by Eric Thomson
“He is not that stupid. Neither is Lady Kembri. Wiping out the four hundred would trigger a mutiny in the Armed Forces and revolution in the streets. That would ensure the dynasty’s overthrow and his swift death.”
Brakal stepped off toward the entrance tunnel cutting under the seats, leaving Regar and Toralk to wait by the car. Only the lords and the record keepers were allowed into what was now effectively the legislature’s hallowed grounds.
The amphitheater was as he remembered it. Thirty tiers of stone polished by generations of Shrehari backsides rising in a semi-circle to face an immense stage, empty on this occasion, though Brakal had seen Shrehari Prime’s largest land animals paraded across it during operatic performances.
At the foot of the stage, Gvant and five of his assistants were fussing around the speaker’s rostrum, moved here from the Forbidden Quarter a few hours earlier. Brakal saw no evidence of voice amplification gear though he knew such modern devices would not be needed in a space designed and built to support performers with perfect acoustics.
Gvant noticed him and warned his people. All six, formally robed and wearing chains of office around their necks, turned toward Brakal and stiffened to attention.
“Good afternoon, Speaker.” The Chief Keeper of the Kraal’s Records bowed his head. “Everything is ready.”
“Excellent. My thanks for making the necessary arrangements so we could meet here instead of in the Forbidden Quarter.”
“It is good the Kraal assembles again after so long, whether it be there or in the Jakrang.”
As if on cue, a thickset, robed figure walking with a stately pace came through the entrance tunnel.
“General Vagh.” Gvant bowed his head again. “A pleasure to see you again.”
“And you.” Vagh bowed back politely. He turned his attention on Brakal. “You approve of the security arrangements, I trust?”
“They are satisfactory. Any sign Mishtak might move against us?”
“None, but that does not mean the poxed whoreson will let us disavow the council with impunity.”
“Bah. In the end, it will be Lady Kembri who decides. If she accepts our vote of non-confidence and dismisses him when he refuses to cooperate with us, then Mishtak and the rest of the council go into retirement.”
“And you become kho’sahra.”
Brakal made a gesture of indifference.
“We name someone kho’sahra.”
“If you wish an added a sense of menace hovering over the proceedings, a friend at the admiralty who keeps me apprised of interesting events contacted me just before I left my estate. Convoy Morak Five Three reported sensor ghosts at the home system’s heliopause while it was between otherspace jumps.”
Brakal’s head whipped around.
“Sensor ghosts?”
“Home System Command dispatched a patrol ship to the area but found nothing. The ghosts were probably gas clouds or artifacts of ill-tuned equipment.”
“I wonder. Often, in recent times, when such things were spotted in my patrol area, it meant humans were preparing mischief.”
“Surely they will not come this deeply into imperial space. At least not yet.”
“Perhaps. But the motherless apes’ most defining characteristic is their unpredictability.”
“True.”
They fell silent, each mulling over the incident in his own way while watching their colleagues arrive, singly or in small clusters. Most gave Brakal no more than a polite nod, though his closest colleagues joined him and Vagh for a few quiet words.
None of them wore anything other than a solemn expression that gave no sign of their leanings. He could not tell whether the waverers had chosen, those opposed had experienced a change of heart, or, the gods forbid, avowed supporters were turning against him.
When the lower tiers clustered around the entrance tunnel eventually seemed to overflow with dark-robed Shrehari, Gvant approached Brakal.
“Lord Speaker, the four hundred are here. You may call the Kraal to order.”
“Thank you.”
Gvant bowed and withdrew to one side, where two of his record keepers waited. The retired officers standing with Brakal left wordlessly to take their places, leaving him alone at the rostrum. Once they were seated, he raised both hands.
“Lords of the Kraal, I ask for your attention.”
His words resounded with the force of a starship lifting off on full military power. The amphitheater acoustics did their job and stilled every last shred of conversation. Black within black eyes turned toward the Shrehari standing before the stage in sober robes marked with the emblem of Clan Makkar.
“You know me. I am Brakal. Under the Rules of the Kraal, I am the speaker because I summoned this noble assembly when no other would. I, therefore, call it to order. If you consult your displays, you will find this session’s agenda.”
Robes rustled as the lords retrieved their personal devices and linked them with Gvant’s network.
“Our first order of business is the election of a speaker. Under Kraal Rules, my appointment ends the moment the speaker’s election is called. I so call it. Enter your nomination for speaker.” Brakal fell silent. Unlike his fellow lords, he did not pull out his device to vote.
After a short wait, Gvant consulted his device, then stepped forward.
“The votes are tallied. A majority of two hundred and fifty lords nominate Brakal, of Clan Makkar as Speaker of the Kraal. The assembly remains yours.”
Pretty much the expected number. Brakal and his core allies had not bothered forcing the speaker issue. It paled beside the more important vote of non-confidence in Mishtak’s governing council.
Brakal stepped up to the rostrum and let a challenging gaze encompass the assembly in silence for long enough to discomfit many of those whose heart was not set on forcing the council’s removal.
