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say you’re the one who called us?”
    “Yes,” Ky said.
    “When? Why?”
    “Because of the attack,” Ky said. “I had seen them kill my bodyguard and the clerk, and then—”
    “Them? How many?”
    “Three on the inside,” Ky said. “I was over there in the combooth—” She gestured with her chin. “—when they came in. My bodyguard and the clerk were at the reception desk, chatting. The assassins shot them both, then two went upstairs. Looking for me, probably. The other was searching the guard’s body.” She stopped for a moment to get her thoughts in order.
    “Go on.”
    “I couldn’t use the combooth because the light would come on and they’d know where I was.”
    “Why do you think they were after you? You, particularly?”
    “I don’t know,” Ky said. “My engineer had just called to let me know that the fake cargo container put on my ship was explosive. Your colleagues up on the station can tell you more about that.” Should she even mention the call to Vatta headquarters, the lost connection? Yes. “I had called my company headquarters,” Ky said. “Apparently some group is targeting Vatta Transport. They were about to put out a warning. Then the connection failed, so I don’t know any more than that. Anyway, I couldn’t use the combooth, and I couldn’t see how to get out without him seeing me.”
    “Why didn’t you use your implant?” the man asked.
    “I don’t have one,” Ky said. “Head injury—they had to take it out and it can’t be replaced for six standard months.”
    “Ah. So… you tried to escape and—you’re asking me to believe a trained assassin couldn’t hit you?”
    “No. I thought if I rushed him I could knock him out, maybe.” The policeman looked at her with obvious disbelief. “It could work,” Ky said. “And I didn’t have a weapon.”
    “Did it work?”
    “No. I surprised him, but he was wearing body armor under his mask. He threw me off, I landed near the guard’s weapon, and snatched it—and got off a shot before he did.”
    “Hmmm.” He looked thoughtful.
    “Shem, these wounds were made by different weapons,” said one of the others. “The guard and the clerk were both hit with Staysil rounds, and so were the cook and the helper in back; the masked one with a Conroy.”
    “Staysil rounds. Sounds like the Edmunds crew,” the policeman said. He looked at Ky and shook his head. “Someone wants you dead very badly, if they’re after you. Edmunds and company are not just trouble, but expensive trouble.” He sighed heavily, and reached over to release Ky’s arms. “Don’t try to run. We did not need this. Diplomatic mess, too. You’ll want to see the Slotter Key consul, no doubt. And I don’t suppose you know why anyone would be after Vatta captains?”
    “No,” Ky said, rubbing her wrists. She glanced at the painful hand. Swollen and darkening. She hoped she hadn’t broken a bone. “I don’t. I need to get back to my ship—”
    “Not yet,” he said. “You did, after all, kill that man.” He cocked his head toward the outer door. “He may be a criminal, and he may have tried to kill you, but we have to determine whether, under our laws, this excuses your killing him. You can count on at least overnight, Captain Vatta. You may inform your crew, but we will monitor the conversation. You may have access to the Slotter Key legation, of course, but with an escort we provide. Since—if it is the Edmunds crew—your life is in danger, we will provide protective custody.”
    Ky tried not to glare. “You’re going to put me in jail because I was attacked?”
    “Not exactly. Because you killed someone
and
you were attacked. And not exactly jail, but someplace safer than the Captains’ Guild.”
    “Let’s go see what they did to my room,” Ky suggested. “My luggage—”
    “Fine. But I’ll go with you. Do not try to touch anything. It would be against your best interest.” Nodding to the others, he let her lead the