"Yer pokin' fun at me," Cowbody declared, drawing himself proudly erect. "We're supposed to be protectin' the planets, not attackin' them. That's our job."
"Forgive me," Tambu apologized sarcastically. "My mind must be slipping. I wrote the contract we use with the planets, but obviously I've forgotten an important part of that agreement. Could you refresh my memory? Just what part of that agreement says that chasing and destroying the Defense Alliance is part of our job?"
Cowboy dropped his eyes uncomfortably.
"We're-we're supposed to fight against pirates," he murmured lamely.
"Are you saying the Alliance is actually a band of pirates?" Tambu pressed mercilessly. "No one's reported this to me before. That changes everything. Tell me, though, which merchant ships have they attacked? I'll need that information for my records."
Cowboy shook his head silently, not looking up.
"I see," Tambu said at last. "Thank you for your comments, Cowboy. Ratso? Do you have anything to add to the discussion?"
He was careful to use Ramona's fleet name, but her response caught him totally unaware.
"I yield the floor to Captain Egor," she announced without rising.
A murmur of surprise ran through the assemblage. Egor had never spoken before at a captains' meeting.
"Very well," Tambu managed, recovering himself. "Egor?"
The big man rose slowly to his feet and surveyed the room carefully before he spoke. Tambu tried to read the expression on his old friend's face, but found he could not. The only thing he could say for certain was that Egor looked older.
"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.