"Yae think like they." The Ryq nodded, the very human gesture looking totally out of place on his alien physique. "Yae rill hel' us ca'ture they."
It took several heartbeats for the significance of that to sink in—and as it did Galway felt a surge of relief flood through him. Capture, not destroy... and capture implied no mass destruction on Plinry.
"I—yes, sir, of course I'll help in any way I can," he managed. "But capturing them will be extremely hard, if not impossible. Wouldn't it be easier to just try and eliminate them?"
The two Ryqril exchanged glances. "They dae the in'ossi'le," Taakh said, as if that was explanation enough.
Galway opened his mouth... then closed it again as it suddenly made sense. Lathe's men invading the allegedly impregnable Ryqril Enclave; Lathe himself getting to Trendor despite all the guards. There was no way to pretend anymore that Argent had been a fluke. The blackcollars were, pure and simple, breakers of impossible odds... and in the war against the Chryselli perhaps such odds were beginning to stack up. The Ryqril had tried twice now to trail the blackcollars in hopes of snatching whatever they might be after, with disastrous results both times. But the Ryqril were clearly not ready to give up... and somewhere in the upper echelons of their military, the blackcollars' status had apparently been changed again.
From seekers of usable goods to combat resource. And as the main source of that resource, Plinry had been given a new foothold on its tenuous existence.
Provided, of course, that Galway did his job properly. "I will be honored to assist you," he told the Ryqril. "And I know just the right man to go after first."
"Lath'?" Taakh asked.
"Yes," Galway said.
"Not exactly the result we'd all hoped for," Lathe said, his eyes drifting to the starscape painting adorning the Novak's lounge wall. "But certainly nothing to be ashamed of, either."
Caine nodded silently. Thus endeth my first command, he thought... and while it too was nothing to be ashamed about, it was hardly bragworthy, either, with all the small failures and half-failures along the way. He winced as the memories went drifting by.
Beside Lathe, General Lepkowski cleared his throat. "Don't be too hard on yourself, Caine," he said.
"You kept your team alive. All in all, that's a pretty good scoresheet for a newcomer to the game."
Caine managed a rueful smile. "Perhaps."
"If that's not good enough," Lathe suggested, "try remembering that if you hadn't come up with this mission in the first place Torch's supply of Whiplash would probably never have left Aegis Mountain."
"Yeah. Well, I suppose being the inspiration to others' greatness is better than nothing." Caine straightened up in his seat, shaking the memories firmly from his mind. "So. Have you two figured out yet how we're going to use this stuff to throw out the Ryqril?"
"Oh, we've got a few ideas," Lathe said offhandedly. "Create havoc in key areas, pick up some new allies—that sort of thing."
"Allies?" Caine snorted gently. "If you're looking for names, I can give you one right now."
"Oh, he's already at the top of our list," the comsquare told him. "After all, we'll want to start out right away with the brightest and best the opposition has to offer."
"Galway?" Caine asked.
"Yes," Lathe said.