"Gum'pas H. Voot!" Brim exclaimed in disbelief. "What about the thraggling Leaguers? Am I to believe they are still asleep, too?"
"Um..." Barbousse stuttered. "I've no information about how many of 'em might be sleepin' at this time. But they're still over there in Effer'wyck, and our latest reconnaissance ships are reportin' no action whatsoever—um, Admiral, sir."
Astounded, Brim rushed through a warren of silent corridors to FleetPort 13's third new COMM center that month, where he contacted the Office of Fleet Intelligence in a bunker hundreds of irals beneath the Admiralty. After a short conversation over the scrambler, he shook his head in disbelief and took a seat beside the tired-but-grinning Barbousse. It was true. Not a single Leaguer ship was headed toward the Triad or any of its five planets. Nor was there ground activity anywhere in Effer'wyck to indicate that the situation would change in the next twenty-five metacycles. Moments later, a rare eyes only text message arrived for him directly from Calhoun, and he took it into an empty decoding cubicle.
Brusque and emotionless, it was notification that although the Leaguers had abruptly changed their code, the last message successfully deciphered contained the following from Headquarters Tarrott to Orgoth:
"...The enemy space force is by no means defeated. On the contrary, it shows increasing activity. Advent of the new secret weapon against attack ships has destroyed much of our ability to support ground operations. The gravitological situation on the whole does not permit us to expect extended periods of calm during the next five Standard Months. Emperor Triannic therefore decides to postpone Death's Head indefinitely."
EPILOGUE
A Message from Effer'wyck
"Not beautiful child, Wilfooshka— magnificent child," Old Borodov cooed, cradling little Hope in his great furry arm.
Beside him, Ursis grinned and tickled her chin with a delicate, hirsute finger. "Bears are easy marks for cubs of all ancestries," he said absently.
"I would never have guessed," Onrad laughed. "Except I visited Knez Nikolas at the Great Winter Palace in Gromcow as a child." He looked at Brim. "You'll need to watch these two carefully in the years to come, Wilf," he said. "Bears can spoil even badly pre spoiled Crown Princes."
Brim looked around at the magnificent nursery "Uncle Onrad" had ordered for his little
"niece"—complete with adjoining apartment to house "Nana" Tutti. He shook his head. "It appears that full-fledged Emperors are pretty talented in that department, too," he said.
Onrad frowned as color rose in his cheeks. "Nonsense," he said with a little grin of embarrassment. "It's just so she'll declare Imperial citizenship when the time comes for her to choose."
"She's a lucky lady," Brim said with a serious smile. "She's got three very unique uncles."
Ursis nodded toward the child who was now holding his finger in one of her tiny, dimpled hands.
"She also has pretty singular 'special uncle,' " he said, nodding toward the Carescrian. "You must be very proud, Wilf Ansor."
"As I've said before, I can't take much of the credit," Brim said, feeling his own cheeks burn. "But she certainly had a splendid mother."
"Too bad Raddisma is not here to see," Borodov said, rocking the little girl gently in his arm. "I am certain she would have been pleased."
"I suppose I'll have to be pleased enough for both of us, then." Brim said.
Onrad nodded and grinned. "I suppose you will, Wilf," he said. "And if you don't, I'll make up the remainder." Then he frowned, "But back to facts, gentlemen. Wilf, you and your people at group-level agree with the general war prognosis, then?"
"We do, Your Majesty," Brim affirmed as Borodov handed over his tiny daughter, who was beginning to fuss. He slipped a feeder into her mouth, and she relaxed, chuffing away contentedly. "For the past two weeks, now," he continued, "League attacks on all five planets have dropped to pre-Aunkayr levels. From what I've seen, they're back to concentrating on military targets now—with an occasional 'spite' raid on Avalon just to keep their hand in."
"And they are removing invasion equipment they stockpiled on coastal planets in steady stream,"
Ursis added, "taking it back to where they plan to start trouble next, one supposes."
Brim nodded agreement, lifting Hope in preparation for burping.
Onrad absently placed a pad on Brim's shoulder. "And where do you suppose that will be?" he asked.
Ursis looked at Borodov and sighed. "Is supreme top-secret information," he said, "but one supposes that Hope can be trusted."
"We shall trust her," Borodov said, suddenly looking very serious. "Please proceed, Nikolai Yanuarievich."
"After long deliberation," Ursis continued in a deep growl, "many of us Bears believe that the Tyrant's mind has turned to Mother Sodeskaya herself for his next victim."
"I rather suspected that." Onrad said grimly. "I take it there are some who do not share your views?"
"A few," Borodov affirmed. "Not like CIGAs, of course. All Sodeskayans understand who is enemy. But in their way, they often obstruct just as effectively. These particular featherweights believe that Triannic will go after other targets first."
"When, in fact, there are no other targets he can go for," Ursis added. "So long as both your Imperial Fleet and Sodeskayan land armies exist to make war together, he cannot risk attack anywhere else. He must eliminate one or the other first."
"He must also rebuild his Deep Space Fleet," Brim ventured.
"While we do the same thing," Onrad put in. "If Triannic had been able to rush a few more reserves to fat-boy Orgoth, he'd have come pretty close to pulling off his invasion. Right, Brim?"
"That's the way I see it, Your Majesty," Brim said. "Luckily, with the new Carescrian shipyards in operation, we'll be able to rebuild as quickly as he." He held his breath momentarily, trying to stifle a bit of partisan pride. "Maybe a little faster."
"So, he's effectively blocked here," Ursis said.
"Yeah," Onrad agreed. "It's hard to fault that line of thought."
"Which means," Ursis said, raising a long index finger pedagogically, "that at present, our first priority is to build a fleet."
"What?" Onrad demanded.
"A S-Sodeskayan fleet...?" Brim stuttered, switching Hope to his other shoulder.
Both Bears grinned. "Yes, my friends," Ursis assured him. "First time in history, we can no longer count on continuing to live as free Sodeskayans under sole umbrella of Imperial Fleet." He looked at Onrad. "During foreseeable future, you Imperials are going to be busy enough defending your own Triad, much less our huge network of star systems, too."
Onrad took a deep breath and held out his hands to Brim for Hope. "Times have really changed, haven't they?" he sighed, cradling the little girl in his arms. "Who would ever have thought we'd see the day the Imperial Fleet couldn't keep peace throughout the whole galaxy?"
Borodov chuckled. " 'Constant change is here to stay,' as we say in Mother Country."
"Yeah," Onrad said with a grin. "I guess it is." Then he looked at Borodov. "I take it that we have just passed into an official visit?" he asked.
"We have, Your Majesty," Borodov said. He laughed. "I now become Anastas Alexi Borodov, Grand Duke of Gromcow Lakes and special Emissary to Nikolas the August, Knez of Greater Sodeskaya and Grand Federation of Sodeskayan States. Is impressive title, no?"
"Damned impressive," Onrad replied with raised eyebrows. "So what can we do to help you and the Knez build that Sodeskayan fleet?"
"Thought you would never ask, Your Majesty," Borodov replied with an old man's grin. He turned to Brim. "We want this gentleman," he said.