“Thank you, Citizen Commodore,” he replied with a graciousness as false as her own, and cut the com link.

Citizen Lieutenant Commander Heathrow sat up in bed when the com warbled at him. The CO and XO of a courier boat were the only members of its complement who actually had cabins to themselves, which was a luxury beyond price. Unfortunately, the designers had been forced to squeeze those cabins into an oddly shaped section where the hull narrowed dramatically towards the after impeller ring, with the result that the curved deckhead offered barely sixty centimeters of headroom above Heathrow’s bunk. Under normal circumstances, it was second nature to remember that and allow for it when getting up. He had a tendency to forget when awakened in the middle of the night, however, and he yelped as his skull smacked into the deckhead.

Fortunately, the designers had padded it—presumably to avoid killing off captains in job lots. He smothered a curse as he rubbed the point of contact, but he hadn’t done himself any lasting damage, and he reached for the audio-only com key.

“Yes?” he growled.

“Sir, it’s Howard. I— Sir, we’ve got a problem up here, and I—”

The citizen ensign broke off, and the ache in Heathrow’s head was suddenly forgotten as he heard the barely suppressed panic in her voice. He could actually hear her breathing—she sounded as if she was about to go into hyperventilation any moment—and he slammed the visual key.

Howard blinked as her skipper’s bare-chested image appeared on her screen. It was highly irregular for the citizen lieutenant to accept a visual com connection out of uniform, and the fact that he’d overlooked the minor consideration that he slept in his briefs, not pajamas, added to the irregularity, but vast relief bloomed in her eyes as she recognized the supportive concern in his expression.

“What’s wrong, Irene?” he asked, racking his brain for possible answers to his own question even as he spoke. But nothing came to him. After all, what could be wrong sitting here in Danak orbit?

“Sir, it’s Groundside,” Howard said. “I told them we didn’t have any— But they wouldn’t listen, and now Citizen Colonel Therret says Citizen General Chernock himself is— But I don’t have any more traffic for them, Sir! I sent it all down yesterday, when we arrived! So—”

“Hold it. Hold it, Irene!” Heathrow managed to sound soothing and firm and commanding all at the same time, though he wasn’t quite certain how he’d pulled it off. Howard slithered to a stop, staring at him pleadingly, and he drew a deep calming breath. For both of them, he thought wryly.

“All right,” he said then. “I want you to begin at the beginning. Don’t get excited. Don’t run ahead. Don’t assume that I know anything at all about whatever is going on. Just tell me what’s happened step by step, okay?”

“Yes, Sir.” Howard made herself sit back and took a visible grip on herself. Then she, too, inhaled deeply and began in a voice of determined calm.