“What you’d expect from Old Max,” Richards told him with a grin. “He’s going to take the bull by the horns. Fight the Cats with everything he’s got, carry the war across the frontier into Ragark’s territory if he has to…anything he needs to do to keep them off-balance until the Landreich can deal with them. And Confederation protests be damned.”
“But if this Ragark’s naval force is so much better than what the Landreich has, how can Kruger hope to fight and win?” Bondarevsky fixed a questioning stare on Richards. “Even Kruger’s not crazy enough to buck the odds if the outcome’s certain defeat.”
“Well, he’s building up the Navy as fast as he can. We’ve been buying up every warship we can get our hands on as fast as the Confed decommissions them. We’ve got an experienced team of salvage experts working on each ship as it comes in. And we’re recruiting officers who can make a difference…in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“It isn’t much, sir,” Bondarevsky said, frowning.
“Old Max has some other schemes in hand, son,” Richards told him. “Believe me, we’re going to hand out some surprises. You’ll find out more once we get to Landreich. Max’d skin me alive if I let out any of his little secrets, especially here. You know what he thinks of the Confederation.”
“Kruger always plays things close to his chest,” Tolwyn said. “But whatever he has in mind, it isn’t likely to be easy…or safe. You know, don’t you, Jason, that this campaign’s going to be dicey. Maybe more dangerous than anything you’ve been in before…and you were in a couple of the worst fights the Confederation faced. I hope, when everything’s said and done, that you won’t hold anything against me.”
“Against you, sir?” For a moment, Bondarevsky thought Tolwyn was referring to the Behemoth battle and the wounds he’d suffered aboard Coventry, but Richards quickly set him right.
“Didn’t you know, son?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. “It was Geoff here who first brought your name up as a possible recruit. Max and I both liked the idea, of course, but we wouldn’t have even known you were available if he hadn’t suggested you be brought aboard.” He raised his glass. “So…here’s to comrades in arms.”
“May we all gather together again when the fighting’s done,” Tolwyn added, touching his own glass to Richards‘.
As Jason Bondarevsky silently joined in the toast he wondered just how much chance there might be of Tolwyn’s wish coming true. Facing a powerful new enemy on Mankind’s most distant frontier, outnumbered and without Confederation backing, this time it didn’t look like there was much hope of coming out alive.
But at least he could go out fighting, doing something positive instead of wasting away, one more retired hero in a society that didn’t want his kind reminding them of the dangers they’d so recently faced.
Bondarevsky found himself looking forward to a chance-any chance-to see action once more.
Warrior’s Hall, Brajakh
Kar Baka Kar, Baka Kar System
1855 hours (CST), 2670.277
“The last one is here, Lord Haka.”
Ukar dai Ragark lak Haka turned from his contemplation of the scene outside the window to return his young aide’s arm-to-chest salute. “Very good, Nerrag. I will be there shortly. See to the refreshments.”
“Yes, my Lord.” Nerrag jaq Rhang saluted again and hastened to the door. As the young officer left him alone, Ragark permitted himself a brief baring of his fangs. How they all feared him!
He turned back to look out the window again, savoring the thought of eight-eights of the fleet’s senior officers kept waiting for his arrival in the chamber below. In the days of Thrakhath and his idiot grandfather the Haka hrai had been in disfavor, and Ragark had been forced to lead by compromise, conciliation, and petty chaffering with other leaders whose status might be lower but whose favor in the eyes of the Imperial Court made them too powerful to ignore or overawe. Now the Emperor and his heir were dead, and Ukar dai Ragark ruled his province of the Empire with unbreakable talons.
Power at last. After too many eights of years the Haka Clan had the power it deserved… Ragark had the power he deserved. With the Imperial Family gone, the clans would start the age-old scramble for control all over again, and this time the Haka would be poised to win the Imperial Throne itself.
To think that there were religious-minded fools who believed the loss of Kilrah meant the end of the Kilrathi as a people! The Kilrathi had traveled the stars when the dirty apes of Terra had lived in wattle-and-daub houses and fought with blunt-edged weapons. They were the rightful inheritors, not of a single world but of the entire Empire, and if orange Kilrah was gone, they could make any world the new hub of a glorious imperial state. This one, now…he had viewed Baka Kar as a place of exile when Thrakhath had “awarded” him the governorship of Hralgkrak, but it would make a suitable capitol for the Haka Dynasty.
The view through the window showed him a world not unlike Kilrah. The vegetation was a deep purple, rather than the red-brown of Home, but the jungles that surrounded Brajakh Kar-the Fortress of the Dark-were just as lush and full of game. The planet was an old colony, with everything needed to be self-sufficient…and it was the center of a province of eight-eights of other worlds all replete with the resources to fuel his lunge to destiny.
Thrakhath had treated him lightly, once. Now Thrakhath was beyond his vengeance. But when Ukar dai Ragark took his rightful place at the head of the reborn Empire, he would make sure that Thrakhath and all of Thrakhath’s clan were erased from the annals of the Kilrathi people. Only Ragark and his heirs would remain.
He turned at last from the window and walked slowly toward the door, careful to hide the limp he’d suffered since childhood. Not that anyone was likely to remark on it, not like they had when it had prevented him from becoming a warrior. No one dared call attention to his shortcomings now. But Ragark was too proud to betray weakness. He had schooled himself to hide the physical handicap, as he had learned the arts of government and of war to carve himself a place despite the scorn of his peers.
The lift took him down a level, from the meditation chamber to the Hall of Warriors where his fleet captains waited nervously. When he entered the room they stood in unison, saluting and raising the battle-call of the Haka. That made the blood surge through Ragark’s veins. By the War God, he could lead these warriors to victory!
A table stood at the front of the Hall, under a large monitor screen. Ragark settled his small but stocky frame into the lone chair and watched as the others sat. These were the officers who controlled his warfleet. Some had slighted him in the past; they would pay when he no longer needed them. Some had been his willing allies or servants from the very start. They would enjoy the fruits of victory with him. Many others were nonentities, like so many of the military and political officers consigned to this backwater province during Thrakhath s day. Their fate would depend upon their performance in the days and months ahead. Ragark didn’t intend to let any officer long survive the kind of mistakes that had cost Thrakhath victory time and time again during the war with the Terrans.
But one and all were needed now, and with their aid the name of Haka would be feared once more.
“Today we will begin to put in motion our new campaign against the apes,” Ragark began with a show of teeth. ‘The probing actions we have already conducted along the frontier with this ’Landreich‘ have given us the intelligence we need to consider a campaign in strength against them. It will not be as Thrakhath would have had it, quick and ill-conceived. We will carry out our conquest step by step, taking care that our position remains secure throughout. But in the end, we will have the ape worlds for our own.”