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. In front of him now was a report from the Allani Battle Front. He wasn't sure what it said, since it was coded and he had neglected to write down the code. Was it ENEMY REPULSED US WITH HEAVY LOSSES or should it read US REPULSED ENEMY WITH HEAVY LOSSES? He wished he knew. It made quite a difference. The door burst open and a young corporal rushed in. "Hey, General, take a look out the window!" Drak started to rise, then reconsidered. Rules were rules. "Hey, what?" he demanded. "Forgot," the corporal said. "Hey, sir, take a look out the window, huh?" "Much better." Drak walked to the window and saw, in the distance, a mass of ascending black smoke. "City of Chando," the corporal said proudly. "Boy, we smacked it today! Saturation bombing for ten hours. They can't use it for anything but a gravel pit now!" "Sir," Drak reminded. "Sir. The planes are fueled up and waiting. What shall we flatten next, huh, sir?" "Let me see...." General Drak examined a wall map upon which the important enemy cities were circled in red. There were Alis and Dryn, Kys and