The young child – he thought it was a girl – cautiously walked forward towards the crouching Ashani. While young she at least partially understood that the catlike people on the other side of the wire were not friends, and was therefore confused by the friendly manner of this particular man.
“Don't be afraid, I won't hurt you,” he continued smiling warmly, the mayor grimacing in abject helplessness.
The child moved forward to the wire, to the apparent pleasure of the well-dressed Ashani leader who smiled at her with white teeth and wide eyes.
“What is your name child?”
“Kolash,” the young Makani whispered quietly.
“And is this man your father?” Corr'tane asked, glancing at the mayor.
“Yes, sir,” the girl replied, assuming the man was fairly important so addressing him like one of the school teachers.
The Strategos smiled wider, seemingly amused by the title. “He has brought you up well, child. You are a very well behaved and respectful little girl,” Corr'tane complimented softly. He noticed that beside the girl her father had his hands clenched so tight blood was seeping between his fingers. That amused him even further. “Tell me, where is your mother?”
The child cast down her eyes. “I don't know.”
Corr'tane's smile slipped and he spoke with an even more gentle tone. “She's missing?”
“Yes. We haven't seen her since the ground started shaking and the sky burned.”
“We were separated during the bombardment,” her father said with as much accusation as he dared under the steely gaze of Corr'tane's guards.
Corr'tane was still focused on the child. “Do you think she is all right?”
The child did not look up. “I don't know. Maybe.”
“Do you think she is all right?” the Strategos asked. again “What does your heart say?”
The little girl looked up, slightly brighter. “It says she's fine, and that she's waiting for me and father.”
Corr'tane's smile returned. “Then I believe she is.” He noticed the Mayor was getting more and more distressed. “You know when I was little I lost my mother too, just like you have.”
“Did you find her?” the girl chirped.
“No, but I know that she is still here, waiting for me and my sister to come to her." The Strategos smiled sadly and looked to his sister, who could not meet his gaze. Pyshana always retreated into herself when they talked about their parents.
“I hope you find her,” the girl said, ”and you live happily ever after.”
The Strategos laughed, his cat's grin spreading across her face. “Why, thank you! You are a good little girl. When was the last time you ate?”
“Two days ago,” she replied.
“There isn't much food in the camp,” her father the Mayor added levelly.
“Then we must resolve that. Captain!” Corr'tane turned to his escorts. “Make sure these people have their rations. In their own way they are important to our war effort. Let's not waste our resources.”
“As you command, Strategos.”
“And you,” he returned his attention to the little girl. “By being so polite you have earned a treat.” Corr'tane took a piece of candy from his top pocket. “Here, take this. I'm afraid the other food you get may not be so tasty, at least for a while.”
The girl reached through the wire ant took the offered sweet, eating it down quickly.
“Now, remember to eat well and keep your strength up,” Corr'tane said. “Obey your father and I'll have my people look into finding your mother.”
“Really?” the child grinned happily.
“Really. Now, off you go, play with your friends.”
The girl ran off and disappeared into the crowd, her father stepped back with her. “I guess I should thank you,” he admitted slowly. “Can you find my wife?”
“Perhaps,” Corr'tane replied in an equally cautious tone. “But you must agree it is important that your daughter thinks so. It will keep her strong, and we need good strong workers for our industry. You must all do your part to earn your food. Do you understand?”
“I understand.”
“Good. Remember this conversation, Kront. You are responsible for ensuring these people work. Do not let me down. That'd be... unwise.” Corr'tane turned and moved away, back up the slope he came down. His guard detail shouldered their rifles and followed him, with his sister running to catch up.
“What the hell was that?” Pyshana snarled. “You talk to these animals of our mother!?”
“The girl moved me,” Corr'tane said smoothly.
“Are you going to use our troops to find that... thing's own mother?” he said harshly
“Of course not,” Corr'tane scoffed. “You sound tense, sister. You should relax more.”
“We're on the verge of the biggest war in our history! How do you propose I relax?” she snapped.
“Immerse yourself in research like I do. Our work is our biggest gift.”
Pyshana growled as they reached the summit. “I still don't see why you help these creatures, brother.”
“Giving that girl a treat?” the Strategos smiled. “Sister, don't you know me by now? I do not help our enemies. I merely find ways for them to serve us. The candy carried a large dose of an experimental biogenic compound.”
His sister blinked absently. “It was what?”
“A tailored biological agent of my own invention. Harmless to us, but it should have quite an effect on these creatures. Captain, come here,” Corr'tane said plainly as if describing something completely inconsequential. “Make sure to monitor the spread of the contagion within the camp. The squalid conditions and close packed people should be ideal for the virus. You know who 'Patient Zero' is. Watch the child closely and report her progress to me. Going by my projections I expect a ninety percent fatality rate within three to five days of contraction. Any who are still alive after that are to be put in stasis and sent to my team for dissection.”
“It shall be done, Strategos.”
“As I said, the virus is harmless to our species. Even so, do take precautions. You have your orders. Dismissed, captain.” They exchanged salutes, then the officer marched away to attend to his new duties. Corr'tane turned and smiled at his sister, raising an eyebrow at his shocked expression.
