“I see.” Gruber looked back down at the plot.

“I realize I’m taking a chance shadowing a destroyer,” Bachfisch said softly. “And I suppose it’s not fair to our people for me to be doing it in the interests of my own kingdom. None of them signed on to be Preston of the Spaceways. But I can’t just sit there and watch something like this happen.”

“I wouldn’t worry about the people, Skipper,” Gruber told him after a moment. “I don’t say they’re looking forward to any possible confrontations with the Peeps, but most of them have already figured out at least part of what you’re up to. And the truth is, Skip, that if you figure this is what we need to be doing, we’re all prepared to trust your judgment. You’ve gotten us into trouble a time or two, but you’ve always gotten us out the other side again.”

He looked up, and Bachfisch nodded in satisfaction at what he saw in the exec’s face.

· · • · ·

“That bogey is closing up on us a little, Sir.”

Lieutenant Commander Dumais, captain of the Trojan-class destroyer RHNS Hecate, cocked his head in an invitation for his tac officer to continue.

“I still can’t tell you exactly what it is,” Lieutenant Singleterry admitted. “Local h-space conditions are particularly bad just now. But it still looks like a merchie.”

“A merchie,” Dumais repeated, then shook his head. “I don’t question your judgment, Stephanie, but just what in Hell do you think a merchie would be doing following us around this way? Using us for cover against pirates, sure. But following us out into the middle of nowhere?”

“If I could tell you that, Skipper, then I’d be wasting my time in the Navy compared to the fortune I could be making choosing winning lottery numbers.” Singleterry shook her own head in turn. “All I can tell you for sure is that whoever this is, she’s been following along behind us ever since we left Horus. Well, that and the fact that she’s closed up by almost half a light-minute in the last six hours.”

“Hmmm.” Dumais frowned in thought. “You did say local sensor conditions are bad?”

“Yes, Sir. In fact, they pretty much suck, and they’re getting worse. Particle count is way up, and that grav eddy at three o’clock is funneling them straight over us.”

“In that case, I can think of two possible explanations for her behavior,” Dumais said. “The one I like better is that she is riding our heels as cover against pirates and she wants to stay close enough to be sure we’ll notice if anyone hits her.”

“And the other one is that she’s closing up to hold us on her own sensors?” Singleterry asked, then tugged at the lobe of her left ear as Dumais nodded. “I guess that might make sense. But that would suggest she really has been deliberately shadowing us.”

“Yes, it would,” Dumais agreed.

“Which brings me back to the question of why a merchant ship would be doing anything of the sort,” Singleterry said.