer.
    “We’re