“I don't understand you,” she said. “Why did you do it?”
“It's my job, sister. Or have you forgotten I am in charge of bio weapons?” he smiled mildly. “Oh, don't tell me you care for those dumb refugees? Not developing feelings, are you?”
“Of course not!” Pyshana sneered. “They are inconsequential. Just because they walk and talk does not make them like us. But why did you talk to that child first? Why not just hide the virus in their food supply and have it delivered?”
He shrugged. “I honestly don't know. I just wanted a connection with her, I suppose. I wanted to see into her eyes and experience a little of her life, to understand her and examine her feelings. To empathize with her. I wanted to know what it was I was destroying, what I was taking away.”
“You wanted to be a god.”
He broke into a sad laughter. “For all my life, sister. For all my life.” He looked back on the camp one more time, then turned and headed for the other officers. He had no regrets. The Makani were nothing but a means to advance the Dominion's cause by whatever means necessary. But his sister's question had raised something in his mind: why did he want to be close to those he killed? What was the point of that?
Whatever the reason, it wasn't going to just pop up in Corr'tane's mind, and it wasn't really important. The main concern he had was to prepare for the coming war. All he did had that very same goal, from infecting the camp to discussing fleet formations. He banished the thoughts from his mind and looked up into the dim and dusty sky. The Pact was out there, blissfully unaware that its days were numbered. Their time was almost out.
Toklamakun, High Orbit.
Later that day.
&
nbsp; “Apologies, sir. Could you repeat that?”
High Strategos Kalla'shan frowned. He was not used to repeating himself. But Corr'tane was one of his ablest commanders and something of a protégé of his, so he would forebear this time.
“I said: the invasion of the Pact worlds is being postponed.”
“But sir! Our forces are ready. This is the perfect time! We can beat them!” Corr'tane stated emphatically. He stood in the private quarters he used on the dreadnought CLAWBLADE, one of the fleets' flagships, staring at the holographic transmission from Karashan. The room was opulently furnished in browns and golds but was not particularly large. He did have his own customized dreadnought being built, but it was still over a year from completion. He had half expected the war to be over by the time it was finished. That expectation was now evaporating.
“Some of the Pact's members have stepped up their defenses, and this is a concern to High Command,” the High Strategos explained. “However, our intelligence sources are convinced that the Pact is lazy and in a few months they will return to their usual lack of readiness. We assume they'll return their fleets to standby and dismiss their reserves. Then we'll attack.”
“But sir, every month we delay brings our world closer to death!” Corr'tane pleaded. “We must attack!”
“Strategos, if we attack without favorable conditions then our destruction will only be brought about sooner, and not at the hands of our sun but by our neighbors,” Kalla'shan explained calmly. “My orders are to wait and prepare.”
“Master, whatever opposition awaits us now we can overcome. I am positive that…”
“Are you questioning me?” Kalla'shan asked and the temperature in Corr'tane's quarters seemed to drop.
“No, sir.” He lowered his head. “Not at all.”
“Good,” the High Strategos said, then sighed. “Listen, Corr'tane. I know you are a good officer and I know you want to take your revenge on the Tuathaan. And when the time comes I will unleash you myself. But not yet. There is more to consider than just the Pact of Suns. There are two other powers who can affect the course of the war and we must time our actions with them.”
“I understand, sir.” Corr'tane nodded. The invasion was perfectly choreographed, a sweeping assault meant to crush the Pact in less than a year. His own task was to depopulate the billions of inhabitants on the primary Pact worlds to make way for the Ashani civilians, but without totally wrecking the planetary infrastructures through orbital bombardment or prolonged ground invasion. That meant his own specialty had to be brought into the picture: engineered biological plagues. Wiping out billions was theoretically easy. The problem he faced was engineering a plague deadly to the target species but safe for the following Ashani.
“The Ukhuri are a concern, Corr'tane. They are predatory and may threaten our flanks as we launch the invasion. We do business with them, lots of it, but that has never stopped them before from putting a knife into somebody's back if they thought the prize was big enough. To avoid this from happening High Command has opted to open talks with them,” Kalla'shan noted absently. “We'll probably give them some Pact worlds we don't want so they can profit from the war.”
“Buying them off? And the Rasenni?”
“Well, Corr'tane. That's the real issue, isn't it?” Kalla'shan mused seemingly to himself, as if his best student wasn't present. “They won't admit it, but the Rasenni are troubled by us. We remind them too much of their own past. And that fear may cause them to act irrationally, to attack us while we are overstretched. However, there is something going in our favor, an example of fate smiling on us.”
“And that is, sir?”
“The Rasenni Emperor is dying.” Kalla'shan smiled. “And when he dies there will be the usual months of squabbling among the Rasenni principalities before the successor takes charge. The most likely man to take the throne is one Lord Áedh, reportedly something of a pacifist.”
“A man not likely to start a war with us,” Corr'tane nodded. “Especially if has to calm down the Senate and establish a solid power base first.”
