{"product_id":"marque-and-reprisal-isbn-9780345447593","title":"Marque and Reprisal","description":"\u003cb\u003e“An utterly satisfying adventure . . . In Kylara Vatta, Moon has created another tough and complex heroine.”—Scifi\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThough the exciting military career she hoped for never materialized, Ky Vatta still sees plenty of combat. An unknown adversary has launched a full-throttle offensive against Vatta Transport Ltd., Ky’s father’s interstellar shipping empire—killing most of Ky’s family. Fighting for her very survival, Ky is determined to avenge her family’s deaths. Teaming up with a band of stranded mercenaries, her black-sheep cousin Stella, and Stella’s roguish ex-lover, Ky struggles to penetrate the tangled web of political intrigue that surrounds the attacks. Amid suspicion and deception, she is prepared to take whatever measures are necessary to ensure that Vatta stays in business. What she’s not prepared for is the shocking truth behind the terror— and a confrontation with murderous treachery. . . . \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003ePraise for \u003ci\u003eMarque and Reprisal\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“The intrigue-filled plot lends a marque of distinction.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eEntertainment Weekly\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Excellent plotting and characters support the utterly realistic action sequences: swift, jolting, [and] merciless.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eKirkus Reviews\u003c\/i\u003e (starred review) \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“A gripping, action-packed book.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eOmaha World-Herald\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e“An utterly satisfying adventure . . . In Kylara Vatta, Moon has created another tough and complex heroine.”\u003cb\u003e—Scifi\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“The intrigue-filled plot lends a marque of distinction.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eEntertainment Weekly\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Excellent plotting and characters support the utterly realistic action sequences: swift, jolting, [and] merciless.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eKirkus Reviews\u003c\/i\u003e (starred review) \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“A gripping, action-packed book.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eOmaha World-Herald\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cb\u003eElizabeth Moon\u003c\/b\u003e grew up on the Texas border, served three years of active duty in the USMC (1968–71), and now lives with her husband, also a veteran, near Austin, Texas. She has published more than twenty-five novels, including Nebula Award winner \u003ci\u003eThe Speed of Dark, \u003c\/i\u003eHugo finalist \u003ci\u003eRemnant Population,\u003c\/i\u003e and the enduring epic fantasy series The Chronicles of Paksenarrion. She has published more than fifty short-fiction pieces in anthologies and magazines and in four of her own short-fiction collections, most recently \u003ci\u003eMoon Flights \u003c\/i\u003eand\u003ci\u003e Deeds of Honor\u003c\/i\u003e. When not writing, Moon enjoys photographing native plants and wildlife, knitting socks, and cooking.CHAPTER ONE\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eKylara Vatta looked at the mass of paperwork from Belinta's Economic  Development Bureau and sighed. The real life of a tradeship captain:  paperwork and more paperwork, negotiation with shippers, customers,  Customs officials. The life she hadn't wanted, when she chose to  enter the Slotter Key Spaceforce Academy, and the life she had fallen  back into when she was expelled. Boring. Mundane.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNot that her recent experiences in Sabine had been boring or  mundane--terrifying was more like it--and no one would want another  trip like that.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eExcept that she did. She remembered very clearly the rush of  excitement, the soaring glee of the fight itself, the guilty delight  when she'd killed Paison and Kristoffson. So either she wasn't sane  or...or nothing. She thought of the diamonds tucked into her  underwear drawer. Not enough to restore her old tub of a ship  completely, but enough to take her to somewhere else, somewhere she  could make the kind of life she really wanted. Perhaps the  mercenaries would accept her violent tendencies; they'd offered a  chance. Perhaps someone else. It would annoy her family, but not as  much as the truth would hurt them.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNo. She had to finish one job at least. Crew depended on her. The  ship belonged to her family, as well, and she could not possibly earn  enough to buy it away by the next stop or the next. She sighed again,  signed another sheet, and stared at the next. All right, then. Take  this old tub to Leonora, deliver that cargo, then to Lastway. If she  couldn't finance a refit by then, return to the original plan and go  home by commercial passenger ship. If she made enough profit, enough  to do the refit, she could get that done and bring the ship back to  Slotter Key, and then resign. Or--she stared into a distance far  beyond her cabin bulkhead. She could send the ship back with someone  else. Quincy, for instance, knew enough to run the ship herself.