“You know why I invoked the ancient laws and called this honorable Kraal back from the dead. The empire’s future is at stake in a way it has never been before. The war, out there,” he raised an arm and pointed at the clear blue sky above, “is not going the way Mishtak and his council pretend. It has never gone the way Mishtak and his council claimed. We are losing it, slowly but surely, to an enemy Mishtak tells us is contemptible, weak, unworthy of existing. An enemy without honor. Something has gone wrong, my lords of the Kraal. That contemptible enemy is not only pushing us out of his sphere, he is attacking Deep Space Fleet installations and convoys within the imperial sphere with near impunity. This is dishonor on a level the empire has never before faced in its history.”
Mutterings of disbelief reached Brakal’s ears. They came mainly from civilian lords who opposed Brakal and his allies and preferred things as they were. Apparently, some thought his openly stating what was already whispered among Kraal members crossed a line of sorts. One of them stood.
“You speak too freely of dishonor, Brakal. A dishonored empire always endures upheaval, unrest, and dynastic change. Promoting such ideas in a time of war is tantamount to treason.”
“Perhaps, Kevek, but so is losing a war we should never have started in the first place. Mishtak and the council lied. They lied to the regent, to the Kraal and to the people of the empire. If we do not correct our course, we will suffer, as you say, upheaval, unrest, and possibly dynastic change. I do not wish to see these come to pass, and neither does anyone else in this noble assembly. We are loyal citizens. That is why we must deliberate on a solution and do so quickly. This solution would ideally include the council, but if Mishtak refuses his cooperation, we lords of the Kraal will act alone.”
Growls of approval rose from the military lords, most of whom were experienced in battle against the humans.
General Vagh rose to his feet. “What do you propose, Speaker Brakal?”
— Thirty-Three —
The critical moment had arrived. Brakal gave his friend a respectful gesture of acknowledgment.
“What do I propose, Lord Vagh of Clan Najuk? I prop
ose we end this war. Now. Before it ends the dynasty and permanently harms our species.”
“Since we did not yet vanquish the humans and will probably not vanquish them in the foreseeable future, how would you propose the imperial government act?” Having asked the second part of the question, as planned, Vagh took his seat again.
Brakal let his eyes roam over the assembly.
“We offer the humans an armistice. A cessation of hostilities. We withdraw from the star systems we took, and they withdraw their ships from our space. We return to our respective spheres as they were the day before Mishtak and the council took the irrational step of attacking a species which is anything but weak.”
Kevek rose again.
“What you propose can be interpreted as defeatism, Brakal. And defeatism is treason.”
“You speak too freely of treason, Kevek. Take care you do not cause insult or worse. Some things cannot be forgiven, even here. Yet the truth may always be uttered, and the truth is we are being defeated. In detail, if not yet in general. Peace with honor is what I propose this Kraal advocate. A peace which will preserve civil order and the ruling dynasty and end the useless slaughter.”
Brakal raised his chin in defiance.
“The council claimed we faced a weak, cowardly, and dishonorable species. Lady Kembri believed the council’s word and sanctioned Mishtak’s war. But the humans are not weak. Or cowardly. Or dishonorable. They are cunning. Strong. Capable of building ships which surpass ours. And they are stubborn, unrelenting. How do I know this? I have been fighting them as a starship commander and admiral for almost the entire war. My lords, forget Mishtak’s propaganda. Forget the nonsense peddled by the information channels. Our reality is this. The humans are the opposite of weak and cowardly. They are a worthy foe, one which even now roams at will within imperial space. Surely I need not remind this assembly there is no dishonor in ending the war against a worthy foe when victory becomes impossible. Our traditions demand it.”
“Humans a worthy foe?” Kevek demanded in a voice shaking with barely suppressed rage. “You say too much, Brakal. Humans are nothing but clever animals, meant to be crushed. If you and the other ineffective admirals could not manage, then perhaps the fault is with the Deep Space Fleet and its selection process. And since you personally proved ineffective against them as well, I think you may in fact not be the best choice as Speaker of the Kraal. What say you, my fellow lords? Shall we hold another vote?”
Kevek looked around the amphitheater with a triumphant air.
“What say my fellow lords?”
Vagh climbed to his feet once more.
“Simply repeating Mishtak’s lies about the humans in this sacred place does not make them true, Kevek. And we will not take a new vote for speaker.”
“We will if the majority demands it.”
Brakal and Vagh exchanged glances. The former turned to Gvant.
“What are the rules in such a case?”
“You may put the question to the lords if it is proposed.”
“Then I propose it,” Vagh thundered. “Will the Kraal hold a second vote for speaker?”
Gvant raised both hands to attract attention, then said, “Using your devices, please vote now.”
Brakal barely had time to consider how he would bring the discussion back on track when Gvant looked up from his tablet.
“Speaker, the assembly has decided. There will not be a second vote.”
“Thank you.” Brakal stared at Kevek who finally took his seat, murder blazing from his black within black eyes. “We will discuss the matter at hand. The Kraal must force the council to end this war while we can still demand honorable terms from a worthy foe.”
Angry muttering came from the nucleus of civilian lords around Kevek. One of them stood to be recognized.
“Yes, Dazk?”
“What terms?”
