"But you gave Frix seven! And he's just Unit General!" "That was before we understood the rules completely. We thought there was no limit to the number of stars we could give and Frix was sulky. I'm sorry, General, you'll just have to be satisfied with seven." "Take one away from Frix, then." "Can't. He'll resign." "In that case, I resign." "You aren't allowed to. The book, _Military Leadership_, specifically states that a Supreme Commander never resigns during hostilities. An Earthman would find the very thought inconceivable." "All right!" Drak furiously slammed down the telephone. The two soldiers exchanged winks. "At attention, you two," Drak said. "You're supposed to be honor guards. Why can't you act like honor guards?" "We haven't got weapons," one of the soldiers pointed out. "Can't be helped. I sent what we had to the front." "But we need them here," the soldier said earnestly. "It's bad for morale, us not having weapons, and morale is vital for victory." Drak hated to be lectured, but he had to accept textbook truth when it was quoted at him. "You may be right," he agreed. "I'll try to get some back." He rubbed his eyes tiredly. Everything had happened so quickly! * * * * * Just a week ago, Nob had walked into his store and inquired, "Drak, how would you like to be a general?" "I don't know," Drak had confessed honestly. "What is it and why do we need one?" "War starting," Nob said. "You've heard of war, haven't you? Earth idea, _very_ Earthly. I'll explain later how it works. What do you say?" "All right. But do you really think I'm the right type?" "Absolutely. Besides, your hardware store is perfectly situated for the Supreme Command Post." But aside from the location of his hardware store, Drak had other qualifications for leadership. For one thing, he looked like an Earth general and this had loomed large in Nob's eyes. Drak was over six feet tall, strongly built, solidly muscled. His eyes were gray, deep-set and fierce; his nose was aquiline; his mouth was firm because he usually held nails in it when he was out on a repair job. In his uniform, Drak looked every inch a general; as a matter of fact, he looked like several generals, for his cap came from the Earth-Mars war of '82, his tunic was a relic of the D'eereli Campaign, his belt was in the style of the Third Empire, his pants were a replica of the Southern Star Front, while his shoes reminded one of the hectic days of the Fanzani Rebellion. But at least all his clothes were soldiers' clothes. His honor guard had to piece out their uniforms with personal articles. They had complained bitterly about the injustice of this, and had come close to deserting. But Drak, after some hasty reading in Smogget's _Leadership_, told them about the Terran doctrine of the Privileges of Rank.