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn the long run, her family would be better off without her. If her  father knew how she'd felt when she killed...no. She had had those  nightmares, trying to explain to that gentle man, hoping for his  understanding but seeing the horror in his face. Better the  smothering, overprotective love that had annoyed her in their last  conversation than that horror, that disgust, that rejection. If she  went home, he would sense something; he would try to probe, try to  get her to confide in him, and eventually he would wear her down. It  would be worse than anything else that had happened, to have her  father sorry she was ever born.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe should just go away. Years later, maybe, she might be able to  explain it to him, and he might be able to accept it. Years might put  a safe skin on the raw truth of what she was.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe worked her way through the rest of the forms, then decided to  take them to the local postal drop herself. Belinta Station had few  amenities, but a walk would be refreshing in itself.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Quincy--I'm going to drop the paperwork off,\" she said into the  ship's intercom.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Find anything to load, or do you want us to start transferring what  we left in storage?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"I haven't found anything yet,\" Ky said. \"I may have to go downside  for that. Go on and load...see if you can get some of the station  dockworkers to help with that. Usual rates and all.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe glanced at herself in the mirror and decided she was presentable  enough. She needed a new uniform--the one she had left after Sabine  no longer had the crisp, perfect tailoring her mother had paid  for--but only if she was staying with Vatta. If she joined a  mercenary company, she would wear its uniform; if she stayed  independent, she'd have to find one of her own design. But to drop  off forms to be transmitted to a bureaucracy, gray tunic and slacks  should be sufficient. She clipped on the Belinta Station access pass.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOutside the ship, Belinta Station hardly bustled with activity. Only  three ships were in dock, and the other two were insystem haulers  servicing Belinta's meager satellite mining operations. On their own  dockside, Quincy was talking to a burly man in the ubiquitous green  tunic of Belinta dockworkers. Beeah, beside her, held a compad ready  to record employee data if Quincy's negotiations were successful. Ky  walked briskly past two men chatting on a bench, a woman standing by  a lift entrance, barely restraining a bouncing toddler, the faded ads  for Belinta's few and unenticing tourist resorts, and turned left  into the wide main corridor. Here were the currency exchanges, banks,  communications services--local and ansible--Belinta Port Authority,  the hiring hall, and, finally, the postal service. Midshift, few  others were in sight. Someone with a briefcase just going into  Belinta Savings \u0026amp; Loan, two women chatting as they emerged from  Allsystems Exchange.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBeyond were rows of blanked openings to spaces that would someday, if  Belinta proved prosperous, house more services, more stores, more  people. No traffic at all moved down there.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eKy turned into the postal service's entrance and walked up to the  counter where a display read NOW SERVING NUMBER SIX EIGHTY-TWO. The  only clerk in sight did not look up, but said, \"Take a number.\"  Typical Belintan courtesy, Ky thought, and looked around for the  number generator. By the entrance. She pulled the tab; the counter  display changed to NOW SERVING SIX EIGHTY-THREE and the clerk said,  \"Number six eighty-three!\" in an annoyed tone, as if she'd kept him  waiting.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"This is all for the Economic Development Bureau,\" Ky said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"To whose attention?\" asked the clerk.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"It doesn't matter. Just the EDB.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"It has to be directed to an individual,\" the clerk said. \"You can't  send mail to the whole bureau.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"It says on the form,\" Ky said, pointing to the block under RETURN  TO. \"No name, just the bureau.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"It has to have a name,\" the clerk said. \"It's the rules. All mail to  government agencies must be directed to an individual.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eKy was tempted to make up a name. Instead, she said, \"Do you have a directory?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Customers are not allowed to use our confidential directories or  communications devices,\" the clerk intoned. \"This is a security  issue. Customers are advised to identify the correct recipient prior  to arriving in the postal service office. Next, please.