by Yakov Merkin
The room was dimly lit, in sharp contrast to the rest of the ship, which was as bright as the Felinar afternoon when Darkclaw had first met the grand admiral. A few moments after entering the room, the walls, which had been black at first, came to life. Images and videos of a thriving city that Darkclaw could only assume to be Selban appeared, a different one on each wall, and music played, which Darkclaw could only describe as pleasant sounding. After a minute, the sounds changed. Loud sirens began to blare, and then the images changed as well, and the ceiling lit up. There were shots of the sky, where if Darkclaw looked very closely he could just barely make out a motley array of spacecraft. Then the city began to explode around him. All forms of weapons fire were unloaded, from laser and plasma fire to missiles, and even some antiquated projectiles and explosives. In what Darkclaw could only assume were scenes from the actual attack, people ran, screaming as buildings exploded and fell around them, the music changing to match the events, becoming wilder and louder. After some time, Darkclaw could not tell how long, everything became quiet, and the walls showed images of the destroyed city, its residents dead in the streets.
A minute and a half later, the screens went dark, and then what appeared to be news clips began to flash along the walls. They did not linger long, but Darkclaw could gather that most of them showed little sympathy for what had happened, some even implying that the Felinaris deserved it. Finally, short clips from those claiming responsibility for the attack appeared, spouting rhetoric Darkclaw had come across dozens of times as he had researched the relationship between the Felinaris and the rest of the Alliance. Then the walls went dark again and remained that way. No one spoke, which allowed Darkclaw to sense the oncoming emotion flash. He could have brushed it away easily, but decided that this one time he would let it run its course.
Almost immediately, Darkclaw was overwhelmed with a feeling he couldn’t quite identify. It felt similar to the anger he had felt when the Irhani had broken their word, but it was different somehow. He felt a need to exact vengeance for the people murdered in Selban. Somehow, despite the fact that he knew all of this already, Darkclaw found himself shocked as well. He understood the hatred the Felinaris felt for the Alliance, who had done this horrible act. They had a true reason to fight. No government that could condone such an act could be allowed to stand. The images of the dead returned to his mind, and then he thought of the bombardments he had ordered on both Critar and Irhan. Would he generate a similar hatred? No, it was different there. His bombardments had not been unprovoked. They had been used to prevent more worthless bloodshed that would have followed a planetary invasion. It was not the same thing, and besides, in the end, the Tyrannodons needed to reign supreme and above all others, didn’t they? These were dangerous thoughts, too close to questioning the High Lord. Darkclaw pushed away the feeling. It was harder than before, likely due to the fact that he had foolishly allowed it to remain. He hoped the Felinaris did not notice.
He turned to Nayasar, who was still and silent, her eyes glistening with tears. Unsure of what he should say, if he should say anything at all, Darkclaw turned to where Felivas stood, leaning against the door—he seemed to lean against doors and walls quite often. The admiral’s face had gone hard, and while he wasn’t as openly emotional as Nayasar, Darkclaw was sure Felivas felt the same way.
“Now you see,” Nayasar began, slowly, attempting to keep her voice steady, “why we, why I, need to fight this war. And we owe this chance to you. Even, even if we could have convinced the Snevans to join us, we would have been hopelessly outnumbered. And the organizers still live free.”
Despite the fact that the emotion had passed, Darkclaw found himself nodding. “Any government that can condone an action such as this cannot be allowed to exist.” Darkclaw paused for a moment. Based on what he had learned about how emotional creatures acted the proper thing to do would be to place his hand on the grand admiral’s shoulder for a moment, as a show of comfort, even if her sadness did not affect him. Though he most likely already had the full trust of the Felinaris, one more small act would only strengthen their loyalty. After a moment of thought, Darkclaw lifted his hand as if to place it on Nayasar’s shoulder, but abruptly lowered it before he had raised it halfway. He was simply not built for such actions.
Nayasar had noticed his movement, and she looked up at him. “Maybe you do have feelings after all,” she said with a faint smile.
“We will have to agree to disagree on that matter, Grand Admiral,” Darkclaw replied simply. He could not have her be aware of his problem.
She laughed. “We’ll see about that. And I told you to call me Nayasar when we aren’t doing anything official. Before you say anything, no this is not an official matter.” She wiped her eyes. “Well, let’s continue the tour, shall we?”
Darkclaw turned to Felivas, who was still leaning against the door, trying in vain to hide a smile. “I do not think I will ever fully understand any of you,” Darkclaw said.
“Well, I’ll settle for a partial understanding,” Felivas replied, standing upright.
“Progress!” Nayasar interjected, her voice brighter than it had been since they’d entered the memorial room. “Let’s continue.”
The rest of the tour of the ship flew by. They didn’t linger long anywhere else, but enough time was spent that Darkclaw could appreciate the Felinar’s design. Only his own ships had a superior design.
Finally, they reached the command deck. It was structured very differently from his on the Hudecar. It was far larger and held a more sizeable command crew, but the most striking difference was the fact that it had two levels. The lower level more closely resembled the Hudecar’s command deck when not converted to fleet command, while the upper level looked to be the Felinaris equivalent to a fleet command system. From below, he could spot at least a half-dozen screens, along with communications systems and a small table. There would probably be as many as half a dozen crew members there during combat.
