''They've got a Greenfeld cruiser in port.'' Jack grinned. ''I hope we're not interrupting anything,'' did not sound at all like the Marine meant it.
''What ship?'' Kris asked.
''The light cruiser Surprise,'' Drago said, with his own tight smile at the appropriateness of the name.
''Does Georg Krätz still command her?'' Kris asked.
Sulwan looked up from her board. ''Harbormaster's records say he does.''
''Good, I've had several fine dances with the man,'' Kris said, beaming. ''He's the father of several girls, all interested in naval careers, just like their father. I suggested that he and they would have far more successful careers in the Wardhaven Navy than they could ever hope to have in anything controlled by Greenfeld. I'm looking forward to continuing our conversations.''
Jack rolled his eyes.
Kris sniffed. ''If you Marines can think of war as a continuation of politics by other means, why can't a princess continue politics by socializing?''
Next day, Kris got her chance to socialize or politic or maybe fight a very small war.
A handsome—one might say dashing—young Greenfeld lieutenant approached the Wasp's quarterdeck, offered his captain's compliments, and asked if his captain might have the pleasure of Princess Kristine Longknife's company at dinner that night.
Kris would have turned down an invitation to the Surprise's wardroom as too risky, but Krätz was wise enough to choose the most expensive … and neutral … restaurant on the space station. After only a minor argument with Jack, Kris sent her acceptance down to the JOOD, and the deal was done.
''I'm going with you,'' Jack muttered.
''I expected you to. Jack, you dance as well as he does.''
Kris politely did not hear Jack's answer to that.
''I gonna have to gussy you up all princesslike?'' was Abby's only question.
''Nope,'' Kris said. ''Formal Navy dinner dress. Small medals. Skip the Wounded Lion. He's seen my ribbons. I've seen his. We know who we are,'' Kris said, with a smile.
''I better tell Jack to tone it down,'' Abby said, and headed off to do just that. Four hours later, Kris almost regretted going Navy standard tonight. Surely, there was no uglier evening dress than what the Navy put its women in. The skirt hung like a burlap bag. The blouse was uncomfortable.
''You're wishing you were in a nice set of petticoats and crinolines,'' Jack whispered beside her.
''Security officers are not authorized to read my mind no matter what the latest new law may say,'' Kris shot back, and moved forward. Jack opened the door for her, resplendent in his dress red and blues. A sword and issue sidearm hung from his belt. No such allowance was made for the women, so Kris had her automatic hidden in the usual place.
Kris was three steps into the restaurant when she spotted Captain Krätz standing up from his table. He was accompanied by a young ensign. She wore formal Greenfeld Navy evening dress that managed the impossible. She looked worse in it than Kris did in hers. Clearly the women haters in Greenfeld's military had bested their kin on Wardhaven.
Distracted by the uniform, it took Kris an extra moment to identify the woman in it.
She almost missed a step.
Beside her, Jack's nostrils flared, but he manfully suppressed a snort.
Kris took a quick glance around the room. It was early, still well lit, and almost empty. But around the captain's table were four occupied ones. The men at them were in civilian clothes, but there was no mistaking the hard bodies under those clothes, the close haircuts, and the steely look to their eyes.
Were any of them hers? Kris spotted two women Marines she knew only too well from their doing bathroom guard duty for her. Four Wardhaven Marines, four others.
Krätz had observed the niceties.
Kris allowed herself one more second for a glance at the room, not to take in its expensive décor, but rather to note the right-hand corner of the room, where the few other customers were huddled over their food, meticulously not making eye contact with those on the left side.
Very likely, it would be a quiet dinner. No, very likely the fireworks would be reserved for the main table.
Secure that her back was covered, Kris focused her full attention on the main table. Krätz, despite a bit of graying around the temple … or maybe because of it … was magnificent in his formal blue and whites.
Beside him, somehow made frumpy by Greenfeld formal naval dinner dress, stood Ensign Victoria Peterwald. Ensign!
Kris didn't know where to start; she had so many questions.
Krätz started for her, sweeping her a full bow from the waist. When the young woman beside him balked, it took only a slight tap to her elbow to make clear that She's a princess, you are not, and this is Navy business, and we will do it my way.
Vicky chipped off a quick shallow curtsy.
But her captain stayed in his full bow.
With a scowl, Vicky curtsied again. Lower. And did not recover, but went a bit lower. Then some more.
Finally, her head was even with her captain's.
Only then did Kris smile and give them a most regal nod of the royal head. ''Thank you, Captain, Ensign, but we are in Cuzco space, and I seriously doubt their government recognizes United Sentients patents of ennoblement.''
''But graciousness is recognized throughout human space,'' the good captain said, rising from his bow. ''Your Highness, may I present to you my new junior communications watch officer, Ensign Victoria Smythe-Peterwald.''
''I am glad that we are finally formally introduced,'' Kris said, forgetting for the moment the several times they had informally tried to kill each other.
''It is good to meet you,'' came from the ensign, as if each word out of her mouth was a snake or spider out of the fairy tales.
As Jack held Kris's chair for her to sit, the captain did the same for the young woman. She seemed startled by the chivalry.
You have an awful lot to learn, Miss Vicky, Kris thought to herself. So do I, but at least I know I do.
Kris decided to open the conversation. ''I was rather surprised to see the Surprise tied up along the next pier. If it isn't a state secret, can I ask how you come to be here?''
''Some people might consider it just such a state secret,'' Captain Krätz said, with a chuckle and a glance at the young woman he was escorting. ''But a look at the ship you escorted in tells me that both our planets are likely concerned about the same matter. How did that freighter come to be so shot up?''
''I'm afraid that I did it,'' Kris said, not quite succeeding at looking bashful. That only got her raised eyebrows from both the captain and the ensign.
''It fired on the Wasp while we were making like an unarmed merchant,'' Kris said in formal report mode. ''I was on weapons and returned the compliment. I put a twenty-four-inch pulse laser through their bridge, and that was the end of the discussion.''
''Just like you did to my brother,'' Victoria Peterwald shot back.
''Ensign, we talked about that,'' the captain said, giving warning.
Kris shook her head. ''Excuse me, Captain, if you will,'' Kris said, ''Ensign Peterwald and I need to get this out in the open. She may never agree with me, but she needs to hear my side.'' Kris turned her full attention to Victoria.
''You killed my brother just like you did that freighter crew,'' Vicky got in first.
''I was involved in your brother's death, but not ‘just like' those people on the pirate's bridge.''
Vicky's mouth was half-open, a retort already coming, but with a glance at the glower on her captain's face, she bit it off and shut her mouth.