Captain Merker had turned an alarming shade of puce and sputtered incoherently. Venizelos simply cocked his head and waited with undiminished courtesy while he got his vocal apparatus unjammed.

“Goddamn it! I’ve been making this run for five T-years,” the captain finally roared, “and this is the first time some tight-assed little faggot in a pretty uniform’s boarded my ship and ordered me to heave to for inspection! I’ll see you damned first, by God!”

“Perhaps, Sir,” Venizelos said, allowing his smile to fade, “but if you choose to refuse inspection, you will be denied transit rights.”

“And how the fuck do you think you’re going to stop me, pretty boy?” Merker sneered.

“By firing into your ship if you attempt to transit,” Venizelos said, and there was no give at all in his ice-cold voice.

The merchant skipper stopped in mid-sneer and gave the slightly-built lieutenant an incredulous stare.

“That would be an act of war!”

“On the contrary, Sir, it would be a simple exercise of the municipal police power in Manticoran space in strict accordance with recognized interstellar law.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Merker said in a more conversational tone. “You’re bluffing.”

“I am an officer of the Royal Manticoran Navy, Sir—” Venizelos felt an undeniable rush of adrenaline and pleasure as he faced the burly captain squarely “—and the Royal Manticoran Navy does not ‘bluff.’ ”

He held the Havenite officer’s eye steadily, and the captain’s choler cooled visibly. He dropped his eyes to scowl at the deck for just a moment, then shrugged angrily. “Oh, suit yourself!”

“Uh, Captain Merker?” The freighter’s purser, who had stood silent throughout the exchange, looked undeniably anxious.

“Well, what is it?” Merker growled.

“Well, Sir, it’s just that I think—That is, I’m afraid there may be a few, um, errors in our manifest.” Sweat dotted the purser’s forehead as his harassed captain turned his scowl on him. “I’m, ah, certain they were, er, simple oversights,” he continued. “I can—I mean, my staff and I can clear them up and be ready for inspection in, um, two or three hours? Sir?”

He stared at his captain appealingly, and Merker’s face began to congest with fury once more. Venizelos observed its color with interest and cleared his throat.

“Ah, excuse me, Captain Merker?” The captain whirled on him with clenched fists, and the lieutenant shrugged apologetically. “I can certainly understand how these little accidents happen, Sir, and I’m entirely willing to allow your purser time to straighten out his records. Unfortunately, that will mean that your ship will lose its place in the outbound queue, and I’m afraid we probably won’t be able to get back around to you until sometime tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow morning!” Merker exploded. “You mean I have to cool my heels in this misbegotten rat hole of a—!” He chopped himself off and gave the hapless purser a deadly glare, then turned back to Venizelos with a snarl. “All right! If I have to, I have to, but my embassy on Manticore is going to hear about this, Lieutenant!”