"Well, get this, you rocket buster," roared Connel. "I want a power deck that will give me what I want, when I want it, or you'll be back in the ranks again. Is that clear, Cadet Astro?"
"Yes, sir! Everything she's got, when you want it, sir."
"And I like to have a power deck clean enough to eat off the deck plates!"
"Yes, sir," stuttered Astro, growing more and more confused. "You like to eat off the deck plates, sir!"
"By the craters of Luna, no! I don't like to eat off the deck plates, but I want them clean enough to eat there if I want to!"
"Yes, sir!" Astro's voice was hardly above a whisper.
"And you're the tactical wizard that won the space maneuvers recently, singlehanded, eh?" asked Connel, bending down to face Tom.
"Our side won, sir. If that answers your question," replied Tom. He was as nervous as Roger and Astro, but he fought for control. He was determined not to be bullied.
"I didn't ask you who won!" snapped Connel. "But you're the one just the same. Control-deck cadet, eh? Well, you work with me. On the control deck there's only room for one brain, one decision, one answer. And when I'm on the control deck, that decision, answer, and brain will be mine!"
"I understand perfectly, sir," said Tom tonelessly.