"Mr. Ambassador." Retief said. "This—"
"Don't panic, Retief. I'll attempt to secure your release," Nitworth hissed over his shoulder. "Now—"
"You will address our leader with more respect!" the tall Qornt hooted, eyeing Nitworth ominously from eleven feet up.
"Oh, yes indeed, sir ... your Excellency ... Commander. Now, about the invasion—"
"Mr. Secretary," Magnan tugged at Nitworth's sleeve.
"In heaven's name, permit me to negotiate in peace!" Nitworth snapped. He rearranged his features. "Now your Excellency, we've arranged to evacuate Smorbrod, of course, just as you requested—"
"Requested?" the Qornt honked.
"Ah ... demanded, that is. Quite rightly of course. Ordered. Instructed. And, of course, we'll be only too pleased to follow any other instructions you might have."
"You don't quite get the big picture, Mr. Secretary," Retief said. "This isn't—"
"Silence, confound you!" Nitworth barked. The leading Qornt looked at Retief. He nodded. Two bony hands shot out, seized Nitworth and stuffed a length of bright pink silk into his mouth, then spun him around and held him facing Retief.