The assembled captains sat in stunned silence as she continued.
“Most of you don’t know what discrimination is,” A.C. challenged. “Well, I do. For eleven years now I’ve been a New Leper. No matter what laws have been passed, that’s still a stigma I have to live with. Jelly here’s a black. He’s been discriminated against so long he doesn’t even notice it anymore. A lot of you are other things that some people don’t like: Orientals, Jews, witches, women, young, old, smart, dumb. You don’t get hassled working for Tambu and instead of being grateful, you get spoiled rotten. You forget how unfair reality is!”
She dropped her eyes and took a deep breath as if trying to calm herself.
“You’re discriminated against because you’re different,” she said softly. “You all are-your crews are. You ride around on ships instead of working in a hardware store down the street. You’re transients on any planet, outside the local order. That makes you different. That’s all it takes to have people envy, fear, and hate you all at once. You can’t change that by breaking heads, just like you can’t change that by acting nice and polite. You don’t change it at all. You learn to live with it.”
A.C.’s head came up and her voice hardened.
“There are only two options to that. You can be stampeded into damnfool useless action, letting any ignorant spaceport bum who mouths off or takes a swing at you control your actions, or you can tuck your tails between your legs and quit. I don’t know about the rest of you, but it’ll take a lot worse than what I’ve heard today before I holler for help or quit. If any of you or your crews can’t take a few lumps in stride, I say good-bye and good riddance. Go ahead and fold, but don’t try to justify your own weakness by asking the whole fleet to follow suit.”