Some cautious pen pusher behind a desk, he thought chaotically. Somebody for whom miles had lent safety and detachment.
His discretion ...
It was his responsibility.
Commander Davis was at his elbow. "The Josef's starting to list, Captain."
"I can see that!" he half snarled.
He wouldn't feel pity if the Josef went down, he thought fiercely. It would be good riddance, one less carrier that they would have to worry about at some future date.
If there was some future date, a nagging thought intruded.
He throttled it. The Josef stood for everything that he despised, a way of life that had made a mockery of everything he had been taught to believe in. The menace that had eaten at the world's vitals like a cancer, the menace whose existence had been enough to drive some men to hysteria and others to the brink of suicide. His own wife ...
Now a ship from Outside was attacking that power and what emotions should he feel? Elation? Well, why not? What other emotions should he feel? Certainly not sadness, not regret, not pity.