“Exactly.” The old High Strategos smiled contently at his student's quick grasp on the nature of the situation. “A foreign war would be impossible for him to wage within a year of ascending the throne. Gods willing, by then we'll have conquered all we need. And naturally his position would be even more precarious if the Ukhuri were to stir up some trouble of their own during the transitional period. I hear they have ships already massing near the Oscan.”
Corr'tane grinned widely. Gods, the old Strategos could still weave a rich tapestry of deception. He didn't know how much of a hand he had in matters, but it would only need one or two nudges from him to convince the Ukhuris that the death of the Emperor was a perfect time to exact a measure of revenge, and at the same time keep both governments out of the Dominion's plans. “My compliments, sir. And my apologies. I should not have questioned your strategy.”
“You are my best student Corr'tane,” the old man offered one of his rare smiles. “Of all the Strategoi you are the most gifted, the most determined, the most pure. It is in you the future of the Dominion rests. You are what we should all aspire to, the prime example of our race.”
Corr'tane was stunned into silence. Kalla'shan was a legend, the most successful of all Ashani commanders and a man as tough as hardened plates. He never said more than a few words, and even the tiniest praise from him could make an officers career. To see him smile and hear him speak so frankly and openly was completely unexpected. It took Corr'tane all his effort just to keep his jaw closed.
“I have followed your progress closely, Strategos Corr'tane. And I do not say these things lightly. Know this: I have considered you a son in many ways, and my natural successor when the time comes.”
“Master, I do not know what to say,” he gasped and bowed deeply.
“Say nothing. I'm merely explaining the facts as I see them. When this war comes I will have to rely greatly on you. I know I can trust you not to fail me. In the meantime continue your research, be ready. We invade when the Rasenni emperor dies, and not before.”
“Understood, sir.” Corr'tane stood to attention.
“You are my chosen, Strategos Corr'tane,” Kalla'shan said. “The Chosen of the Ashani. Do not forget that.”
“I won't, sir. And I will prove that I've earned that title.”
“You already have.” He smiled again.
Corr'tane thought it was probably only for the second time in the grizzled soldier's entire life. Then the image disappeared, leaving him breathless. He had known Kalla'shan for years, but the High Strategos had never once taken him into his confidence, not as he had done now. Perhaps he really was as important as he thought. The realization was nerve wracking, but also deeply exciting. He was being lined up to rule his people, to command the great empire they were about to forge from the ruins of lesser races. It was the greatest honor – and he knew that it was something he could handle. Ten years ago that had been different.
* * * * * * *
“Commander Corr'tane!” the haughty voice had said, causing him to swivel quickly in his chair. The rank and the bright white walls of the research center still dazzled him from time to time especially if he was interrupted unexpectedly.
“Oh, what can I do for you?” he gave the technician standing in the door frame a pleasant smile.
The technician slammed a stack of papers down on the young scientist' desk with a face like thunder, and rapidly Corr'tane's smile vanished. The lab technician was at least forty years older than he and known as a formidable personality throughout the facility. Corr'tane may well have been in charge of the research facility in name, but it was this old technician who really ran things. “What the hell is this!”
“Work schedules,” he squeaked defensively, cowed by the man's fury.
“I can see that,” he snarled. “But why am I pulling a double shift in the nano-engineering labs?”
“Because you are the expert in
cyber-organics, and we need that element of research completed before we can proceed with anything else. So it needs working on quickly, and you're the most qualified man I've got for the job.”
“I'm not working a double shift,” he sneered.
“But you have to?!" Corr'tane paused. “It's an order. We must get this work done quickly – as fast as possible.”
“Why? Why the hell should we? What's the damn rush?” he folded his arms and glared at him.
Corr'tane had been sworn to tell nobody about the approaching disaster, not even the research facility's staff. “You should do it because I told you to,” he replied with no conviction in his wavering voice.
The old technician snorted and walked away, bluntly telling him where he could shove the work schedules.
He stayed in his chair, ashamed of himself for being dominated by someone who was supposed to work for him. Corr'tane had only been here for a few weeks, and already the stress of the work and the responsibility was getting to him. Gods, he was too young for this, too young to run a hundred staff for the military. He just wasn't a born leader. With the stress of the past weeks mounting inside him he knew that tears of frustration were beginning to well in his eyes. His mind screamed at him, telling him to just quit and save himself further embarrassment.
But there was another voice, a cool calm reminder that unless he got a grip the planet would die. They all would die. It seemed such an extreme thing to say to himself, but the more he repeated it the more it mattered, and the more it drowned out his doubts and convinced him to do something. With a sudden burst of energy and rage he grabbed the work sheets and tore off after the unruly technician.
Corr'tane found him up on the second sub-level in the nano-engineering labs. He was alone, having a snack in the secure area behind the thick glass walls there. Food was strictly regulated on the facility because of the risk of disrupting sterile environments. The senior technician's actions were blatantly flaunting the rules. The man didn't even deign to acknowledge his presence.
“Technician, it is customary to stand when a superior officer enters the room,” Corr'tane barked sharply.
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