“We can approximate it. We can dial down the effectiveness of the cats’ weapons and find out what works best.”
“If they’re up against Chessori ships, those ships will not be limited in any way. If they’re up against Rebel ships with partial Chessori crews, there could be a huge degradation on the side of the attackers.”
“Exactly, and each situation will have different tactics. Your own encounter with the Chessori suggests something else to me. They approached with high confidence. That might well be a natural trait. If they’ve had this mind weapon for long, it might have become their primary weapon, one they expect to see work in every situation. If so, at least in the early stages of a battle, that would be in our favor. We’re going to reconsider how we position our forces at the beginning.”
“Are there reports of anyone going up against a Chessori ship?” M’Sada asked, his upper hands preening.
“Other than your own and a number of encounters by the Queen, there are none that I know about, at least none that survived.”
“If they rely on this mind weapon, I wonder how good their weapons and shields are?”
“Hmm. Good point. I have a feeling we’re going to find out – the hard way.”
Krys and Tarn remained behind when the meeting ended. “I have a personal request, sir, if you can spare a little time,” she said.
“What can I do for you?”
“I was injured during the Chessori attack on Rappor. ”
“I know. I wish you’d told me. Doctor Qrondra believes you’re recovering nicely.”
“I feel fine, but I have not attempted a vision since the attack. Are you willing to allow an attempt with you?”
Buskin didn’t hesitate. “I’d be honored.”
“If it doesn’t work, I’d like to keep it private for the present.”
“I understand. You might not be completely yourself yet.”
Krys took her seat with a hesitant smile at Tarn. His heart went out to her, but in this area, he could not help. He gave her ten minutes to sink fully into her meditative state, then he asked Buskin to take her hand.
Buskin leaned down and took both of her hands in his. There was no change visible on Krys’ countenance, but a few moments later she opened her eyes to stare worriedly into his eyes.
Her gaze went to Tarn, then back to Buskin who still held her hands. “Thank you, Admiral. I’m back in business.”
He let go of her hands and backed away. “What did you see?”
“I appeared to be looking through your eyes. I think you must have been out in space and in the net because I could see in all directions. Behind you, a blue and white planet was receding. One gray moon hung off to the side. In front of you, far in the distance, an array of many, many ships approached. That’s all I saw.”
“Whose ships?”
“I don’t know.”
Tarn asked softly, “What color were they?”
“Bright blue.”
Tarn and Buskin looked at each other. “Chessori appear in bright blue, sir,” Tarn said.
Buskin nodded, his expression grim as he looked at Krys. “How many were there?”
“Many. Maybe a thousand. The vision was accompanied with words, as some are.” She closed her eyes and said,
“Follow, or lead? Where once it was dirt, a King’s tears now fall through spread fingers. The battle is won, the war lost.”
Buskin’s focus went internal as he considered the words. So, too, did Tarn’s. Buskin spoke first. “We’re going to lose?” he breathed.
Krys spoke softly, not wanting to disturb Tarn who was seated nearby and thinking hard. “The words must be considered in full, sir. When words accompany a vision, they are always in the form of a riddle. Taken in pieces, the words can be misleading. Tarn has had some success with deciphering the riddles.”
She and Buskin waited for Tarn to open his eyes. When he did, he looked unhappy.
“I don’t sense the pattern this time, Krys. Some of it is obvious, but key parts are not, and those parts could entirely change the meaning of the riddle.” His gaze moved to Buskin. “Her visions seem to apply to the one who touches her. Most likely, she has seen something in your future.”
“That much I understood,” Buskin said dryly.
“Follow or lead? That could have several meanings.” He looked at Krys. “Did you get a sense of their meaning?”
“It seemed like a choice must be made.”
Tarn nodded and looked to Buskin. “It could mean you’ve received orders from someone above you that you might have to disobey.”
Buskin frowned. “My sense, as well. I hope it’s not so.”
“It’s the second part that makes no sense to me, sir. Since Daughter is Queen, her husband, Jornell, is King.”
“Not so, Lieutenant. Jornell is dead.”
Krys sucked in a breath, her thoughts on the Queen. “She has a daughter, doesn’t she?”
“She does.”
Tarn frowned. “If we don’t have a king, who’s king is it? We’ve seen the word ‘dirt’ in several of your visions, Krys. It has always referred to a certain individual. We don’t know who he is. Could he be a king?”
Krys shook her head. “We don’t know anything about him. I’ve never sensed he was a king, but I suppose it’s possible. I have no idea what he’s crying about.”
“Nor do I,” Tarn replied. “The rest of the words are well understood by everyone in this room, but what battle, and what war? Is it our war, or is it this king’s war?” He looked to Buskin. “Any idea, sir?”
“No, but your reasoning is helpful. Seen through your eyes, I sense something strongly from the message, and I do believe it is a message.”
“I do, as well, sir, and the vision of a thousand ships is part of it. I believe there is a great battle in your future. I’m concerned about this king’s tears. When I look at the pattern of Krys’ visions, all of them have been of something that was yet to happen, but in every case of which I’m aware, they applied to our war against the Rebels and Chessori. I believe that whatever this king is crying about pertains to us, the Queen, and our own war. In this particular case, I sense a warning more than I sense a done deal.” He looked at Krys. “What is your sense, My Lady?”
“I, too, sense a warning. We’ve spoken of changing the outcome of visions, and this might be a case of doing just that. We were successful once.”
Tarn pursed his lips and nodded. Buskin sat down deep in thought. When he lifted his eyes to them, he said, “It appears, when taken as a whole, that I will have to make a choice, perhaps disobey an order, and if I choose wrong we’ll lose the war. Any idea when this will happen?”
Krys shook her head. “I do not sense imminence. I don’t mean to sound melodramatic, but it’s possible that the fate of the Empire rests on your shoulders.”
When Buskin’s squadron exited hyperspace, only a few civilian traders showed on the screens. Brodor lay some three weeks ahead. Admiral Buskin identified himself and was told to continue inbound but to expect visitors. A ship left the planet soon after. A week and a half later, it was inspected, then invited aboard. Buskin, Krys, and her three Protectors waited on the hangar deck as the ramp descended.
Three Great Cats padded down the ramp, Otis in the lead. Krys shrieked and ran to him, wrapping her arms around the fur of his neck. He suffered her ministrations, though he, too, seemed pleased. A look of sheer happiness filled her eyes as she stepped back from him.
“Welcome to Brodor, Krys,” he stated solemnly.
“It’s so good to see you, old friend.”
“It’s good to see you. I wish the circumstances were different. You are… older.”
“So are you. Is she here?”
“No.”
“I’ve never known you to be away from her.”
“I was wounded. I’m not yet back to my old self. Your brother is well, by the way.”
She grinned. “He’s a Knight now, isn’t he.”
Otis nodded. “He’s wearing Sir Jarl’s pins.”
“Oh, I wish I could have been there. It must have been special.”
“It was. Will you make the introductions?”