“A return to our respective spheres as they were the day before Mishtak and the council triggered hostilities. Peace without penalties between our species.”
An air of stunned incredulity twisted Dazk’s angular features.
“You would give conquered star systems back to the hairless apes without a fight?”
“Indeed. It is the only way they will accept an armistice.”
“Yet giving up what we gained leaves us with an obscene expenditure of wealth, the loss of countless lives, and nothing to show for it.” The civilian lord made a dismissive gesture which bordered on the insulting. “Unacceptable.”
“Sunk costs. We will never recover those losses, even if we fight the humans until the end of the universe. But limiting the losses to what we expended so far, that is now our sole and overriding duty. As is ensuring the dynasty does not lose favor with the gods and find itself rejected by the people. We need political stability now more than ever. Letting things continue as before, that is unacceptable. When one concedes a war is unwinnable, then one is honor-bound to end it.”
“If one concedes the war is unwinnable.”
Brakal’s lips curled up, revealing his yellowed fangs.
“A plurality of lords present today fought against the humans in one capacity or another. Shall we hold a vote on whether they believe final victory is a fantasy dreamed up by Mishtak’s fevered brain? They will tell you we can only bleed treasure and lives until there is nothing left.”
Dazk glanced at his military peers sitting stone-faced in a great cluster to his right.
“Why should the word of those dismissed by the admiralty carry any weight with this noble assembly?”
Brakal’s rictus widened at the logical trap yawning in front of those who refused to see the truth.
“Because they faced a worthy foe and could not contain him. It led to their dismissal by Admiral of the First Class Trage on Mishtak’s orders. Their replacements cannot do better and never will. Do you think an enemy capable of besting so many senior officers can still be cowed?”
When he saw Dazk’s mouth open for what would no doubt be a scathing retort, Brakal added, “Take care you do not accuse your peers of incompetence. They were among the best of our Deep Space Fleet’s leadership, honed to a keen edge by the war, Shrehari who served the empire with honor. If they were truly incompetent, Trage would have relieved them long ago and not in recent times. War has a way of culling peacetime officers promoted beyond their ability during the earliest stages. Now answer me. Do you want a vote on whether this assembly believes we can still force the humans to bend?”
Instead of replying, Dazk took his seat and pointedly stared over Brakal’s head.
“I thought not. My lords, if a majority agrees we must seek an armistice before it is too late, then let us put forward a motion for debate and a vote.”
Brakal stepped back to the rostrum and picked up his device. Its screen displayed the text of the motion, one carefully composed with Gvant’s help and approved by his closest backers, such as Vagh. It left little room for interpretation.
“The Shrehari Empire has been at war with the human Commonwealth for half a generation and has not achieved victory beyond seizing and occupying border star systems which remain, to this date, in a state of irregular warfare against occupying forces. Moreover, the humans are gaining in material superiority to the point where they raid us with near impunity within imperial space and the occupied star systems, while the empire’s treasury is bankrupt. The Deep Space Fleet, though courageous and aggressive, cannot match the increasingly superior human starships which destroy ours faster than we can replace them. It is necessary to admit we cannot win this war with honor. We can only end it with honor. The Kraal, therefore, enjoins the governing council to work with it under the guidance of the imperial regent in seeking an armistice which will see the occupied systems returned to the Commonwealth in exchange for peace without penalties. Should the governing council refuse, it will face a vote of non-confidence by the Kraal.”
He took a deep breath.
“The text of the motion is now on y
our devices. I open the floor for debate.”
Most of the lords glanced down and read the words with their own eyes. Those who helped draft the motion kept their eyes on Brakal. After a while, Kevek, who seemed to have appointed himself the leader of the opposition, stood.
“This is fine and well, Brakal. But leaving aside your contention our only choice is seeking an armistice—”
“There are other options,” Brakal replied. “One of them is keep fighting and watch the enemy raid deeper and deeper inside the empire, turning everything the council has done with the regent’s blessing into a deadly lie. Seeking an armistice is a lesser evil because it will allow us to disengage on our terms.”
“What if the humans ask for harsher terms than we are willing to give since they apparently surpass us in strength by such a great margin nowadays?”
“I have studied them. They will accept a peace that returns their star systems and nothing more because they too are tired of fighting. But you were about to ask something else, Kevek.”
“I was. What if the council refuses to join us in seeking an armistice? What if the regent herself supports Mishtak in rejecting our demand? They hear only what Admiral Trage tells them, whether or not it is the truth. Whenever the Kraal and a council supported by the dynasty are at odds, the empire suffers.”
It was the point Brakal wanted someone to raise and that it came from a lord who proved himself recalcitrant instead of coming from a known supporter made it that much better.
“A fair question. In that case, tradition says the Kraal takes a vote of non-confidence against the council and petitions the regent to dismiss it. Should the regent ignore the Kraal’s petition, it may then vote to censure her and precipitate a schism between the imperial government and the four hundred highest-ranking lords of the empire. No emperor or regent has ever ignored or refused a Kraal’s petition and lived to see the dynasty survive. Lady Kembri knows this. As I warned Mishtak — work with the Kraal or retire for good.”
Kevek acknowledged Brakal’s answer with a polite gesture.