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they took,” Kris pointed out.
    “Someone needs to answer us some questions,” Jack said.
    But all questions were met with sullen silence. Even the reactor snipes suddenly took to studying their fingernails.
    No one objected when Gunny suggested that, what with them in zero gee, and none of the prisoners able to exercise, maybe they’d all be a lot safer if they were cuffed to their bunks. And when ex-pirates suddenly turned space lawyers demanded their rights, Marines overruled then with a few quick butt strokes.
    “We need to get this show moving,” Kris concluded.
    With the Compton ’s bridge unable to command anything, the techs went looking for a backup. As expected, the first spine compartment forward of amidships had plug-ins for an emergency bridge, but like most merchants, it had no stations. There should have been a few in the spares locker, but, to no one’s surprise, there were none. Six were salvaged from the 4.7-inch lasers and reprogrammed as needed. Three more were brought over from the Wasp ’s spares locker.
    In a week, with a mixed crew from the Wasp and former hostages, both ships were ready to get under way.
    And the time hadn’t been a total waste.
    Professor mFumbo’s techs hadn’t launched their probe given all the excitement over the Compton Maru ’s arrival. Once things calmed down, they modified it for high acceleration and sent it off at two gees.
    It ducked through to the next system and reported back six hours later that there were two old jump points in that system and three fuzzy ones. And two planets in the inhabitable zone.
    Kris had to quell a budding mutiny among the scientists. “We will get back here,” she assured them.

6
    A week later, the Wasp led the Compton toward the space station above Cuzco. “The stationmaster regrets that he only has two docks unoccupied,” Captain Drago reported. “One can offload containers. I told him to put the Compton in it. That leaves us with only one place to go.”
    “Is there a problem?” Kris asked, knowing from the way Drago was drawing this out that she was asking a needless question.
    “We’ll be across the way from a Greenfeld light cruiser.”
    “They’ve got a Greenfeld cruiser in port.” Jack grinned. “I hope we’re not interrupting anything,” did not sound at all like the Marine meant it.
    “What ship?” Kris asked.
    “The light cruiser Surprise ,” Drago said, with his own tight smile at the appropriateness of the name.
    “Does Georg Krätz still command her?” Kris asked.
    Sulwan looked up from her board. “Harbormaster’s records say he does.”
    “Good, I’ve had several fine dances with the man,” Kris said, beaming. “He’s the father of several girls, all interested in naval careers, just like their father. I suggested that he and they would have far more successful careers in the Wardhaven Navy than they could ever hope to have in anything controlled by Greenfeld. I’m looking forward to continuing our conversations.”
    Jack rolled his eyes.
    Kris sniffed. “If you Marines can think of war as a continuation of politics by other means, why can’t a princess continue politics by socializing?”
    Next day, Kris got her chance to socialize or politic or maybe fight a very small war.
    A handsome— one might say dashing— young Greenfeld lieutenant approached the Wasp ’s quarterdeck, offered his captain’s compliments, and asked if his captain might have the pleasure of Princess Kristine Longknife’s company at dinner that night.
    Kris would have turned down an invitation to the Surprise ’s wardroom as too risky, but Krätz was wise enough to choose the most expensive. . . and neutral. . . restaurant on the space station. After only a minor argument with Jack, Kris sent her acceptance down to the JOOD, and the deal was done.
    “I’m going with you,” Jack muttered.
    “I expected you to. Jack, you dance as well as he does.”
    Kris politely did not hear Jack’s answer to