“No problem, Skip.”

“I’ll probably need to flag it to be sure the Old Lady and Admiral McKeon and Admiral Truman get a copy of it, too. If they’ve improved their EW as much as your cruiser captain seems to be suggesting…”

“Absolutely, Skip,” Harkness agreed, and nodded at the display, where Commander Baker had gotten his revamped attack formation organized and was closing in on his prey. “Might just turn out that having our boys and girls working out against first-string EW is an even better damned idea than you thought,” he said quietly.

Chapter Twenty-Three

“YOU know,” Erica Ferrero remarked to her bridge crew, “I’m getting really tired of these jokers.”

No one replied to her observation. In part that was because her tone suggested that anyone unwise enough to draw her ire at this particular moment might live to regret it. But that was only a relatively minor consideration, compared to the fact that every one of Jessica Epps’ bridge officers agreed with her.

“Do we have any particular idea just what they think they’re doing this time around, Shawn?” the captain continued.

“Actually, Skipper,” Lieutenant Commander Harris replied in a slightly hesitant voice, “I think I know exactly what they’re doing.”

Ferrero turned her command chair to face the tactical section and tilted her head in a “tell me more” gesture, and Harris shrugged.

“Unless I’m badly mistaken, Captain,” he said more formally, “they’re conducting a tracking exercise… on us.”

“Oh, they are, are they?” Ferrero’s conversational tone set alarm bells ringing inside most of her officers.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“And you think this because—?” the captain invited.

“Because they’re altering course and acceleration every time we make a helm change, Skipper,” Harris told her. “Whenever our vector changes, so does theirs. They’re running a constantly updated mirror course on us.”

“I don’t suppose they happened to inform us of their intentions and you simply neglected to tell me about it, Mecia?” Ferrero said dryly with a glance at her com officer.

“No, Ma’am,” Lieutenant McKee assured her.

“Somehow, I didn’t think so,” the captain replied.

It wasn’t uncommon for a warship to run sensor and tracking drills on merchantmen and even the warships of other navies. But common courtesy—and common sense, as well—mandated that one inform another warship when one intended to track and shadow her. Unless, of course, one’s intentions were less than friendly… which was the reason that practical-sense caution suggested that one request permission ahead of time. It was the only way to be certain of avoiding misunderstandings which could lead to unpleasant consequences, particularly at times when interstellar tensions were already running high.

“Any sign of active sensors?” she asked the tac officer after a moment.

“No, Ma’am.” It wasn’t as foolish a question as it might have sounded. Ferrero knew as well as Harris that they couldn’t possibly have been taking hits from any shipboard sensors at this range, but that wasn’t what she was asking about. “I’m not picking up any sign of remote platforms,” Harris continued, answering the question she’d really asked.