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"Captain Oversteegen," the face's owner said harshly, "I am Commodore Aikawa Navarre, Mesan Space Navy, and I find it difficult to believe that you are not perfectly well aware of the reason for my units' presence in this system."

Cold hazel eyes narrowed, and Navarre allowed several seconds of silence to linger. Then he continued.

"Before Mr. Takashi was forced to surrender his space station to the notorious terrorist Jeremy X, a dispatch boat had already been sent to summon assistance. Fortunately, the boat was still in communications range of the space station at the time of its surrender. Equally fortunately, the system authorities had been informed of the presence of my task group in the vicinity, conducting routine exercises."

The hazel eyes didn't even flicker at the straight-faced phrase "routine exercises," Oversteegen noticed.

"Because of that, I was able to respond immediately. And also because of that, Captain Oversteegen, I am quite well informed on what had occurred prior to the dispatch boat's departure. Which means, Captain, that I am aware that the entire 'crisis' in which the supposed 'terrorists' kidnaped a member of your kingdom's royal family, was obviously a pure invention. A carefully engineered deception whose sole purpose was to permit an organization outlawed by every major star nation—including your own—to seize the property of a Mesan corporation and to murder scores of its employees.

"Not content with that, Captain," Navarre's voice went even colder, "your ship has seen fit to sit here in orbit while those same terrorists carried out systematic, brutal atrocities and the massacre of men, women, and children on the surface of the planet Verdant Vista!"

Navarre might not have spent any effort on opening communications with Gauntlet, Oversteegen reflected, but he had obviously taken time to download a complete news report from the media ships still covering the story of the liberation of Congo.

And what a spectacularly bloody story it had become, he thought grimly. Much though it galled him to his soul to admit it, there was more than a faint echo of truth to Navarre's last accusation.

"Under the circumstances, Captain Oversteegen," the Mesan continued, "and given that you yourself have completely failed in your obvious responsibility to prevent the brutal and savage shedding of innocent blood, I intend to put a stop to it. I would not advise you to further try my patience by attempting to impede me in the performance of my duty."

"I don't believe you accurately apprehend the circumstances obtainin' on this planet," Oversteegen replied in an equally cold voice. "I give you my solemn word, as a Queen's officer, that not a single 'terrorist'—or anyone else—landed from the space station orbiting the planet Torch—" he emphasized the planet's new name deliberately "—participated in any of the bloodshed you just described. If you so desire, you may check with the officers and news personnel aboard any of the four media vessels which, at my suggestion, were invited t' monitor events aboard the space station following its surrender t' the forces of the Torch Liberation Army."

"Torch Liberation Army!" Navarre's face twisted in a sneer as he repeated the phrase. "What a respectable name for a pack of cowardly, murderous vermin. I am shocked—no, Captain, sickened—to hear anyone calling himself a naval officer, even of a backwater, neobarb 'star kingdom,' acting as a mouthpiece for the scum of the galaxy. I suppose they expected to be in a position to pay you a handsome bribe for your services after they got done looting Verdant Vista."

"How fortunate for you, Commodore," Oversteegen said calmly, "that you're in a position t' bandy your accusations from the security of your command deck. I, of course, as a benighted subject of my 'neobarb' monarch, far too uncivilized t' appreciate the splendor of your civilized turn of phrase, might be tempted t' react t' them with unseemly violence. Particularly when they come from a man who chooses to wear the uniform of the single so-called 'navy' which has, for the past nine T-centuries, protected the systematic trade in human bein's. And which, I might take this opportunity t' observe, since you have just so rightly condemned the massacre of women and children on Torch, has connived at and cooperated with the systematic sale, torture, degradation, and casual murder of literally millions of those same human bein's durin' that period. At least, Sir, the uniform of the Queen of Manticore has never been sold t' the service of whoremasters, murderers, pedophiles, sadists, and perverts. I suppose, however, that those of you who choose t' serve in the navy of Mesa feel comfortable amid such company."

Navarre's face flushed and his square jaw quivered as Oversteegen's cold, cutting words struck home. Then his upper lip drew back.

"I do, indeed, feel comfortable in the service of my star nation," he said, softly. "And I am looking forward to the opportunity to deal with you and your ship in the fashion you so amply deserve, Captain. In the interest of demonstrating respect for interstellar law, however, I will give you one last opportunity to avoid the consequences of your arrogance and criminal activities in this system. You will release any surviving Mesan citizens in your custody. And you will turn over to me the terrorist butchers responsible for the outrages and murders committed on the surface of Verdant Vista."

"There are no citizens of Mesa in my custody, Commodore," Oversteegen replied. "All such prisoners are in the custody of the provisional government of the independent planet Torch. And, I repeat, none of the personnel involved in the capture of the space station in orbit around Torch participated in acts of violence against any civilian, regardless of age or gender, on that planet's surface. The actions to which you refer, and which the provisional government deeply regrets and deplores, were committed by the citizens of Torch in the course of liberatin' themselves from the brutality and systematic abuse, starvation, torture, and, yes, murder, of the institution of genetic slavery of which your star nation thinks so highly."

"Citizens!" Navarre spat. "Rabble! Scum! Cat—!"

He chopped himself off before the word "cattle" slipped fully out, and Oversteegen smiled thinly. The encrypted communications channel between Gauntlet and Navarre's flagship was theoretically totally secure. Theory, however, had a habit of sometimes coming up short against reality, and Navarre was clearly conscious of the watching—and possibly listening—news ships still camped out in the Congo System. For that matter, he had to realize that Oversteegen was recording the entire exchange, so a certain discretion was undoubtedly called for.

The Mesan commodore drew a deep breath, then squared his shoulders and glowered at Oversteegen.

"Very well, Captain," he said icily. "Since you decline to discharge your responsibilities, I will discharge them for you. I suggest that you stand aside, because my task group is about to put an end to the bloodshed and atrocities being committed on Verdant Vista."

"I regret, Sir," Oversteegen replied, not sounding as if he regretted anything in the least, "that I can't do that. The provisional government of Torch has appealed t' the Star Kingdom of Manticore for protection and assistance in establishin' and maintainin' public order on their planet. As Her Majesty's senior officer in this sector, I have provisionally agreed in her name t' extend that assistance t' the government and citizens of Torch."

"Stand aside," Navarre grated. "I won't warn you again, Captain. And while I am aware of your somewhat exaggerated reputation, I suggest that you consider the odds carefully. If you attempt to hinder me in the performance of my duty, I will not hesitate to engage and destroy your vessel. Do you really wish to kill your entire crew and risk open war between your star nation and mine over a planet full of outlaws?"

"Well," Oversteegen said with a cold, hungry smile, "defendin' other people's planets against unprovoked attack by murderous scum seems t' have become something of a tradition for my Queen's Navy over the past few decades. Under the circumstances, I'm sure she'll forgive me for followin' that tradition."

"Are you totally insane?" Navarre asked in a tone which had become almost conversational. "You have one cruiser, Oversteegen. I have five, plus a battlecruiser and screen. Are you really stupid enough to take on that much tonnage all by yourself?"