“Scorpion here, sir,” the man announced. “We’ve been expecting your call.”
Tambu did not recognize the man immediately and there was something in his tone which hinted of disrespect. But the situation was too pressing to prolong the conversation.
“If you’re expecting my call,” he snapped, “then you probably know what’s going wrong. Assign someone to repair the viewscreen in the meeting room immediately. Tell Captain Egor to declare a recess until the screen is functioning. Then have him report to me.”
“There’s nothing wrong with the viewscreen in the meeting room,” the man informed him tensely. “We deliberately overrode the transmission.”
A flash of anger shot through Tambu.
“We?” he barked. “Who is ‘we,’ and by what authority do you-“
“We are the crew of the Scorpion,” the man interrupted. “And it is my pleasure to inform you that we’ve just taken control of the ship.”
Tambu’s mind reeled. A mutiny! Devilishly well timed, too!
Almost without thinking, his hand activated the computer tie-in to the console, seeking the identity of his adversary in the fleet’s personnel files. The search was thankfully brief, and the information appeared on a small supplemental data screen.
“I see,” he said quietly, hiding his agitation. “Tell me, Hairy… it is Hairy, isn’t it? With an ‘i’? Just what do you and your friends hope to accomplish with this takeover? You’re completely boxed in by the fleet, you know. I don’t see much chance of your escaping.”
“We-we just want a fair deal,” Hairy stammered, visibly shaken by Tambu’s recognition.