"We're clear," he said dully. "I don't think the other boat got away. I don't see it on our screens—" A clay-faced creature with the overlong arms and the tufted bristles of a Zorgian pushed through the crew packed like salted fish in the bare, functional shell of the lifeboat. "Listen to me, you muckworms," he hooted in the queer, resonant voice that rose from his barrel chest. "If we wanta make planetfall, we got to organize this scow—" "Who asked you?" a gap-toothed, olive-skinned crewman demanded. "I been thinking, and—" "I'm senior Gook here," a bald, wrinkled Minid barked. "Now we're clear, we got to find the nearest world—" Other voices cut him off. There were the sounds of blows, curses. Scuffling started, was choked off by the sheer cramping of the confining space. "I don't, we don't wanta all die," a hoarse voice yelled. "We got to pick a new cap'n!" "I won't have no lousy Minid telling me—" "Button yer gill slits, you throwback to a mudfish—" Roan stood, turned on the men.
