“From the Command Lair?” Kchula's voice was incredulous. “If they can get me here, how is the Great Hall safer?”
“Because I so command it to be safer.” Ftzaal snapped the words testily. “There is a secret way to the Command Lair. They may use it.”
“I will go then.” Kchula broke the carrier.
Ftzaal returned his attention to the battle unfolding beneath him. My brother serves his purpose at last. The Rrit still feels the effects of the sthondat. He will sense Kchula and go to him. His claws extended of their own accord. And when he does I will capture him, and test a theory. He keyed his com again.
“Assault rapsar parties, move now. Citadel defense, fall back. The trap is set, Ftz'yeer, stand by for my word. Remember I want him alive.”
“As you command, sire…” “As you command, sire…” The voices cracked back. Outside in the forests eight-cubed assault rapsari began moving to cut off and encircle the czrav. They had Ftzaal's other telepath with them to shield their minds from the czrav. Their presence would be a complete surprise. Neither the czrav nor the Rrit would escape him today. Unconsciously, his jaw relaxed into a fanged smile. I will go there myself to see the Rrit taken. He turned to the telepath beside him. “In a moment you will cease shielding my brother's presence. We will show this leader-of-czrav what he is really up against.”
Eat today or be hungry tomorrow.
Crusader fell in toward the Traveler's Moon, and Curvy watched on her battleplot as the two fleets closed. The kzinti weren't climbing up to meet the UN force high in the gravity well, as they usually did. Instead they were waiting for the UN ships to close. Their battle plan was clear. They would let their orbital fortresses engage the human fleet while their battleships and other heavy units maneuvered for close combat, accepting high casualties to get at the carriers that were the heart of the UN attack plan. Still, she could see advantage to be gained. The kzinti were deployed in battle groups, and it was clear from their motions that they were not well coordinated. They were probably acting independently, and if the human force could split them and engage them separately they could keep their casualties to a minimum. She keyed data into her console. Projections on her strategic matrix ranged from twenty-five to fifty percent casualties for the UN force, a heavy toll for ultimate victory. Kzinhome was well guarded, but there were no outcome spaces that did not result in UN success, so the only problem was how to minimize the losses.
There was a higher level problem, which was the response that the rest of the Patriarchy would mount to the destruction of their homeworld. It was a large empire, its full extent still unknown, though it would probably collapse with its central authority removed. What might happen after that was worrisome. The UN had demonstrated how easy it was to devastate a world. Her strategic matrix showed a nearly ninety percent probability of kzinti retaliation in kind, with a thirty percent probability that they were already mounting an exterminating attack. That probability had dropped somewhat when she'd seen how many major kzinti combat units were committed to the defense of their homeworld, but it was still far from zero. A fleet attack was only one way of razing a world, and not even the most efficient. The UN had proven that too.
She nosed her way to the bottom of the tank to snap down a salmon, and then swam over to nudge Zwweee(click)wurrrrtrrrtrrr from his nap. They mated in an amorous flurry, and then she let languor overtake her and she half-napped while he watched the unfolding battle. They worked in split watches now. Even with the end of worlds at hand life's pulse goes on uninterrupted. They would destroy Kzinhome and the universe would continue. There was no sense in regretting what she couldn't control.
To see is not to understand.
The Tzaatz screamed and leapt, and Pouncer's variable sword was already in the trajectory of his leap, canted just so. The Tzaatz died, decapitated as Pouncer's slicewire found the gaps in the neck articulation of his armor. In mind space Pouncer felt him die, and the sudden terminal pain flooded his awareness. He shook off the sudden paralysis, then froze again as he felt a disturbance in mind space. The sthondat extract had worn off to the point he could no longer know thought, only presence, but this presence was special. Kchula-Tzaatz! He is in my father's hall. He looked around to assess the battle, saw the Heroes of Ztrak Pride, much diminished, had secured the House of Victory. He was already in position to attack. We can take the Great Hall and end this here.
He raised his voice. “Ztrak Pride, with me, skirmish order. Advance!”
His warriors leapt to obey, and he could not help but purr at the crisp discipline of his command, even as he appreciated the gravity of their task. His forces held the entire north wall now, and his furthest advance scouts were as far south as the Inner Keep. I will win this yet. He looked to C'mell, leading his left forward four-sword now, and to Swift-Claw, leading his right forward. We have lost so many… He would not falter now, so close to victory. Their deaths would not be in vain.
“C'mell, take your four-sword to secure the rear of the Hall. Don't let anyone escape that way.”
“As you command.” Her reply was clipped, as professional as any zitalyi. I cannot show her favor.
“Sire, we have the Cherenkova-Captain and the other kz'eerkti.” It was Kr-Pathfinder, his voice confident.
“Acknowledged. Move to the Great Hall of the Patriarch. We are securing it now.”
“As you command.”
They advanced against trivial resistance. The Tzaatz forces seemed to be falling apart. It was almost too easy, and he reached out into mind space to detect a trap. There were potentials, to be sure… More sthondat would let me know their thoughts, know their intentions. He pushed the thought away. I cannot allow myself to become addicted. He would have to make do with what he had.
They gained the entrance to the Great Hall, rushed up the ancient stone stairs into the vaulted antechamber. Tzaatz grav skirmishers still leapt overhead and arrows fell sporadically, but resistance seemed to be dying down already. He could sense Kchula-Tzaatz inside. And my brother! He contained his eagerness to confront them in favor of caution and security. I owe it to my warriors not to squander their lives. He sent a sword forward to secure the entrance, and they reported it clear.
He advanced another sword and followed it. The hall was large, full of hiding places. Clearing it would take time. As he moved forward he was struck by the changes that had taken place since the last time he had entered its familiar confines. I have lost my father, become a warrior, taken a name, found a mate, fathered kits of my own, forged an army and led it here… Meerz-Rrit would be proud of him, and there was both joy and sorrow in that realization.
Kill screams echoed, cutting off his reverie, and at the same instant mind space was flooded with new awareness, eight-cubed bright spots of awareness, close. Ambush! With the realization came the knowledge that he had been tricked, that the Tzaatz had shielded their numbers from him in mind space, had encouraged him to overconfidence and overextension. Red and gold mag armor. The elite Ftz'yeer were leaping to the attack. At the same time voices flooded the com channel.