“I’m afraid we can,” Admiral Niall MacDonnell replied calmly. His expression, as his tone, was politely courteous, but it was also implacable. “Under the terms of our alliance with the Star Kingdom, units of the Grayson Navy have unlimited and unrestricted access to the Junction. I intend to exercise those options, and my message to you constitutes formal notification of that intention as per Article XII, Section 7, paragraph (c).”

“Not without clearing it ahead of time, you won’t!” Stokes shot back. The Astro Control CO glared at the image on his com screen.

“On the contrary,” MacDonnell corrected in that same, calm voice. “The treaty of alliance specifically provides for unannounced, emergency transits which take absolute priority over all routine traffic.”

“Emergency transits,” Stokes grated, “are one thing. Just turning up unannounced, sashaying into the middle of my transit patterns, and screwing an entire day’s work all to hell is another. I’m not about to interrupt the normal traffic through the Junction just to allow you to carry out some sort of training exercise, Admiral!”

“Yes, you are, Allen,” another voice said. Stokes’ mouth froze in the open position, then closed with an almost audible click as another officer leaned forward into the field of MacDonnell’s pickup. The newcomer wore the black-and-gold of the Royal Manticoran Navy, not the GSN’s blue-on-blue. His ice-blue eyes were hard, and he smiled thinly as he saw the stunned recognition in Stokes’ expression.

“Admiral MacDonnell,” Hamish Alexander said coldly and precisely, “is acting under the direct orders of High Admiral Matthews and Protector Benjamin, himself. He is requesting transit instructions in strict accordance with Article V of the treaty of alliance between the Star Kingdom of Manticore and the Grayson Protectorate. If you require it, I’m sure he will be most happy to transmit the relevant section of the treaty for your perusal. In the meantime, however, the first elements of his task force will be arriving at the Junction threshold in approximately twelve minutes. They will be anticipating an immediate departure, via the Junction, for Trevor’s Star. If they aren’t assigned priority transit vectors upon arrival, I suspect that the repercussions will be… interesting.”

Stokes’ face turned an intriguing shade of puce. His assignment to command Manticore Astro Control coincided with Baron High Ridge’s assumption of the premiership. ACS was a civil service organization, despite its military ranks, but it came under the authority of the Ministry of Trade. Like his colleague Janacek, at the Admiralty, the Earl of North Hollow had wielded a clean broom when he took over at Trade, and Stokes had been his handpicked choice for the Junction. Like many of North Hollow’s allies, he was not held in particularly high esteem by Earl White Haven. Nor had White Haven ever made any effort to conceal that fact.

“Look,” Stokes half-snarled, “I don’t really give a good goddamn about all of that crap! If you want to use the Junction, fine. But you’ll damned well take your own slot in the transit queue instead of coming through here and bumping anybody in your way!”