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eKy glanced behind her. No one stood in line. \"It wouldn't take a  moment to look it up.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Next, please.\" The clerk still wasn't looking at her. Ky wanted to  reach across the counter and wring his skinny neck, but that was the  impulse of a moment. This was part of being a tradeship captain; this  was the kind of senseless, ridiculous, annoying nonsense she could  expect.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Fine,\" she said instead. \"I'll deliver it myself.\" After all, she  had to go downside anyway, to find out if there was any cargo worth  carrying from this wretched planet.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Glad to be of service have a nice day,\" the clerk said all in one breath.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eKy went back the way she'd come, past the corridor that led to the  docking area, past Goodtime Eats and Jerry's Real Food and  Quick-snack, where the two women she'd seen earlier were head to head  over a small table, to the ticket office for the shuttle service. She  could not remember just when the daily service left--\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Two and a half hours,\" the clerk said. \"Be at the boarding area a  half hour before departure.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThat gave time to go back to her ship and change. She turned to go  but a screech from the PA system stopped her. \"What's that?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"I don't know,\" the clerk said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Stay wherever you are,\" a bone-shaking voice said. \"All personnel  stay wherever you are. Emergency crews one and two, to dockside on  the double. All personnel...\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"My ship!\" Ky said. \"I have to get back--\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut the ticket office entrance was closed, the metal grate locking  with a final chung even as she moved toward it.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"You heard 'em,\" the clerk said. \"We're all supposed to stay put.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Well, I can't,\" Ky said. \"Open that thing.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Can't,\" the clerk said. \"It's automatic, like section seals. Station  Security controls it. Unless you've got the override code like one of  the emergency crews...\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe PA announcement had stopped. Fifteen minutes later, the grate  slid back into its slot, squeaking a little. \"Return to normal  activity,\" the PA said. \"All personnel return to normal activity.\"  Still no announcement of what had prompted the lockdown. Ky hurried  back to the docking area. She saw nothing unusual except a Station  Security officer standing near Gary Tobai's open hold bay talking to  Quincy.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"What was that about?\" she asked, coming up to them.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Nothing to concern you, madam,\" said the officer. \"Please stand away.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"It's the captain,\" Quincy said, just as Ky said, \"It's my ship; it  concerns me.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Oh.\" The man looked confused. \"You're not in uniform.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"It needs cleaning,\" Ky said. \"Here's my tag.\" She held it out, and  he scanned it. \"What happened?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"We believe an attempt was made to rob your ship,\" the man said.  \"Individuals known to us as of dubious character were hired to move  cargo, and this individual\"--he nodded at Quincy--\"noticed something  untoward with one of the containers and challenged the individual  transporting it, suspecting that a substitution had been made. Two  individuals ran away; this individual called the alarm.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTheft by casual dockside labor was a constant threat, Ky knew. \"Did  you catch them?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"They have not been apprehended yet,\" the officer said. \"They made it  to the unoccupied spaces. We are confiscating this container, which  they tried to put aboard, and we are searching for the legitimate  container your crewmember reports missing.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"I'm sure you'll take care of things,\" Ky said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"We will find you here?\" the man asked.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"No,\" Ky said. \"I must go downside to deliver reports to your  government. My shuttle leaves--\" She checked the time. \"Sorry, I must  hurry. Quincy will serve as my agent for the duration of my visit  down. All right, Quincy?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe old woman nodded. \"I can do that. Will you be buying cargo?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Quite possibly. I expect to be downside a few days. I'll keep in  touch.