"I think I've heard enough discussion to reach a decision," he announced. "Until further notice, my orders on the matter are this: any incidents or complaints concerning fleet members and planetside citizenry are to be reviewed as individual isolated affairs and will be resolved in cooperation with planetside officials. While fleet members are allowed and expected to defend themselves if attacked, no retaliation in excess of the affront will be tolerated. Should there be any doubt as to the proper course of action in such an incident, or if a question arises as to interpretation of these orders, a priority call will be made to me so that I can personally guide the decision."
Tambu paused for a moment as he always did before concluding a ruling.
"Any captain who feels he cannot obey this order or enforce it within his crew rosters should signify it at this time. If a majority of captains so object, I will either reconsider my order or step down as fleet commander. If those objecting are in the minority, they will be removed from the rosters of the fleet. Those who do not object are thereby accepting the order and will be subject to discipline if it is breached. Dissenters, show yourselves at this time by standing."
There was a shifting of chairs as the captains craned their necks to look around the room, but no one stood.
"Very well. As the hour is late, I adjourn the meeting for today. I believe the Raven's crew has prepared refreshments for you, but remember, we reconvene tomorrow at 0800 hours, shiptime."
With that, he clicked off his console and sagged back in his chair. Though a decanter of wine was just a few steps away, he was too weary to fetch it. All energy seemed to drain out of him as soon as he adjourned the meeting.
He was suddenly aware that his shirt was drenched with sweat, and shook his head in dull recognition of the emotional output necessary to control these meetings. The fleet was a tiger--a multi-headed, multi-personalitied tiger. It would turn on the planets, on itself, or on him if he relaxed his control, however briefly. Like a wild-animal trainer, he only had his belief in his own goals and abilities to buoy him, and that only gave him limited control. If he tried to clamp down too hard, all hell would break loose.
Leaning back, he began to mentally review the arguments surrounding the fleet's planetside difficulties. He always did this after a major decision, probing for prejudices or hasty thought on his part, as well as any lingering resistance or resentment among the captains. Later, he would review the actual recordings of the meeting, but for the first pass he relied on his memory and impressions.
Cowboy's oration had been disappointing. His argument had supported Tambu's position of inaction, but in this case that support was annoying. From numerous arguments in the months prior to the meeting, Tambu knew that Cowboy personally favored retaliation, yet today he had spoken in favor of moderation.
A generous interpretation of the lanky captain's change of heart would be that his opinions had been over ruled by his crew, and that he was speaking today as their representative. A more probable explanation supported criticism voiced by both Ramona and Whitey as to the value of the yearly meetings.
They steadfastly maintained that most of the captains-particularly the newer ones-were not voicing their true feelings in the discussions, but rather attempting to curry favor with Tambu by saying what they thought he wanted to hear. While Tambu argued firmly that this was not the case, he had to admit to himself that he had no way of knowing for sure-and hearing Cowboy contradict himself made him wonder anew if he was deluding himself as to the sincerity of the captains' statements.
An insistent chiming interrupted his thoughts, and he looked to his console. The priority call light flashed red, drawing a frown to his face.
There was supposed to be a ban on personal conferences for the duration of the meetings, sparing him the annoyance of captains "stumping" for support of their proposals. For a moment he considered ignoring the call, then he noticed it was coming from the Raven. Was there trouble among the captains? A duel?
With a sigh, he activated the viewscreen once more. To his surprise, however, it was Egor's face, not Whitey's that appeared on the display.
"What's wrong, Egor?" Tambu asked, instantly regretting having spoken. If he had kept quiet, Egor never would have known that his call was answered.
"Nothing's wrong," Egor answered hastily. "Whitey let me use her gear to call you is all."
"There are to be no personal conferences until the meetings are over," Tambu growled. "If there is no emergency, then-"
"It's not an emergency, but it's important," Egor interrupted. "I thought you'd want to talk it over with me first, but if you're too busy, we'll do it from the floor during the meeting."
There was a warning tone in the big man's voice that caught Tambu's attention. Swallowing his annoyance, he leaned into the mike again to apologize.
"Sorry to be so abrupt, my friend, but these meetings always set me on edge. That's part of why I avoid personal conferences until they're over-it keeps me from taking my frustrations out on people close to me. What was it you wished to discuss?"
The anger drained from Egor's face, and he dropped his eyes.
"I would like-I want you to relieve me of command," he said softly.
Tambu's annoyance flared anew, but he kept it out of his voice.
"Why?" he asked.
"These yearly meetings emphasize something we've both known for a long time now. I'm no leader. I don't belong in the same room with these others."
"You're a captain, the same as they are," Tambu retorted. "I fail to see the difference."
"The other captains know their crews," Egor protested. "When they talk at the meetings they speak as representatives of their ships."
"And you?" Tambu pressed.
"My crew doesn't like me. I don't know their minds or how they feel on the issues. I can run a ship, but I'm clumsy with people. Please. I'm asking as an old friend. Put someone else in my place. Let me go back to crewing like I did before."
"What makes you think the other captains know what their crews want?"
"It's obvious. You can see it in their stance and hear it in their voices when they talk."
"They don't know their crews any better than you do," Tambu declared harshly. "You're confusing good oratory with good leadership."
Egor frowned, trying to grasp the concept as Tambu continued.
"Look, Egor, a lot of those captains aren't as sensitive as you are. It never occurs to them that their crew might have opinions. They speak their own minds and assume their crews are in agreement with them. A lot more know their crews don't agree with them, but they don't care. They're the captains, and that's that."
"Are you sure?" Egor asked suspiciously.
"In my position, I can see it. If I were going to single out poor leaders for replacement, it would be those captains, not you. Most of them are Johnny-come-latelies who substitute words for action. Their records are so empty that they have to save their arms to call attention to each little victory. You've successfully commanded a ship for me for nearly five years now, Egor. Your record speaks for itself."
"But my crew doesn't like me," Egor insisted with characteristic doggedness.
"I'm running a business, not a popularity contest!" Tambu exploded. "Can't you get that through your head? Your crew is working because they're getting paid, not because they have any great love for you-or me, for that matter. As long as they're doing their jobs, then you're doing yours. Beyond that I don't want to hear about it."
The words hung heavy in the air as Egor stared out of the viewscreen at him with a frozen expression.
"You're right," the big man said at last, not changing his expression. "I shouldn't have bothered you."
"Egor," Tambu began, his anger gone, "my friend, I-"
"Don't worry," Egor interrupted levelly, "I'll command my ship for you. I'll command it for you until you remove me yourself. Egor out."