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them. She smiled at Yeoman Moirrey Kermode to welcome her. There wouldn’t be any fireworks, theatrical or otherwise hopefully, today, but her regional expertise would be invaluable for other reasons.
    The various faces around the table nodded back as Jessica sipped her coffee.
    “We’re sitting at the edge of the Ramsey system right now, at the capital of Lincolnshire ,” she informed them, “and, contrary to a combat jump, I plan to stay here for a few hours. After that, we’ll head in on the normal transit lanes, like we were a freighter convoy, to give them time to prepare. It’s not that they won’t welcome us, but they don’t know we’re coming.”
    “How long will this port call last, commander?” d’Maine asked. He was a serious, almost dour man, on a cramped little warship. He never complained about the conditions on Rajput , but she knew a few extra days shore leave would do his crew well, especially if they were going to be in back end of beyond for a while.
    “I’m not sure,” Jessica said simply. This was one of the few times that command did not demand decisive solutions on the fly. “ Lincolnshire is nominally an ally of the Republic, and we’re coming in response to a direct request for aid, so we’ll play it by ear. There really isn’t even that much information available about this sector of space, beyond simple sailing directions and the usual political map, so I’ve asked Moirrey Kermode to join us today to answer whatever questions you have.”
    She nodded to the little raven–haired engineer with a smile. “Perhaps a little background?”
    “Aye, ma’am,” Moirrey replied. “First off, Lincolnshire is much less organized than Aquitaine .” She pronounced the word Link’nsheer with a soft burr as she spoke. “And very much more poor than the great fine folks of the Republic. Worlds out here is few an’ far between, and pirates–r–common, both the formal kind and the neighbors.”
    “You mean Salonnia and Corynthe ?” Denis asked.
    “Aye, sir,” Moirrey growled, “the first one’s a bunch o’ businessmen thugs, and th’ other’s ruled by the King of the Pirates.”
    “Seriously? Sir?” Enej amended himself quickly. “King of the Pirates?”
    “That is correct, Zivkovic,” Jessica said. “According to the records, it is an old title, dating back several centuries. The worlds out on the fringe of the galaxy are very rough places, ruled by hard men. They rarely die peacefully of old age. Hopefully, we won’t have to deal with those folks.”
    “Are they likely to be behind the troubles?” Kigali asked. CR–264 was an escort, built for exactly this sort of thing. Most of the rest of her original class of Revenue Cutters had been decommissioned but not sent to the wrecker, according to Jessica’s research, and many had instead ended up in places like Lincolnshire , having been sold out of service.
    “It’s possible,” Jessica replied. “Our orders are to work with the locals. They asked for a hammer big enough to crack a tough nut, and the First Lord sent us. Questions?”
    “What about docking, sir?” d’Maine asked. “Sensors show a very small station in orbit.”
    “You are correct,” she said. “We’ll drop into a high orbit, above the usual traffic, and ferry things up and down with the shuttles. It will give the crews practice, and keep my pilots from getting bored.”
    “Wow,” Enej said. “We really are out in the backwoods.”
    “Jes’ ye wait,” Moirrey chimed in with an evil grin, “until you sees how the supplies be delivered.”

Chapter V
    Date of the Republic September 24, 393 City of Landing, Ramsey
    Jessica walked down the landing ramp to the big crimson DropShip, Cayenne , and marveled again at what kind of person would paint an Assault Shuttle bright red. The pilot, Hollis Dyson, generally known as Gaucho , was in a category of his own. According to him, red ones went faster.
    Along with shuttles from CR–264 and Rajput