“This is the command deck,” Nayasar said needlessly. She had reverted back to what Darkclaw presumed to be her normal, overly talkative state shortly after the memorial room, by the time the tour had reached the engine room. “It shares a similar design to those on our other ships, though as the Felinar is the flagship, it was designed as such, to be able lead the entire fleet in battle.”
“Do you expect there to be any difficulties integrating your forces into my battle network?” Darkclaw asked. The sooner that was done, the sooner the attack on Algen could commence.
“I don’t see why there would be. The Snevans were integrated without a problem, right?” Nayasar didn’t wait for Darkclaw to affirm her statement. “We should get started right away. The faster we can get on with this war. Also, I would request that we integrate your ships into our network as well. I am sure our command methods differ slightly, and we all should be able to contact and monitor the entire fleet if need be. That way, if Omnipresent forbid the Hudecar is damaged and you are unable to relay orders, the supreme warlord or myself could take command temporarily.”
Darkclaw decided not to mention that the integration could have already been underway had it not been for the time wasted here, nor that the High Lord would not approve of his fleet being integrated into another, losing any edge that would come if only they integrated into his own fleet. He did not have time for an argument now.
He remained silent for a moment before replying. The High Lord would surely understand that this was necessary to keep the alliance stable. There would be a way to work around it at a later date. “That is acceptable. My technicians are already prepared to begin your integration into our system. They will be informed to be ready to work with yours as quickly as possible. Yours will be permitted on my ships to integrate them into your system, though there may be a slight delay as my technicians prepare.”
“Great! We can begin immediately,” Nayasar replied. She called over an officer, a young female Felinaris, who Darkclaw was sure had to be at least ten
years younger than the grand admiral, who was young herself. It was admirable, the level of devotion Felinaris had for their world and people; it resembled the way many of his own kind served the High Lord. Few other cultures Darkclaw had read about could claim they did the same. A moment later, Darkclaw sent a brief message to his forces, letting them know that they could begin the integration with full Felinaris cooperation.
“Now I suppose you’d like the reports from the battle at Kanor,” Nayasar added.
Darkclaw nodded.
Nayasar led the group to a room to the side of the command deck. Her briefing room, most likely. It was large, as briefing rooms went, and could probably hold as many as twenty-four officers without trouble. Like most of the ship, the walls were white, with a bit of a shine, though these were completely bare. An oval table occupied the center of the room, though there were no chairs, likely to enable more people to fit.
Nayasar activated a control panel on the wall, and the lights dimmed slightly. Fortunately, they did not turn off completely as they had in the memorial room. Darkclaw did not trust himself to maintain his composure should he recall the images again. A projector lit up above the table, projecting only a faint blue light as Nayasar entered commands into the control panel’s holographic screen. “Should I include details of the operation to destroy the defense platform generators?” she asked without turning around.
“There is no need; from what I gather the primary operation went precisely as planned,” Darkclaw replied simply.
“Alright,” Nayasar replied. “You’re right, after all. Though it did get a little more intense when we had to divert the Snevan ships to deal with the enemy response fleet, and when the initial attack on the final generator proved ineffective. You’re sure you want to skip it?”
“Yes.” There was nothing to gain from a very narrow operation; the valuable information was how the grand admiral had dealt with the enemy fleet.
“Alright then,” Nayasar continued, her demeanor visibly unchanged. “We’ll start with the battle against the enemy fleet.” She began the playback of the display, though it still showed segments of the initial operation. It was likely not done in error.
Darkclaw decided not to make his opinions on their leading the attacks known. It was obviously foolish, but given what he knew about Felinaris culture and about the reason they wished to fight this war, their desire to lead as they did was understandable. For an illogical, emotionally driven people.
“We detected the Alliance response fleet just after the first two generators were destroyed,” Nayasar said, drawing Darkclaw’s attention to the projection. There was little to see at the moment; the Alliance forces were still outside the system and thus not present on the display, and the Felinaris attack groups were still. “I ordered my forces to prepare to attack the enemy fleet as soon as it entered the system, and I had the Snevans integrated into a bowl formation,” Nayasar continued, pointing at the display, where the fleets were merging into a hemisphere formation, from which all ships would be able to fire on the Legion and Irhani ships as soon as they came out of hyperspace.
They were staring intently at the projection. It seemed wrong that they were better able to focus than he was. But then, their troubles were over for now, and his had just begun.
“In doing so, you left your attack groups as the only targets of the defense platforms still operational,” Darkclaw noted.
Nayasar nodded. “It was a risk, I will admit, but I had little choice.” She paused, and brushed a stray strand of golden hair away from her face. “They had six hundred ships to our thousand. I did not want a battle that would see half our fleet destroyed or crippled. Therefore, as much damage as possible had to be done as quickly as possible. If that would make things more difficult for me, then so be it.”
“And you preferred to continue to lead your attack group rather than take command of your fleet to engage a sizeable enemy force?”
