“No. I’m fine… I think. Why?”

“Only that it would be simpler if you also had an implant. But you’re right, this can wait. Collecting your defensive suite shouldn’t. If you’ll contact MilMart with authorization, I’ll get a squad over there right away.”

“Excuse me,” Ky said. “The secure lines are all on the bridge.” She left them there, taking deep breaths on the way to the bridge. She had not anticipated that events would move with such speed, and yet why not? If you hired military, you expected action… or you should. She felt stupid and slow, and she hated that feeling.

On the bridge, she opened one of the secure lines to the bank and authorized a draft to MilMartExchange for the cost of the suite, and then spoke to MilMart authorizing Mackensee personnel to pick up the equipment.

“So—you’ve hired mercs. Well, you hired good ones,” the accounting manager said. “When will they be picking it up?”

“Soon,” Ky said. “Within the hour, I should think. By the way, your policy statement states that you maintain customer privacy and discretion—”

“Oh, sure. Nobody wants anyone to know what they’re buying or who for. Don’t worry, Captain Vatta. We’ve been doing this for years. Are you sure you don’t want that weapons suite?”

“I’m sure,” Ky said. She wasn’t at all sure she trusted that casual assurance of discretion, but she had no choice, really. Lee cocked an eye at her as she shut down the line.

“Things moving, Captain?”

“Indeed, Lee. We’ll be undocking today, soon as we can load up this defensive equipment and supplies. Start the ball rolling with the station about that.” She shook her head. “And I thought, once I got back to Belinta with that load of tractors, that everything was going to be simple and boring again.”

He chuckled. “Somehow I think you aren’t cut out for boring, Captain.”

Ky shook her head at him, and went back to the rec area. “You’ll want the authorization number from MilMart,” she said, handing it over. “They’re ready for pickup any time; the bank’s released funds. And they promise discretion, for what that’s worth…”

Pensig pursed his lips. “MilMart’s pretty good about it—they’ve made their reputation and their fortune by keeping their mouths shut—but they’re big enough now that leaks could happen.” He looked blankly into the distance for a few moments; Ky knew he was accessing his implant. “Well, that’s taken care of. Now, how about a loading crew?”

“Good idea,” Ky said. “I was just—”

“Captain—” That was Lee, poking his head in. “Rafe’s on the line; he says he needs you.”

Now what? Ky excused herself again and headed for the bridge. Rafe, looking a bit rumpled, looked out of the screen at her.

“We have a situation,” he said. “Your crew are alive, but we’re all… being detained.”

“By whom?” Ky asked.

“The Garda. That idiot Jim got into some kind of row with someone, the beauteous Mehar backed him up, and there’s a body in the produce department of Farmboy’s, and another in the bakery. And a blood trail out the back, which is what I noticed when I was on my way back here from… another errand.”

“And no one called me?”

“They say they’ve tried twice, and the line was busy. They’re trying to take statements. I wanted to sit in; they wouldn’t let me; I’m not listed as a ship officer. But they remember Jim from a previous encounter… what is that boy, some kind of explosive device in human form?”

Ky ignored that question. “So what is the situation now? Do you know?”

“I know they’re being detained, and from the look on the desk sergeant’s face, Jim won’t be seeing anything but a lockup for a while. Mehar has those wide eyes; they think she was lured into trouble by a bad boy and is too young to have good judgment. But it would help if you could show up with some legal aid. At least they let me call you.”

“I’ll be there,” Ky said. She met Captain Pensig in the passage; he looked grim.

“Master Sergeant Dolan just reported—”

“I heard,” Ky said. “Some kind of dustup in the grocery, and my people are in custody. I have to get over there—”

“Not without an escort,” he said. “And if you don’t mind, I’d like to come along.” His mouth twitched. “Getting my people out of trouble with local law enforcement is something I’ve done too often before. Do you have a local attorney?”

“Not really,” Ky said. “I took advice on the disposal of cargo originally consigned to Leonora, but that was purely commercial.”

“Um. I’ll have Joe send someone along.” Again that blank look.

Ky ducked into her cabin for her formal captain’s cape—no use trying for anonymity in this situation—and hurried down to the dock. She couldn’t take Martin along; he needed to be dockside to receive and load the cargo coming in. He looked grim as she told him what she knew, but nodded when she said the Mackensee squad would go with her. Ky felt marginally safer surrounded by them, but still scared. She was sure that a gifted assassin could find some way to kill her anyway.

The section Garda station was some distance away. Outside it, two men in uniform stood guard, scowling as the group came toward them.

“You can’t go in there like that,” one of them said. “What are you up to?”

“Keeping Captain Vatta alive,” Captain Pensig said. “Since the station refused to give her any protection, and she’s already been attacked, she hired professionals.”

Glares.

“Excuse me,” Ky said, “but I believe my crew need me.” She stepped forward. The guards said nothing as she led the way in.

Inside, Rafe lounged against the wall, straightening when he saw her; his expression remained ironic. Ky nodded at him without speaking and went to the desk.

“I’m Captain Vatta—I understand you have been trying to reach me?”

“Couldn’t get through,” the man said without looking up. When he did, his eyes widened. “You brought them—!”

“It seemed wise,” Ky said. “Since my crew and I have been attacked onstation before and the Garda have refused to give us protection—”

“You have too many enemies,” he said. “And so you hired mercs—”

“It’s not illegal,” Ky said. “I would like to see my crewmembers, please, and find out what the problem seems to be.”

“Problem is, that murdering ruffian you have in your crew just killed another two people—”

Ky felt her brows go up. “I do not have murdering ruffians in my crew. If by another, you’re referring to the man I shot, that has already been adjudicated as self-defense, and the dead man was part of the gang that attacked me—”

“Three of you people have killed someone on this station. I’d call that serious cause for concern. Most people make it through a lifetime without killing anyone.”

“Most people aren’t attacked repeatedly by someone trying to kill them. Self-defense isn’t murder.”

“There was no attack. He shot a poor old lady as lived in the neighborhood for forty years, thereabouts, and—”

Ky’s heart sank.

“I suppose you’ve done the forensic matching already,” Captain Pensig said, peering at the ceiling as if he found it interesting.

“Well, no, but there’s no need. Nobody but him and that girl had any weapons. And she only had that pistol bow.”

“And the second body?” Ky asked.

“Dockworker. Only been here a month, but nothing against him.”

“And the third?” Rafe asked from behind them. “Found the owner of the bloody footsteps yet?”

“I told you before, there was no blood trail when we looked. If you’re one of this lot, I’m not surprised you lied about it.”

“I think I’d better speak to your shift supervisor,” Ky said.

“He’s busy… busy with that crew of yours,” the man said. “You can wait until he’s free. You seem to think you’re special…” His gaze went past Ky to the door. She turned to look; a lean man in Mackensee uniform with a lock case strode in; the escort moved smoothly aside and closed in after him.