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Doc remembered a conversation with his daughter the night before. He stood, his arms behind him as he looked out the window.
"Mr. Stow I had a talk with my daughter the other night," he began. For a moment, a sense of pride was evident to all, "she seems wise beyond her eight years. She asked me many questions, none of which I wanted to answer. She knows what's going on. Like her mother, she's very intuitive."
The pride dropped, "I asked her what I should do. She simply answered, "Do as you always taught me, Daddy. Do what's right."
He hung his head and headed back to his chair, "Now I don't even know what's right."
He sat down, "All this time, all these credits and investment in Med Force, Canaria Medical and treating everyone as equal and now I don't know what's right. I could lose everything, that little girl of mine included."
"Yes, we could 'survive' this, bury our dead and wait again for the next round of bullying. It gets old. Remove them? I surely wouldn't mind but with what? We can't compete with all those capital ships."
He then complained to himself, "I just wish I was with a ship what I am with a gun." It was then he realized what he had been saying.
"Well, Duncan, I guess I let the cat-out-of-the-bag so to speak," he continued, "I don't want to see another round of bullying."
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