“I had given over command of the main fleet for the duration of the attacks on the generators. There was no reason to remove that command when the officer in question could competently do what was needed. Besides, I finish what I start.”
“She’s stubborn, in other words,” Felivas interjected.
“Here, it’s starting,” Nayasar said quickly, indicating the projection.
Indeed it was. As the two small attack groups dove into the remaining defense platforms, the enemy fleet appeared, flying headlong into the ambush. They made no move to fall back and leave the system; probably because they knew that there were interdictors present.
“We were able to eliminate a third of their force almost immediately with the bowl formation,” Nayasar stated as the action played out onscreen.
Darkclaw nodded, but did not immediately reply. The Felinaris and Snevan fleets were positioned well; the heavy damage was done before they could so much as react. “The formation is weaker on its edges, but after that first engagement the enemy was in no position to exploit that, and they couldn’t flee the system,” Nayasar added.
Darkclaw nodded as he watched the combined Legion Navy-Irhani fleet take what action it could, given the circumstances, regrouping and launching themselves at the edge of the formation. Darkclaw suspected that they had been attempting to reach the presumed safety of Kanor’s defense platforms. They succeeded in breaking through the thinner line of the edge of the half sphere, and flew toward one of the lifeless moons that surrounded Kanor. The Felinaris and Snevan fleet had just begun to pursue when the projection paused.
“Some of their ships managed to take cover behind the planet’s moon, but by that point they were so few in number and had such limited options that it was only a matter of time.”
The projection resumed, and Darkclaw watched as the remaining Alliance ships took up positions behind the moon as Nayasar had described, putting it between them and the pursuing Felinaris and Snevans, which would force them to go around the moon to fire, allowing the remaining Legion and Irhani ships to get in the first shots. Whoever their commander had been deserved credit. There was still no conceivable way for them to win, with Kanor’s defenses offline. But taking that into account, they had adapted as well as could be expected. The Felinaris and Snevans did not take the bait, however, remaining out of weapons range, surrounding the area as best as they could, leaving the Alliance forces trapped behind the moon. At that point, the two attack groups destroyed the final generator.
“There was difficulty destroying the third generator?” Darkclaw asked. The projection was not the most detailed recreation of the battle, but Nayasar had mentioned that it had been more complicated.
Nayasar paused the projection. “Yeah, we had a few minor issues. The defense grid was able to compensate for our sensor flooding devices, and the third generator was capable of diverting power to its shields, which made it almost impossible to destroy from the outside.” She resumed the playback. “So the admiral and I each took our ships, along with two escorts each, into the shield and destroyed the thing. Problem solved.”
Darkclaw nodded, then returned his attention to the projection as it neared its end. As Nayasar resumed command, the fleet went after the Alliance forces en mass, and quickly overwhelmed them. As the grand admiral had mentioned previously, the surviving two hundred ships surrendered. “You did well, Grand Admiral,” he said truthfully. She had taken advantage of the situation and won a great victory. By the numbers, fifteen percent of her ships had been severely damaged or destroyed—150 to the 600 enemy ships destroyed or captured.
“Is that pride I hear?” she asked, smiling. “May we have such success in the Algen and Darvian systems.”
“We will not fail,” Darkclaw stated.
“So, as far as I can see the official business in concluded,” Nayasar said. An unneeded, obvious statement. “You can go, if you’d like.”
Did she want him to remain? “I can leave whenever I please,” Darkclaw said. He had to make it clear that he was in the position of greatest
power. Now would come the more difficult part. “Actually,” he continued, “I would prefer to remain for a time, if you do not mind. As you have doubtless noticed, I have a difficulty understanding you, how you function, with your… emotional handicap.” Felivas, who had been standing quietly nearby, let out a brief laugh. Darkclaw did not pause. “I would, if possible, observe the crew as they function, to gain a better understanding.”
Nayasar smiled as broadly as her facial structure allowed, and there was something in her bright green eyes that he had been there previously. “No insult taken, Executor. I appreciate that you are at least attempting to understand us emotional beings. And I’ll one-up your request, too. The admiral and I will personally accompany you wherever you wish to go, and answer any questions you may have.”
Darkclaw almost smiled. Almost. Despite all sense telling him he should not, Darkclaw was forced to admit to himself that he was coming to like being around the grand admiral—Nayasar, he reminded himself, and Felivas, who had been less difficult to deal with from the start. Darkclaw couldn’t tell if it was because of an emotion flash or not. He should never be uncertain. This uncertainty, this trouble focusing, would have to end. Abruptly and unbidden, his mind flashed back to the images of the destruction of Selban, and he again felt a need to avenge those murdered there. Allowing that feeling to remain had been a miscalculation. He willed it away again, then realized that he had been silent for longer than was normal, and the Felinaris were looking at him curiously.
“Are you alright?” Nayasar asked.
“I am fine,” Darkclaw replied. “Your proposal is satisfactory. Do you have a recommendation for where I should start?”
“I do,” Felivas volunteered. “Services should be taking place now in the kset,” continued. “A house of worship is the best translation, I believe. If you want to understand how we think I couldn’t think of a better place to start.”