Stven and M’Sada had both attended the Academy, but their training had focused on small unit operations. Chandrajuski had promoted them early, and the requisite advanced training schools had not been provided. Buskin invited them to join with his staff for a glimpse of the bigger picture.
Buskin configured his Operations Center on the cruiser into its simulator mode, and his staff practiced war games. Stven caught on quickly and held his own with the more senior commanders under Buskin, and M’Sada took naturally to the task. He tended to act slower, with more deliberation, but his engagements were often more successful. Some of his suggestions found their way into what was becoming a primer for large battles.
But fighting the Chessori would be up to the Great Cats. Buskin, from his earlier observations of the cats as they trained aboard Brigand, knew that although they were great fighters, they were not well-suited to commanding fleets. Their skills, honed during centuries of survival, focused on individual and small group tactics. Never had the Great Cats been asked to function as squadron or fleet commanders, and they were not good at it. The cats needed to be commanded, if only to be ordered to retreat when appropriate. They didn’t like retreating, and none of them liked calling for help. They wanted a target, and they wanted to stay on that target until it, or they, were destroyed. The trainers aboard Brigand had resorted to keeping an Empire admiral far removed from the battle in an effort to avoid the Chessori mind weapon, and it worked, but it was not nearly as efficient as Buskin wanted.
Stven took to spending long hours with Borg, Kross, and Trist in front of screens, setting up problems and talking them through solutions. By starting with the most elementary tactics, then patiently moving on to more advanced problems, almost like using a textbook instead of the pressure of real time battles on the net, the Great Cats improved their grasp of the larger picture and made real headway.
Buskin was pleased, and he decided to order similar training when he returned to his fleet. In hindsight, he’d been asking too much of the cats who had never had the benefit of Academy training. He would start over at the beginning, just like at the Academy, and advance only when the cats were ready.
Krys was apprehensive at meeting the Queen. She hadn’t seen her for over twelve years now, and she’d been traipsing all over the Empire doing things in the Queen’s name, all without her permission. She felt small again, as if she was the 16 year old waif of a girl Daughter had pulled from an orphanage so long ago.
Tarn sensed her discomfort, but he, too, was concerned about what would happen following their meeting with the Queen. That they would be Tested was not a concern. What would become of Krys’ crew was.
“You know she won’t be upset with you. How could she?” he asked as they did their stretching exercises prior to meditation.
“You don’t know her. I do, but I don’t know how she’s going to take this. Tarn, I’m a Seer, her Seer, but I’m not a politician or an admiral. What we’ve been doing is both of those. She might be offended.”
“Because you brought her a thousand ships? I don’t think so.”
“It’s only three hundred so far, and ships are not her only concern. The image the Empire carries of its Queen is important, and I’ve usurped some privileges in that area.”
“You’ve only done what you felt was necessary.”
“I have spoken for her, Tarn. Many times. I’ve called all these people to her side, and I’ve done so in her name. It’s always been in her name. My name means nothing.”
He leaned forward, his head touching the deck between his spread legs. Two years ago he’d never have been able to stretch like that.
“If you’ve spoken in her name, it was right. I’ve never sensed wrongness in anything we’ve done.” He looked up at her, his chin on the deck as he held the stretch, his eyes meeting hers as she leaned across one outstretched leg. “She’s going to keep you by her side. I’ll be reassigned to another crew somewhere.”
Krys paused, then relaxed her stretch, her mouth settling into a thin line. “You won’t. You’re the Guide. I won’t let her.”
Their eyes locked. She would defy the Queen? For him? Not a chance. “You won’t have any say in it,” he said, straightening up.
She, too, straightened up, very focused. “I will have a say in it, Tarn. I’m not letting you get away that easily.”
“Get away?”
She blinked, then sighed. “How long have we been doing these exercises together?”
“Almost two years.”
“And in all that time, despite the fact that I’m wearing a skin-tight outfit that leaves little to the imagination, you’ve been a perfect gentleman. Why?”
He squirmed, not wanting to answer. When he did, the answer was pathetic. “I’m an Imperial Officer and your aide, Krys. Chandrajuski ordered me to be a gentleman at all times.”
“Pshaw. Are you human?”
“Too human. It hasn’t been easy, but one thing has helped, a lot. You’re special, probably more special than you admit to yourself. I’m slightly in awe of you.” His eyes lowered. “Maybe more than slightly.”
“You’re strong, Tarn, much stronger than me. I’ve been having trouble concentrating when we’re together.”
He closed his eyes. “Me, too.”
“Maybe you should stop being the perfect gentleman. I don’t think your orders were intended to keep two people in love apart.”
His head jerked up, and he locked gazes with her. “You know?” he breathed.
She leaned toward him and reached a hand out to caress his face. “Don’t you?”
He closed his eyes, and a hand rose involuntarily to press her hand closer. “I do know, but in this I sense wrongness. You’re the Queen’s Seer, Krys. I’m just a lieutenant.”
“You’re The Guide, Tarn, one of six people named by the Leaf People. I don’t think rank is the issue here. Look at me,” she demanded. She already had his undivided attention, she could almost feel waves of energy pouring from him, but she needed to look into his eyes. “I’m the Queen’s Seer, but I’m a person, too, and I have need of your love. I love you.”
His eyes closed as he savored the words, words he had wanted to hear for a long, long time. He opened his eyes to meet hers. “I love you, Krys. I’m not sure that changes anything, but I love you.”
Exercise forgotten, he took her hand and pulled her to himself. They lay on the deck, side by side, his hand caressing her face. He leaned down and kissed each of her eyes, saying, “I have so wanted to hold you like this. I love you, My Lady.”
He kissed her lips, and the kiss was returned.
M ike
Chapter Eleven
Training for the Delta Force volunteers headed for Brodor began as soon as they left Earth. Mike lectured on the political situation, the nature of the enemy, descriptions of various ships, weapons, and their capabilities, and he gave everyone an introduction to Jessie who, for most, was their first view of one of the Great Cats they would work beside. The roles these soldiers would play during the coming troubles was fully explained, including the fact that they, themselves, would have to work out methods for teaming up with the cats. He packed as much language training into each day as they could withstand, and with surprisingly good results. These men really were exceptional, and they refused to rely on the translation devices.
Josh insisted that nothing of substance be withheld from his men. He also insisted that, in keeping with the traditions of special operations soldiers everywhere, even senior officers participated in the training, and that included Mike. Daily PT, hand-to-hand fighting, the use of knives and other killing tools, and team tactics were spread throughout the weeks enroute to Brodor. Though these men were intimately familiar with these tools of their trade, they constantly practiced and reviewed.