"Ah-MacRobert is the fellow who gave you that warship kit?"

"Yes," Ky said. She didn't like thinking of strangers in her cabin going through her things, but of course they had, and no use being angry about it now.

"That explains a lot," Pitt said. "All right, then, Captain, here's what you need to do." She listed actions, some of which Ky had already thought of-assigning teams for shift work to keep the place tidy, prepare meals, etc.-and some of which she hadn't, like placing guards on the galley and crew storage. "Thing is," Pitt said, "they're going to be angry, and bored, and some of them-the captains of the other civ ships-are going to think they should be running this, not a baby-faced kid like you. You have to convince them otherwise. And you have to not let any pretty boy like that Skeldon get past your guard."

Was everyone going to assume that she had trusted Skeldon too much? Probably. Probably Gary or Quincy had told Pitt about her fifth birthday party, too. And no time to brood about it now, or about the description of her as "baby-faced kid."

"I don't have an implant now," she said to Pitt. "So I'd appreciate it if you'd send that list to Quincy. She's the closest I've got to a master sergeant of my own."

"They couldn't save your implant? Sorry."

"And they recommended I not have a new one fitted for six months, until any remaining neuro reshaping is definitely stable. But I didn't

have one in the Academy, so it's not as bad as if I had depended on it for the last four years."

"That's good." Pitt paused, then went on. "I could give you

recommendations, based on my observations and reports I've gotten from buddies working with your future passengers, of who's good for what."

"Thanks. Any info you have I'll take." And do with what she would, but she figured Pitt understood that. Then the passengers began to arrive. Unfortunately, to keep the cargo holds aired up meant that all the incoming passengers had to cycle through the escape vacuum lock and then be shunted down the maintenance passage and into the area prepared for them. The passengers, Ky was told, comprised the senior ship's officers from all the civilian ships interdicted in the system: captains, first and second officers, communications personnel, and engineering firsts. The passenger ship Empress Rose, of the famous Imperial Spaceways, would serve the mercenaries as a courier-a choice that meant her passengers would be delayed as little as possible-but her captain would be interned on Glennys Jones.

All the passengers had been informed of the situation, and the mercenaries seemed confident that they would be reasonably cooperative, but Ky had her doubts. She didn't intend to show any of them.

Instead, she wore her dress uniform, with cape, and stood at the turn from the escape passage to the maintenance passage, greeting each person who came aboard. Without an implant assist, she had no way to know which was which, so it was a spare "Good day, welcome aboard, that way please..." greeting, but it was a greeting, and she could tell from the expressions that her captain's rings and cape had an effect.

When the passengers were aboard, the work party carried in the rations taken from the civilian ships. These stuffed the little galley and its storage, and filled half the rec area as well. She hoped it would be enough. Ten days, fifty additional people, three meals a day... one hundred fifty additional meals to prepare, in a galley meant for a crew of less than twenty.

But they were alive, unharmed, and with any luck would survive

this and even be paid.

"Time to go," Pitt said finally. "We've unloaded all your supplies; your passengers are secured in the cargo holds. Someone should come behind us to secure the hatch."

"Right," Ky said. "Gary, if you'll see to the hatch."

"And thanks, Captain, for being sensible about this."

Ky grinned. "Thanks for not killing me." She watched the

mercenary walk away, already fitting the helmet on her pressure suit. What would it have been like, to have someone like Pitt at her side year after year? For a moment, she allowed herself a last moment of grief for the lost opportunities... but the opportunities now before her were exciting enough.

She went forward to the bridge, where Riel was in the pilot's chair as if he hadn't moved since she left.

"I hope you've rotated shifts," she said.

"Yes, Captain. Glad to have you back."

"I'm glad to be back. And for our next adventure, let's get through the next ten days or so with no such excitement, shall we?"

"I certainly hope so," he said.

She sat in the command seat and flicked on the circuits. With the earbug in, she could access data almost as quickly as with the

implant. A fast check of ship systems for herself-and Glennys Jones was fine, except for the FTL drive. Video from the cargo holds, where her passengers were standing around in clumps, showed talking and gesturing. When she listened in on the audio, most of the talk was angry. That wasn't good.

