"Plenty." Beliakoff grimly did some quick figuring. "It'll be a year, their time, when we can get back. Kelly, take us out of hyperspace!"
"Now?" Kelly gasped. "Here?"
"At once!"
"But we might come out inside a star or—"
"That," Beliakoff said, his voice filled with righteousness, "simply cannot be helped. We must return at once to Mala!"
General Drak, Commander of the Forces of the Empress, Wearer of the Gold Star of Mala, sat at his desk in the Supreme Command Post, which had recently been converted from a hardware store. He was engaged in a fiery argument over the telephone with Nob, the Empress's right-hand man.
"But damn it all," General Drak shouted, "I must have it! I am the Supreme Commander, the General of All the Armies of the Dictatorship! Doesn't that mean anything?"
"Not under the circumstances," Nob answered.
Two soldiers, standing guard in the General's quarters, listened interestedly.