''Nobody tells me when to leave,'' Hank said petulantly.
''I'm not saying that you have to leave, but I am saying that no one wants any of your men in their restaurants, stores, or eateries. You have worn out your welcome,'' Kris repeated.
Hank frowned at Captain Slovo. He nodded. ''Civilians are within their rights to do that, sir. No one can force another person to do business.''
A shot rang out as if for emphasis.
Sailors, arms tired from holding their weapons at high port, were slow to react. But they did look around, hunting for the source of the shot. It was as if a great beast held its breath for a moment before it roared.
Kris stepped into that space. ''Hold your fire.''
For a moment the shock of a woman's voice ordering obedience must have caused the monster pause. Kris raised her arms, spread her hands as if she was personally holding the two sides apart.
''Don't shoot. Hold your fire,'' she commanded. ''Jack, find out who fired.''
Jack was already running toward the Police Training Center where Kris thought the shot was from. His automatic was out and raised. He raced to a window where the sun now highlighted a crack running from top to bottom, a hole shining like a star. ''You there, put that man under arrest. Now.''
Someone must have obeyed, because Jack quit running, scowled at the Police School in general, holstered his weapon, and turned back to his place beside Kris.
''How much longer do we keep this up, Hank? Until one of your men faints and looses rapid fire into your ranks. Me, I got a whole lot of amateurs aiming guns at you with their safeties off. For God's sake, man, let's take it down a few notches so we can talk without some poor dumb schmucks shooting us in the back.''
Hank, perfectly sculptured face and all, looked like some kid who had just been told he wasn't getting a Christmas pony. For a moment, he seemed ready to refuse, then he didn't quite stomp his foot, but snarled. ''Do what you have to, Captain.''
A nod to the Command Master Chief immediately had him shouting, ''Squadron.''
''Ship,'' echoed, followed by ''Divisions.''
''Order. Arms.'' Nearly a thousand rifle butts struck the pavement at once. ''Parade. Rest.'' A thousand booted feet stomped down.
Well, at least one side followed orders. Kris turned to her side of the square. ''Put those safeties back on,'' she shouted, ''and those rifles down. Don't go away, but for God's sake, let's not have any more accidents.''
A low murmur swept the yard. Behind Kris, sailors looked around, measured the level of noise, and frowned worriedly.
''You do have a thousand rifles out there,'' Captain Slovo whispered behind his hand to Kris.
''Give or take a few hundred.''
''I have more machine guns,'' Hank insisted.
''Maybe,'' Kris said, conceding nothing.
Captain Slovo turned to the gunny sergeant. ''Please advise your commander that we are standing down. Have him withdraw his Marines back a row of businesses and hold himself in readiness.''
''Aye aye, sir,'' the Marine saluted, and double-timed off.
''Now, shall we talk in private?'' Kris said.
''I won't enter any terrorist's lair.''
''Good. How about walking halfway over to the Fire Training Center. They teach people to fight fires,'' Kris added drolly.
Ron and Gassy came out the glass doors, giving Hank a good view of a machine gun aimed right at him, as Kris lead them toward the Fire Center.
''I will not be intimidated,'' Hank said.
''Fine. We're not trying to,'' Kris said.
They met in the middle. ''I want my men back,'' Hank snarled.
''I want to know who raped our coeds,'' the mayor snapped.
''My men did no such thing.''
''Good, then you won't mind us taking swabs from every mouth.''
''I will not have my men's privacy violated.''
The two men glared at each other.
''How about the mayor agrees to give you back your sailors and you agree to leave this planet?'' Kris said.
''Kris, my police have two fully worked up rape kits. We have the DNA of the men who did this. It doesn't match any in our files. It likely came from off planet. I want justice for my women. Don't you?'' That hit Kris in the gut. She'd never been raped. Not yet. Her idea of what to do to a rapist started with a rope and ended with him dead. Still. Here? Now?
''So, what do you want to do, Ron, go back to where we were a few minutes ago and see who has the last gunner standing?''
''That's fine with me,'' Hank snapped. ''We will prevail.''
''Don't be so sure. I've got grenadiers ready to barbecue your launches. And with all your men dirtside, Lieutenant Kovar would easily take your ships. Even if you win here, you've lost. This sally was not well planned, Captain Slovo. Very sloppy.''
''Some might say so.''
Kris turned back to Ron. ''How high a price are you willing to pay to get those rapists?''
Ron turned slowly to take in every part of the square; sailors, his riflemen, the machine gunners. He gritted his teeth and turned back to Kris. ''Not that high a price. No, I can't.''
''Are you willing to give up the sailors in your jail with no further judicial proceedings?'' Kris said.
''If they are not identified by their fellow sailors, yes.''
''No, I will not leave any of my men behind,'' Hank shot back.
''You would defend rapists,'' Ron roared, and moved in on Hank.
Hank whipped his saber out, not expertly, but well enough to almost take Ron's nose off. Made Kris glad for once her breasts weren't any farther out. ''I will defend my sailors,'' he shouted.
Someone must have given Hank the five-second lecture on loyalty up in return for loyalty down. ''Ron?'' Kris said.
''I never want to see a Greenfeld ship docking at High Chance again. If one comes, we will not let it hitch on. You hear me?''
''I'm sorry you feel that way, Ron. I thought we were friends,'' the commodore said diffidently, sheathing his sword.
Kris pushed Ron back as he lunged for his fellow alumni. ''This is settled, Mayor. Let it stay settled.''
''Go and don't come back.''
''That will take some arranging,'' Hank said, turning to Kris. ''Lieutenant, I assume you will stand pledge for this agreement.''
''As Princess Kristine Longknife, I will assure that you get your sailors back, based on the promise given me by Mayor Torn,'' Kris said, biting out each word.
''Very good. Captain, arrange matters with the good lieutenant. I and the chief are leaving.''
''You will have all your shuttles tied up returning these troops to your ships for now, won't you, Captain?''
''Yes,'' Slovo agreed. Kris noticed that Hank had withdrawn far enough to nod to the Command Master Chief who began marching the men off, but the commodore stayed well within earshot of whatever agreement was being made in his name.
''I would suggest you send ten launches down when you are ready to depart. I believe I can arrange for them to be launched as you are departing from the piers.''
''You allow the first launch to take off and I will have the flagship undock,'' Captain Slovo said.
''With luck, we can have the last launch heading down the runway as your last ship cuts loose from the last tie-down.''
The captain looked over his shoulder; the commodore nodded. ''Agreed, Your Highness,'' he said, and saluted Kris. She returned the honor. Chief Meindl stepped over to stand beside Flag Captain Slovo and saluted. They turned and joined their commodore.
The sailors marched off by divisions. Kris watched until they were well on their way, then sent Jack up the tower to keep the watch. A cheer started. ''Stow it,'' Kris commanded. ''This isn't over until it's over. Gassy, you might want to visit with your NCOs or whatever you have. Get that message across. This situation isn't over until the last lander is off the ground.''
Gassy glanced at his boss. ''Do it,'' Ron said, and the cop trotted off as ordered.