The commander held up a restraining hand.
“I really don’t think that the size of your partner’s vocabulary should be a factor here.”
“It’s not just that,” Do-Wop said, flushing slightly. “He called me a crook-to my face!”
“I said you were a petty thief-and you are!” Sushi corrected sharply. “Anyone who would jeopardize the unity of the company for nickel-and-dime-“
“There! You see?” the other appealed to his commander. “How am I supposed to team up with someone who-“
“Just a moment!”
Phule’s voice cracked like a whip, cutting through the argument and cowing both men into silence. He waited for a moment until they had leaned back in their chairs, then turned to Sushi.
“I’d like a little clarification here,” he said. “How exactly would you define a petty thief?”
The Oriental glanced at the captain, then turned his gaze toward the ceiling.
“A petty thief is one who, in his criminal activities, takes risks disproportionate to the potential rewards.”
“Criminal activities!”
“Sit down, Do-Wop,” Phule ordered, keeping his eyes on Sushi. “If you can keep your mouth shut and listen, you just might learn something.”
The curly-haired Legionnaire sank slowly back into his chair, and the commander continued his line of questioning.
“If I understand you correctly, Sushi, your objection to Do-Wop is not the fact that he steals, but rather the scale he operates on.”
A faint smile played across Sushi’s lips.
“That’s right, Captain.”
“So tell us, what kind of reward do you figure would justify … what was that phrase? Oh yes … criminal activity?”