"There is a liner transiting through the outer fringes of your territory in—" he looked at a paper Kina had slipped before him "—about four hours. I would appreciate it if your fleet is withdrawn in time. It would not go well, Krraula, if an ... accident ... were to happen to this liner of which I speak. I think you understand."
He gave Krraula no time to answer, but switched off. He sat back, and looked aimlessly at Kina.
"Kina," he said, after a few moments of thought.
"Yes, Commander."
"Do you get the framework of this problem?"
"I do, sir," answered the aide.
"Good. Let me hear it."
"The question is one of Command," said Kina Staun quietly. "Out here in the stars, power—the authority to command—goes not to men's heads but to their souls. Krraula of Beolin is an example, and, in a different way—"
"Myself?"
"No, Commander Brullar. He is the brass-hat type, while Krraula is simply a tyrannical madman."