She turned on the intercom. "This is Captain Vatta. Once again,

welcome aboard the Glennys Jones."A tall man with silvery hair, in a captain's uniform, turned around, glared at the nearest vid pickup and approached it. "I demand that you come down here and straighten this mess out. What did they mean, you had a contract with them?"

Thanks to the earbug's link to the personnel files, she knew this was

Captain Kristoffson of the Empress Rose."Captain Kristoffson, I will be speaking to you and the other captains shortly. As you must realize, we have a great deal of work to do to make this ship as comfortable and efficient as possible in the next few hours. Bear with us, please, as we get this done. We should have a meal for you all in about three hours-"

"This is outrageous! This is nothing but a cargo hold! It's not even warm. You can't seriously expect us to sleep on the cargo deck in these"-he glared around-"these disgusting bedroll things. I demand a stateroom. Captains of respectable ships do not sleep on the floor..."

Ky's first impulse to share her cabin with the more senior captains had been quashed by Pitt's advice, but it would not have survived this.

"Excuse me, Captain Kristoffson, but this is not the time to make complaints. I will consider your complaints later. At the moment, I need you and the other captains to organize the work parties needed to finish making your holds comfortable. I'm sure your personnel would be more comfortable commanded by familiar officers, so I've arranged a rota which permits shipmates to work together."

"Work parties! Passengers don't work, Vatta-of course, you don't know about passenger ships-" Her temper rose at the contempt in his voice. She glanced at Riel, who made a rude gesture.

"I'm sure you're aware that this is not a normal passenger service,"

Ky said. "Things are difficult for us all..."

"Not for you, apparently," he said. "You can loll in whatever passes for luxury on this tub-not that I expect it's much-"

"Enough," Ky said, in a voice borrowed from the Commandant.

Somewhat to her surprise, it worked-Kristoffson blinked and looked stunned. "I have just returned from having surgery on the mercenary flagship-I was nearly killed when my ship was boarded, and I don't see any scars on you, sir. Don't push your luck."

His mouth had dropped open; now it shut with a snap. "I-I-they

didn't say that-"

"No reason for them to. I'm lucky to be alive and so are you. Let's keep it that way."

"But I still think-"

"Captain, as you must realize, this ship is not large enough to give everyone the quarters they deserve, and it would be unfair to play

favorites. The working crew will stay in the crew quarters, and the

passengers will stay where they're put. Is that clear?"

"Yes..." His eyes narrowed. "But I still intend to file a complaint. It must break some law for a neutral civilian to sign a contract with a mercenary company."

"Actually, no," Ky said. "Most cargo firms sign transport contracts with mercenaries all the time. Section 234.6, Universal Commercial Code. If you were combatants or war materiel, that would be Section 234.7." She thought of pointing out that he might well have had mercenary officers as passengers when they were on leave or undercover assignment, and thought better of it. Instead she went on, "I realize this has all been a grave inconvenience for you, but we're all going to have to make the best of it." She waited a moment for that to sink in, and then repeated. "Captains, please organize your ship's personnel into working parties. We have been given basic information about the qualifications of passengers; in addition to the work parties dealing with food, sanitation, and maintenance, we may be requesting specific personnel to assist in ship systems areas where the very small existing crew is overloaded."

Other captains visible in the pickup nodded, but Kristoffson still looked uncooperative. Too bad, Ky thought. She kept the video and audio monitors on, but cut off the intercom to the holds. Instead she called the galley.

"How's the meal prep going?" she asked.

"We figured out how to keep all the frozen stuff that doesn't fit in the freezer," Gary said. He sounded tired; he probably had been up

for three shifts running. "We turned the heat off in number three and put it in there. Quincy's trying to cobble up a cooler for the perishables that won't fit into storage, and the cooks are using up whatever won't fit in either."

"Good," Ky said. "Questions?"

"Do we try to keep the food sources separate, and feed the different ships' crews stuff off their own ships?"

"No-too complicated," Ky said. "I don't even know if they

brought proportional amounts off the various ships."

"There's gold-eye raspberries off Empress Rose... I've never even tasted one...""Enough for everyone?""For one meal.""Serve 'em up," Ky said. "If that captain brought 'em for his own special meals, he can just suffer through sharing."

"Trouble?"

"He'd like to be," Ky said. "He's used to being in charge and he

thinks being stuck in the cargo hold of a freighter is the worst that