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. So far, Thorby had ignored it.
"Isn't what right?"
"Why'n't y'keep y'r ears open? Can't you hear anything but rustle and clink? I was telling 'em what I told the Weapons Officer: the way to rack up more kills is to go after 'em, not pretend to be a trader, too scared to fight and too fat to run."
Thorby felt a simmer. "Who," he said, "told you that traders were scared to fight?"
"Quit pushin' that stuff! Whoever heard of a trader burning a bandit?"
Peebie may have been sincere; kills made by traders received no publicity. But Thorby's burn increased. "I have."
Thorby meant that he had heard of traders' burning raiders; Peebie took it as a boast "Oh, you did, did you? Listen to that, men -- our peddler is a hero. He's burned a bandit all by his own little self! Tell us about it. Did you set tire to his hair? Or drop potassium in his beer?"
"I used," Thorby stated, "a Mark XIX one-stage target-seeker, made by Bethlehem-Antares and armed with a 20 megaton plutonium warhead. I launched a timed shot on closing to beaming range on a collision-curve prediction."
There was silence. Finally Peebie said coldly, "Where did you read that?"
"It's what the tape showed after the engagement I was senior starboard firecontrolman. The portside computer was out -- so I know it was my shot that burned him."
"Now he's a weapons officer! Peddler, don't peddle it here
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