replaced by one incongruously light tread recognizable as that of MacKenzie James.

    At the entry to the bridge he paused, and called instructions to his mate and pilot. 'Go back to Marity and power up the coils. Syndicate's about reached Khalia by now, and when they find Duane there to give a hot welcome, I want to be gone from this system.'

Gibsen said something that rang with cheerful sarcasm.

    Then MacKenzie James strode across the metal floor plates, rounded the central bulkhead that divided the rear half of the bridge into two compartments, and ended by looking down at the commander still strapped to the central crew chair. He studied Jensen with an intensity that unnerved. For once, Mac's coil-scarred hands were still. A faded, much creased coverall covered his muscled shoulders, the cuffs unhooked and turned back where they'd bound at sinewed wrists through the hours of hanging in the wreckage waiting to spring the trap. Although the only one of Kildare's original crew without a gag, Jensen waited for the skip-runner to speak first.

    'Boy, the message torp giving the Syndicate war fleet's vector to Khalia went out under your codes. For that, your brass might overlook the fact that you were careless enough to get your ship boarded and stripped. If you've got the guts and the glibness to lay your story right.'

    Jensen regarded the captain he reviled with every fiber of his being. His career standing did not trouble him. That concern would arise later. Now, only one question burned to be answered. Staring into an expression like chipped granite, Jensen asked, 'Why should you send that message torp? You're not a man who does favors on principle.'

    Mac James gave back a rogue's grin that harbored little humor. 'Who else could have done the job and been ignored through the

passage of the entire Syndicate attack fleet?'Unsatisfied, Jensen said nothing.

    ]'he coil-scarred fingers flexed, one by one in succession with the familiarity of long-established habit. Mac James qualified on a note of dubious sincerity, 'Say I didn't want Khalia scragged.'

    'Did it have to do with your market for illicit weapons?' Jensen demanded, burningly fierce.

The most-wanted skip-runner captain in space awarded his

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