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big picture, that's always been a problem throughout history. I have my doctorate in sociology, I've made a study of this war and the conspiracy of a number of people to keep it going."

"Say, I like these mugs up here," the woman who had been talking to Jason announced, going up to the wall and taking one down. The bar went silent.

"Especially the ones with the gold handle. How can I get one?"

"You get killed in action, that's how. Gallagher gilds the handle of the mug when he hears that the owner bought a permanent piece of space," Jason said quietly, and the woman looked at him wide eyed and then turned pale.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't know."

"That's all right," Jason replied softly.

She came back to Torg's side.

"Dave, maybe we should go."

"Just a minute, Lisa."

Come on, I think we've interfered enough here." Torg ignored her.

"Listen, pilot, I think I know a bit more about the complexity of this than you do. As a professor it's been my job to study and interpret these types of issues," Torg said. "Just because you got a service pin doesn't mean you own the Confederation. Remember the war's over, friend, so get off the taxpayers back, get a real job, and get a life."

Several chairs were kicked over and Jason held up his hand as if signaling his friends not to do anything.

"Listen, buddy," Jason replied. "You heard what Kirha said. This whole thing is a sham. The Baron's talking us into laying our necks on the chopping block and he'll be back with the axe. In fact I think some people in this government are so stupid they're even helping him sharpen the blade and drawing the line on our necks for us, and you'll be there to help them.

"Are you saying that President Rodham and I are traitors?"

"No, just stupid."

"If there's a traitor around it's you and people like you," Torg snapped. "It's time to shut the hell up and get behind the government. Those who disagree now with Rodham are traitors.

"I was never behind our government," Jason replied. "I was out in front of it, laying my hide on the line. Maybe you people back here on Earth have forgotten what a real gut-busting war is all about. Yeah, you've paid your taxes for it, bought your war bonds, and lord knows sent enough of your sons and daughters off to die in it.

"You're damn straight," Torg replied, "my wife's brother got killed in it, and more than one of my students, and for what?"

"For what? Listen, buddy, out on the frontier, on the colonial worlds we damn well knew for what. We saw it up front and up close. We knew that if the Kilrathi ever got through the thin line of fighters and carriers our worlds could be scorched to a cinder. I saw enough worlds like that. You folks back here on Earth maybe have forgotten that."

"Not all of us," Elaine interjected. "I want peace, and I'd like to believe the Baron, but I can understand what you're saying, Captain."

"It's Jason."

She smiled and Jason could sense Torg bristling that someone in his entourage was siding with the enemy.

"Then if you want war so damn much, why are you drinking with this Kilrathi?"

Jason started to laugh.

"You just don't get it, do you?"

"Listen, doc," a pilot said, coming up to join the argument. "If I had met this Kilrathi in a fight, him and me out there in the middle of it, I'd have killed him without a second thought and I bet he'd have done the same to me."

Kirha grinned and nodded.

"But that's my duty and it was his duty. I can hate his Empire, I can hate what it does, but I can tell you this, at least the Cats serving in the fleet, the pilots the crews of the ships usually fought honorably. Imperial legion assault troops, now they're a different breed, but not him, at least I hope not."

"I was with the fleet," Kirha announced proudly.

The pilot nodded.

"And I respect him. At least he shared the same things I did, the fear, the months of waiting, the moments of sheer terror. I have more in common with him than I do with armchair philosophers like you who think you know about war. You professor types kill me. You think just because you get that Ph. D. you're God almighty and everyone is supposed to kneel and call you doctor. Some of the biggest fools I ever met when it came to war and politics I usually found back in the classrooms. You fill your students' minds with a bunch of crap about a world you don't even understand. You don't have a clue as to just how nasty the real universe is, and then you attack those who are protecting you from the darkness that would rip your guts out if it had the chance."

"You're just another ignorant military brute," Torg sneered.

The pilot snapped.

"I spent four years at the Fleet Academy and six years in advanced training. I have the equal of a doctorate in aerospace engineering and nine years of combat tours," the pilot snapped. "As for this Kirha, I'll buy him a drink anytime. As for you, the damn thing is I'll die defending you when this war starts again, and that kind of makes me want to puke right now."

Torg hesitated for a second, unable to reply.

"Let's get out of here," Torg finally announced, looking back to his friends. "There's just no sense in arguing with people like this."

"What do you mean people like this?" Ian interjected.

"You know what I mean."

"No, enlighten me."

"War mongers, that's what you are. You get your kicks out of it, and then live high on the hog, taking your hundred a week pension out of the taxpayers like me. If I had my way, we'd have ended this war years ago and then spent the money for things that really count and not waste it on your

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