Beside her, Jack grinned and nodded emphatic agreement.
''If you doubt me, talk to Steve Kovar. Navy officers are not supposed to retire as lieutenants. Not supposed to spend fifteen years in the same billet and never get a promotion.''
The table took that in and weighed it. The eyes that looked back at Kris seemed devoid of conclusion. All but one.
''That is why you're here, isn't it,'' Alice said, once again massaging her future daughter.
''Alice, I'll warn you,'' Kris said. ''I just told you the best of all lies.'' Eyebrows raised around the table at that. ''I told you a truth no one will ever believe.''
The table chuckled, unsure at that.
''May I put in two cents,'' Jack said, breaking his silence. ''For as long as I have known this woman, she has never gone looking for a fight. Never set out to start a war.'' He paused, grinned, then said, ''Though I have known her to shut a few down.''
There were snickers around the table at that.
''No, this Longknife does not go looking for trouble,'' Jack said. ''But I must also tell you. I have never known trouble to not find her.'' Jack eyed Hank's table across the room. ''I have never known trouble to miss a chance to ruin her day… or mine.'' Those around the table grew silent, intent on digesting the rather large chunk of raw, red truth they'd been served.
Then the music started and Kris was not surprised to find Ron beside her chair. ''I think you promised me the first dance.''
It took Kris only a moment on the floor to remember why she enjoyed dancing with the man. He led, but not too strongly; she followed, but not too willingly. They were a good match.
''Aren't you going to ask me about our dinner conversation with Hank?''
''Was there anything more to it than ‘You need to get on the bandwagon before it runs you down.' ''
''He didn't exactly threaten us, but you got the gist of it.''
Kris looked around the dance floor. It was filling up with couples, mostly locals. Here and there Kris spotted a young local girl in the arms of a junior Greenfeld officer… the most ancient form of sedition at work. Across the room, Hank and Marta had their heads together in conversation.
''And you left your poor mother to baby-sit Hank?''
''More likely to warn any available young woman that here is an available young man you don't want to get anywhere near.''
''You've changed your opinion of Hank!'' Kris said in perfectly feigned shock.
He scrunched up his face as if in deep thought. ''Yes, I believe I have. Most definitely. I didn't much like him in college. I like even less the little twerp leading warships into my home planet's orbit.''
The music ended. No one made to break in, and they went smoothly into a second dance. Something from old Earth that allowed them to stay close and talk. ''You aren't upset that he was once a potential suitor for my hand, are you?''
''The hand with the gun, or the one with the hand grenade?''
Kris squinched up her face in deep thought. ''I think both.''
''Foolish young man,'' Ron said.
''Speaking of, here he comes,'' Kris warned through a smile.
''Mind if I cut in.'' Hank did not ask.
''Of course not, Commodore. This shindig is in your honor. But don't tie up all her dances. I think a line is forming.''
''Strange, I didn't see anyone,'' Hank said, putting his arm around Kris's waist and feeling around a bit before they began to move to the music. ''What, no assault rifle?''
''I escrow heavy artillery when I come the dainty princess.''
''Well, I'll assume I'm safe from kidnapping when with you.''
''And I feel oh so much safer from the odd and sod assassin when in your arms,'' Kris shot back.
''You know, it doesn't have to be this way between us.''
''It doesn't?'' Kris said. No need here to play the coy innocent. The two of them knew exactly the way things were.
''No. My dad is not the monster you make him out to be. Yes, he has some subordinates that got out of control. But weren't you the one that pointed out that your own grandfather was a slumlord?''
''I most certainly did.''
''And did he do anything about it, but sell off the embarrassing property, no improvements made?''
''The old guy is guilty as charged.''
''Well.''
''You're talking about the splinters in my family's eye that I've been hollering at them about, but I have yet to hear you say a word to your old man about the I beam sticking out of his.''
''There you go again, insisting that it's all our fault.''
''And there you go insisting that none of it is. Want to tell me how your father arranged that attack on Wardhaven?''
''There's no proof at all my father was involved.''
Kris had been doing her best to let Hank lead, but he tried to send her into a deep back bend and there was no bend in her. She took two steps back, her own back ramrod straight, and right there, on the dance floor, they came uncoupled. ''Of course there's no proof. All the survivors from six honking-big battleships died.''
''You shot the prisoners,'' Hank shouted, his voice breaking.
''Somebody jiggered their survival pods,'' Kris shot back, her voice low and deadly.
''Commodore, Commodore, didn't you promise me a dance?'' Marta Torn was there, at Hank's left, leading him into a turn away from Kris. And Jack was at Kris's left, turning her away from the red-faced youth in the Commodore uniform.
''Well, that went well,'' Jack offered.
''Think he'll want another dance?''
''I think we better arrange our own ride up to the station.''
''You think so?''
''I know so. You Princess. Me Chief of your security. Me making this call. Any argument is hereby ruled out of order.''
Kris sighed. ''I guess this is another date I end up walking home from.''
''Didn't your momma tell you a gal's mettle is determined by the ones she walks home from, not the ones she rides back with?''
Kris scowled at the mention of her mother. ''Nope, I think that escaped her.'''
''Aren't you glad you have a security chief to teach you the most basic things about being a young woman.''
Kris leaned her head against Jack's shoulder. ''Yes, I'm glad,'' she said. Unfortunately, she could never tell him just how glad she was to have him there.
Jack expertly led them to the far edge of the dance floor, Kris did not see Hank for some time, and when she did he made a point of ignoring her. Kris did notice that the woman he danced with wore a wedding ring. Part of Marta's plan?
When the next dance was new and far too frantic for Kris, she and Jack made their way back to their table. Ron was there, and the expectant mother, her feet up on the chair next to her.
Kris eyed the empty chairs. ''Are they off carrying my possibly true words to the entire gathering?'' Kris asked.
''I think the entire gathering tracked every word you and the commodore exchanged. What's that about you shooting prisoners?''
''We didn't,'' Kris said, taking her seat and draining a water glass. One of the servers appeared and immediately refilled it. ''Just a rumor the Peterwalds spread that doesn't add up.'' Kris didn't want to shout exactly how with the music so loud. The next song came up soft and gentle; Ron was again waiting.
''Care for another dance if I pledge myself to defend possession of your delicate body with tooth and nails?''
''Be warned, I'm armed with this cake sheer,'' Jack said darkly adjusting his sword at his side. ''Oh, and a pistol, too,'' he said as if just remembering his service automatic.
''If the woman says to let you cut in, I'll consider not putting up too much of a fight,'' Ron agreed.
Kris danced with the mayor, and with her security chief, and with several other young men from Chance who migrated to her table and asked for the privilege of risking their toes to her missteps. She did keep an eye on Hank and his blue suits, but nothing happened. The junior officers danced, as did Hank and his young captains. The three older skippers did not, but sat together, talked quietly, and sipped wine.