Brun appeared suddenly at Esmay's side. "Hi there-introduce me, Lieutenant Suiza, to this most attractive young ensign. Unless, that is, you're keeping him for yourself."

Barin flushed, and Esmay could feel her own ears heating up. With an effort, she forced a smile onto her face and said, "This is Ensign Serrano . . . Ensign, this is Brun Meager." She didn't have to give a pedigree; everyone knew it.

"You must be Admiral Serrano's grandson," Brun said, practically shoving in front of Esmay. "I heard a lot about you-do you have a few minutes?"

Esmay didn't-it was time for her next class. She ignored the desperate look Barin gave her and abandoned him to his fate. If he couldn't handle one dizzy blonde . . .

But she had trouble concentrating on tactics, for the first time in her life. Brun was beautiful, in a way she had never been beautiful, and she had that ability to attract almost anyone. Even Esmay had liked her, in spite of disapproving; it was impossible, it seemed, to stay distant from her. Naturally she would like Barin-charming, handsome, talented-and naturally Barin . . . she yanked her mind back to the lecture, and realized that Vericour had noticed her distraction, which made it even worse.

She made it through class after class, dragging her attention back again and again from the thought of Barin and Brun. If this was what love did, she told herself grimly, no wonder they cautioned officers against it. Back on Kos it had seemed simple: her feeling for Barin made her stronger, more confident, happier-and her performance had soared. But that was the first burst of feeling . . . this was something else, not helpful at all. Was he having the same problem? Would loving her destroy his chances to be the officer he could be? She tried to think what her therapist would have said, but none of the phrases she remembered helped at all.

At the evening meal, she was hunched morosely over her tray when a chair scraped at her side.

"Lieutenant?" It was Barin. She felt something clench and release in her chest.

"Ensign," she said. She felt like crying; she choked that feeling back. "Barin-how was your first day?"

"Interesting," Barin said. He was grinning at her in obvious delight. "You're looking good. When Uhlis started in on me, I wasn't sure what to do-but then I figured out what he was driving at."

"I could have clobbered him," Esmay said, startling herself with the fierceness of that. Hunger returned, and she took a bite of bread as if it were Uhlis's flesh.

"No-" Barin paused for a spoonful of soup. "He was right, and I did make an interesting demonstration for the class. I would bet they don't have someone like me in every class-unless they import them especially." He looked thoughtful a moment. "I wonder if that's why I got this course. It's just devious enough-" He shook his head. "But you-I hear you've been taking one course on top of another. Are you getting any sleep at all?"

She felt her ears going hot, even though she knew it was an innocent inquiry into her health. "I'm doing fine, as long as I don't do much but study."

"Oh, I wasn't going to interrupt you," Barin said. "I know this is important to you. I just hoped-"

"I know," Esmay said, into her roast beef. "I'm just-you know it's been awhile."

"Ah." Barin ate some peas, then something orange that had probably started life in the squash family. "I saw you yesterday, when I came in. Going to some class-seems like you're getting along well with the other officers."

"Trying to," Esmay said. "All that you told me about the difference in cultures-it helps. Though I still catch myself about to apologize or explain far too often."

"Glad to be of service," Barin said. "I was going to ask-"

"Well," said a voice from overhead. "I hoped to find my favorite ensign for a dinner companion, but he's already engaged-"

Esmay nearly choked; Barin turned. "Hello, Sera Meager . . ."

"Brun. Nobody calls me Sera Meager or Ms. Meager but people who want to keep me from doing things.

You don't mind if I join you, do you? I promise my watchdogs will keep a respectful distance."

"Of course," Barin said; he stood while Brun found a seat across from Esmay, exactly where Esmay did not want those clear blue eyes.

"How did the exam go?" Brun asked Esmay, with apparently genuine interest. "Administrative

Procedures, wasn't it? Sounds deadly boring to me. Forms-filling, isn't it?"

"A bit more than that," Esmay heard herself say, with unmistakeable coolness in her voice. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Forms-filling is part of it, but then you have the decisions

of which form, and to what office it should be sent. Filling it out correctly doesn't help if you've sent the wrong level of form, or sent the right form to the wrong office."

"Deadly boring. My sympathies. I hope my heckling you that morning didn't hurt your performance."

"No," Esmay said. "I did all right."

"All right being number one in the class. Don't hide your light, Lieutenant," Barin said.

"Good for you," Brun said. "Though I can't see you as a forms-filler, I suppose into every life a

few forms must fall."

Esmay could not stay annoyed, not with that combination of interest and goodwill beaming at her from across the table. "I thought it was boring," she said. "But-it was a requirement."

"So you topped out. What I'd expect. Are you sure you won't come into Q-town, the both of you, and

celebrate?"

"I can't," Esmay said. "The Tactics final is in two days, and our workgroup is studying tonight and tomorrow night."

"Well, then, Ensign-do you have a final coming up?"

"No, but-"

"Then you can come, surely? If you're not in Lieutenant Suiza's Tactics class, then she's not

going to be spending time with you-not that she'd cradle-rob anyway."

"I'm hardly an infant, Brun," Barin said, before Esmay could say anything. "But yes, I'll be your escort . . . since your watchdogs will be along to ensure my good behavior."

Esmay watched them go with feelings not so much mixed as churned. She did have a Tactics study

group meeting, but she had hoped for a few more minutes with Barin, in which she could ask him about his interpretation of the rules governing personal relationships between officers not of the same rank, or in the same chain of command. He had grown up in Fleet; he was used to the rules. If he thought there was nothing wrong, there probably wasn't anything wrong.

Barin eyed the Speaker's daughter as they walked through to the base gates. Dangerous waters, he told himself. Professional officers did not mix with Families; the shadowy aura of Undue Influence brooded over any such liaison. Still, common courtesy to a guest of the Fleet demanded that he accompany her . . . and her security detail.

He would much rather have talked to Esmay. They had things to discuss . . . and anyway, she looked tired, strained, and he wanted to help her, ease that strain. She had been trying so hard for so long; she was on the right track now, but . . . his fingers twitched, imagining the softness of her hair, the way he could soothe the tension from her neck.

"So . . . you knew Lieutenant Suiza on the Koskiusko?" Brun asked.

"Yes," Barin said, brought back abruptly from his reverie.

"Is she always so . . . stiff?"

"Stiff? She's hardworking, professional-"

"Dull," Brun said. But her mouth quirked.

"You can't mean that," Barin said.

She grinned at him. "No, I don't mean that. But I wanted to meet her, talk to her, and she's always so . . . so upright and formal. Not to mention that she never seems to stop studying. She's at the top in just about every class-what more does she want?"

"What any of us wants," Barin said. "To be the best." He was aware of his spine growing slightly more rigid, and wondered why.

"It's so different," Brun said, in a thoughtful tone. "I've been around Royal Space Service officers for years, and they're not like all of you."

Because they weren't really military, but that was not something to say when Brun was being trailed by six of the Royal Security's finest.

"I don't know why all this is necessary," Brun went on. "Professional competence I can understand, but the rules are ridiculous."

Barin managed not to snort. "What rules are these?" he asked instead.

"Oh, you know. All this formality in class-standing when the instructor enters, and saluting all the time, and everything divided by rank."