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It would have been easiest to simply consign them to space. Human dead were normally given a burial in space, with a brief ceremony, a launched casket, and an honor guard salute. The thinking among most of the Landreichers seemed to be that anything that elaborate would be a waste of valuable time, and that the expedient thing to do would be to simply jettison those thousands of bodies and get on with the business at hand.

But that wasn’t the way Vance Richards operated.

As he’d explained at the outset of the meeting, Kilrathi burial customs went back many hundreds of years, to a time long before the race had developed space travel. Descended from carnivore stock, the Kilrathi race as a whole was extremely territorial, and the religious Codices established the need for each kil to return to the land so that his spirit would have a range in which to hunt and explore throughout the afterlife. Of course space travel had forced some alteration to the ancient beliefs, but the Kilrathi still preferred to return their dead to solid ground, be it planet, moon, or asteroid, rather than allowing them to be consigned to the endless void.

So Richards had decreed that the nearly five thousand dead aboard the carrier should be given the kind of burial their religion called for-on Nargrast.

It was going to require a major effort to carry out those orders, though. The dead, now stored in the carrier’s port side flight deck in vacuum and zero-g, would have to be moved aboard shuttles from the City of Cashel and carried to Nargrast, where the shuttles would ground, unload their grisly cargoes, and deposit the bodies in a series of mass graves to be excavated by ore extraction vehicles from the factory ship. Richards also intended to have a burial service read, to honor the Kilrathi casualties who had given their lives for their Empire.

The orders had drawn a few frowns around the table, but it was Steiger who resisted the most. His ship and crew would bear the lion’s share of the burden, and like most Landreichers he didn’t see any need to honor Mankind’s most inveterate enemy.

The transport captain glared across the table, first at Richards, then at Murragh and Donald Graham, who had been invited to the meeting so that Richards could discuss plans for the burials with them. “I wonder if you’d be so considerate of all these Cat stiffs if you weren’t trying to impress your new buddies,” Steiger said bluntly. “Some of you may think it’ll make a difference, but I tell you the Cats won’t care one lousy bit if you bury them, shove them out the airlock, or shove ’em in the fusion plants. They’ll still be back shooting first chance they get.”

Richards half rose, then sank into his chair again. When he spoke he sounded more tired than angry, but Bondarevsky could read the fury behind his icy eyes. “I’ll only say this once, Captain,” he said flatly. “I don’t care in the least what the Kilrathi think of me. I would have ordered a proper burial for those people if there wasn’t a single Cat within a hundred light-years to see me do it. We’ve been at war for more than a generation, but in my book war is no excuse to abandon our principles, and I say anyone, man or kil or whatever, deserves to leave this life with dignity and according to his or her beliefs.” His tone grew harsh. “Or would you prefer that we stuffed you or your men into the fusion reactors if you’re killed while we’re out here, Captain?”

Steiger flushed. “Damn it, Admiral, it isn’t the same!”

“Yes, it is,” Bondarevsky put in. “I agree with the Admiral. How can we pretend to be better than Thrakhath was if we show the same contempt for our enemies that he did?”

Richards nodded. “Exactly. At any rate, Captain Steiger, whatever the morals and ethics of the situation, I’ve made it an order, and unless you would like to be relieved and shipped back to Landreich in a ship’s brig, you will carry out that order. Is that understood?‘

There was a long pause before Steiger responded. “The crew won’t like it,” he repeated. “But…aye aye, sir.”

Richards let out a sigh and slumped back in his chair. “Very well. I think we should take a break before we get on with the rest of the meeting. Shall we say half an hour?”

The Goliath staff adjourned, most of them making their way to the adjacent compartment where the carrier’s mess crew had set up a buffet table with coffee and an assortment of pastries. Bondarevsky remained seated, and so did Richards, who started checking over his notes on his computer terminal with the air of a man on the very edge of physical collapse.

Murragh and Graham stood and walked slowly towards the admiral. “Admiral Richards,” Murragh said quietly.

Richards looked up. “Oh, yes, gentlemen. I think we’ve covered everything you need to be here for. I suppose you’ll both want to go to Nargrast for the service?”

“Yes, Admiral, I know that I would, and all of my people,” the Kilrathi prince said gravely. “But before we leave, may I thank you sincerely for your observance of our ways. It is…not something I expected. I fear that were the roles reversed few Kilrathi officers would have been so generous toward human dead.”

Richards waved a hand vaguely. “What I said was true, my Lord,” he said. “I didn’t order it for your benefit.”

Murragh gave a human nod. “I grasp that, Admiral. That is what is so impressive.” He paused. “Admiral, I have been thinking, and talking with my friend Graham. I was of service to you in the matter of the computer, was I not?”

“Yes, of course,” Richards said, “we couldn’t have pulled it off without you. I’m not quite sure how I can repay you for it, but I assure you I’ll move heaven and earth, and maybe even Max Kruger, to try.”

“The desire for compensation does not motivate the Kilrathi,” Murragh said calmly. “Any more than your decision in the matter of the dead was motivated by a desire for personal gain. We believe in doing our duty, living with honor, and facing our enemies with courage. But since I was of service to you, I believe I could be so again…if you will allow it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Admiral, I do not know the details of your intentions for Karga, but it is clear you are attempting a major repair effort, presumably to put the ship back into service again.” Murragh said it casually, but Bondarevsky was impressed. The Kilrathi had been kept as far out of the picture as possible for security reasons, but the prince obviously had the imagination it took to see where Goliath was heading.

“And if we are?” Richards was suddenly very much the ConFleet intelligence officer, wary and poker-faced.

“There are many dissimilarities in technologies to be overcome, whatever you are trying to do,” Murragh said. “If you had the assistance of Kilrathi officers who knew his systems, your work would be speeded considerably.”

Richards frowned. “I’m not sure…”

“If you accept, you will have each kil’s word of honor to support your work honestly and fully,” Murragh said. “My people will not attempt to sabotage your efforts. I have already told Bondarevsky and Graham that I view your people as my allies against Ragark, who would set himself up as an usurper on the throne that belongs to my hrai. Cannot an ally assist an ally in a venture to their mutual advantage?”

Graham spoke up. “He’s serious, Admiral. Hell, I wouldn’t mind joining your little party myself, as a volunteer, since I’m not likely to be getting a ride back to Terra anytime soon to report in. And me and my guys and gals have a lot of experience in splicing Cat and Ape gear together without having it blow up in our faces. We’re willing to help any way we can. And I think it would be to your advantage to have us on board.”