"I'm not as good a talker as most of you," Egor began hesitantly, "but there's something I've got to tell you about. Something that affects all of us in this room."

He paused for a moment, frowning as if trying to choose his next words.

"Most of you know Whitey," he said at last. "She was captain of the Raven before Pepe. She's an old friend of mine, and I kept in touch with her after she left the fleet and settled on Elei. I've found out... well, she's dead."

There was a moment of stunned silence. Then everyone tried to talk at once. Pepe was on his feet, his face pale and drawn, trying to say something to Egor, but his words were lost in the clamor.

Despite his own shock at hearing the news, Tambu's mind was churning with suspicion. Why hadn't Egor informed him of this sooner? More important, why had he chosen now to make his announcement?

Egor was holding his hands up now, motioning for quiet. Slowly, the other conversations subsided as the captains turned to listen.

"What is particularly important," he continued, "is not the fact that Whitey's dead, but rather how she died. The Defense Alliance killed her. One of the Alliance ships visited Elei, and someone told its crew that Whitey used to be with our fleet. They went to her home, dragged her out in the street, and hung her. There was no formal arrest by the Elei authorities, no trial, nothing! Just a lynch mob--a Defense Alliance lynch mob!"

Tambu frowned at the ugly sounds coming from the assembled captains, but Egor wasn't finished yet.

"How do I know?" he called in answer to one of the many questions shouted from the group. "I'll tell you how I know. The Scorpion was there! We were there at Elei!"

His words stilled the rising babble like a bucket of water tossed on a fire. All eyes were on him as he turned to stare at the viewscreen.

"The Scorpion was orbiting Elei when the Alliance ship arrived," he announced coldly. "Under orders, we withdrew rather than put up a fight. When we returned later, we found out about Whitey."

Tambu bowed his head as the icy rage in Egor's words washed over him. It was obvious that Egor blamed Tambu personally for Whitey's death.

Egor continued, "Unfortunately, my crew heard about it first when they went planetside. I had to exert every bit of discipline and authority at my command to keep them from retaliating against Elei for what the Alliance had done. What's more, I've blocked them from meeting or communicating with the crews from any other ship. It wasn't a popular thing to do, but I felt it was necessary to keep the story from spreading through the fleet before we could discuss it here at the meeting.''

Egor faced the other captains, inadvertently turning his back on the viewscreen.

"Well, we're at the meeting now," he growled, "and the question I want to put before the assembled captains is: what are we going to do about it? How long are we going to let the Defense Alliance push us around before we push back?"

A chorus of angry shouts answered his challenge. Tambu gritted his teeth. Egor was showing an unsuspected talent as a rabble rouser. The captains were teetering on the brink of an emotional commitment the fleet could ill afford. Tambu would have to move now if he was to maintain control of the meeting.

"Order!" he barked. "Order, or I'll adjourn the meeting right now! Order!"

Grudgingly, the captains complied. One by one, they returned to their seats, but their faces were tense and expectant as they stared at the viewscreen. Tambu knew they were barely holding their emotions in check. He considered his words carefully.

"Egor," he said after the noise had subsided, "I can only say that I share your grief-as I'm sure all the captains do. Whitey was liked and respected by all who knew her, as a captain and a friend." He paused and took a deep breath before continuing.

"However," he added in a harsher tone, "I must also say as the chairman of this meeting that what you say has no bearing at all on the subject under discussion."

Heads snapped up, but he pressed on.

"Whitey was no longer with our fleet, and therefore outside our sphere of protection. I personally offered to establish her in a location where her past would be unknown, but she refused. She chose instead to live among people who knew her as a fleet captain. She knew the risk, but make her decision anyway. The fact that she lost her personal gamble should have no bearing on the policies or decision of the fleet."

The room was staring at him out of the viewscreen, but no one seemed to be in violent disagreement.

"As such," Tambu concluded, "if you're finished-"

"I'm not finished!" Egor cried.

"Very well," Tambu sighed. "Continue."

"Since you only want to talk about the fleet," Egor glared, "we will forget about Whitey. Fine. Let's talk about the Scorpion and ships like her who are supposed to follow your orders. We were driven away from Elei by an Alliance ship without firing so much as one shot--following your orders. Speaking for myself, my crew, and the rest of the fleet, I want to know why. I can accept not chasing Alliance ships, but why do we have to run?"

Tambu asked, "When you left Elei, were there other planets unpatrolled by ships of either fleet?"

"Of course," Egor nodded. "With so many planets and so few ships, there are always unpatrolled planets."

"Then I'll ask you a question of my own. You ask, 'Why run?' I ask you, 'Why fight?' To protect the planet? The Alliance won't attack them. To protect yourself? They never fired a shot at you. To keep the revenues of the planet? Why bother when there are so many other planets that can replace it?"

Tambu leaned back and sighed.

"What it boils down to, Egor, is that you want to fight because of your pride. You don't want to back down to anyone, anywhere, anytime. That's pride. Now I ask you: do you think it's right to risk not just your life, but your ship and the lives of your crew in a fight that could have been avoided? How much is your pride worth to you?"

Egor flushed and sat down, still angry, but unable to reply.

"Thank you, captain. Now, if we could hear from-"

"I smell a rat!"

There was no mistaking the diminutive figure standing on a chair in the middle of the assemblage.

"I never thought I'd see you climb on a chair to avoid a rat," Tambu observed attempting a joke. "Sit down, A.C."

"I have something to ask," she called back defiantly.

"I said I would not tolerate any outbursts or interruptions, and I meant it! Now sit down!"

A.C. hesitated, then dropped back into her seat.

"Thank you. Now then, Jelly? Would you like to say something at this time?"

The old man half-rose.

"I'd rather yield the floor to Ms. A.C.," he announced.

A titter ran through the group, and Tambu knew he was outmaneuvered.

"Very well," he said politely, trying to salvage his dignity. "A.C.? I believe you had some comments?"

"I have an observation and a question. The observation is that we're being flimflammed! Flimflammed, bamboozled, and hustled! What's more, the one doing the hustling is none other than our own beloved chairman!"

She leveled an accusing finger at the viewscreen, and the assemblage turned to stare.

"No offense, boss," she called. "But I've sat through a lot of these meetings, and I know your style. If this is a free discussion, then I'm Mickey Mouse. You're playing divide-and-conquer games with the meeting, and it's about time you admitted it. By controlling who speaks and in what order, you're choosing what arguments you want to hear and when. Then, after forbidding anyone else to interrupt, you use your position as chair to interrupt as often as you want with questions or observations. You're taking our arguments one at a time and carving them up. That's not your normal style, but that's what you're doing."