\" Ky hurried into the ship. She put on her remaining uniform  with the formal captain's cape and made two quick calls to arrange  lodging at the Captains' Guild and an escort to meet her at the  downside shuttle terminal. She hesitated, then put several of the  diamonds in her pocket. She didn't expect anything to cut off her  access to Vatta resources, but just in case, it couldn't hurt to have  hard currency.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe made her shuttle connection with a few minutes to spare, and rode  downside with a mixed lot of Belinta station workers going home for  the weekend break. She cataloged them automatically--clerical,  clerical, equipment operator, service worker--and wondered why she  bothered. It was the same mix she could find anywhere across the  galaxy, no duller here than elsewhere. She spotted her escort at the  passenger exit and they exchanged the passwords and ID checks,  another familiar routine. The ride into the city passed fields  striped with a more vivid green than Belintans ever wore. She  recognized the machine working its way across one of the fields as  one she'd delivered from Sabine, and felt a surge of satisfaction. If  she could learn to appreciate the good done by the cargoes she  transported, if she could see things from that angle, maybe.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eGerard Avondetta Vatta watched as his pilot loaded his small case in  the light plane. They would be back in the city by nightfall; he and  Stavros would have a working dinner, and tomorrow he would tackle the  delicate political tangle still left by his daughter's abrupt  departure from the Academy. Now that she was out of danger, now that  he had seen her face, had spoken to her, his attention had returned  to the reasons behind the obvious reasons.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhy had a Miznarii complained about religious discrimination in the  Academy? Miznarii were a difficult sect, to be sure, but they'd  served in the Slotter Key Spaceforce for the past thirty years or so  without any problems he knew of. And why had Ky been chosen as the  vehicle? Her habit of helping lame dogs made her gullible, of course,  and yet it did not quite satisfy him. She was a naturally generous  person, yes, but he had noticed a streak of hardness in her that  boded well for her survival in the cutthroat world of interstellar  shipping. When she came back, it might be time to tell her a few  things not in the basic Vatta database her implant contained.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe Miznarii...were they part of the resurgence of anti-humod feeling  some of the Vatta captains had reported? They were certainly  foundational purists who refused even the most common enhancements  and modifications, such as cranial implants, but he hadn't heard they  bothered with offplanet politics. Besides, Ky had little exposure to  humods; she could hardly be a target for anti-humod bias.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThen there was InterStellar Communications. Vatta had supported ISC  all along, and he fully appreciated what ISC had done for Ky at  Sabine, but he wondered if its judgment matched its power. He'd tried  to say something about that to Lew Parminer, the last time Lew  visited, but Lew had shrugged off his concerns. \"We pay our  researchers enough to keep them quiet,\" he'd said. \"No muzzling the  ox that treads the grain, you know.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eStill...there were other sources of wealth in the galaxy. Some who  would be willing to pay almost any price for the secrets of ISC's  labs. Some already funding research, he was sure, trying to duplicate  the secrets of ISC's technology, or trying to advance it. The attack  on the ansible platforms at Sabine had been crude, but to Gerard's  mind clearly a test. How strong was ISC, and how fast could it  respond?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe pirates, too...the information from Sabine was disturbing. An  alliance of pirates? Of their agents in legitimate firms? And how did  that work? Vatta had thousands of employees on dozens of ships, more  dozens of support offices. Was one of them a traitor, feeding  information to pirates? So far, the pirates had concentrated on  smaller shippers, driving several out of business. According to the  Captains' Guild figures--if they were accurate--the largest shippers  hadn't been hit. But that wouldn't last, he was sure. They would run  out of easy targets, and move on to take other prey. The great  merchant companies, Vatta among them, had never persuaded the  planetary governments that their trade served to combine and create a  true interstellar space force capable of policing the spaceways. ISC  had the resources, but refused to use them for anything but  maintaining its own assets.Nebula Award-winning author of The Speed of Dark and Trading in Danger \"The intrigue-filled plot lends a marque of distinction.\" --Entertainment Weekly","brand":"Del Rey","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46302423351525,"sku":"NP9780345447593","price":9.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780345447593.jpg?v=1767732280","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/marque-and-reprisal-isbn-9780345447593","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}