by Aer-ki Jyr
“No. The enemy is not engaging us when they have the option to run. Those times when they cannot they are doing what damage they can, targeting individual ships for destruction. I’ve instructed our commanders to withdrawal those vessels in such occasions, but we have lost a few when they stupidly chose to remain in position. Each ship we lose is a defeat, but we have not lost a full battle since the core world strike.”
“Then in what danger are we?” the Royal asked obtusely.
“We are in danger of allowing the enemy to grow to a level where they can threaten us. Joining the Nexus advanced us considerably, but we are not safe. The Li’vorkrachnika have not been beaten, and now that we’ve shown we can hit their core worlds they are paying us more attention than before. It is only a matter of time before we are isolated and surrounded,” he said, bringing up a specific intelligence report that he’d only received 18 days ago.
“This is the beginning of a trend, I fear,” Gavra said, highlighting a neutral system on the starmap situated in between two widely spaced H’kar worlds. “The Li’vorkrachnika have placed a semi-permanent raiding fleet in the Kiltuum System. They are disrupting traffic, killing what civilian ships they can, then running when our warships arrive. I believe they will continue to do so, and we do not have the ships necessary to secure our shipping lanes. If this continues we will either have to dedicate vessels to Kiltuum or reroute traffic flow. Either way is a win for the enemy.”
“Assume they do the same for 100 other systems, and tell me again how safe we are.”
The H’kar to Gavra’s left bristled with the insult that the military commander was throwing the Royal’s way. “Then it’s time to recall our ships from the ADZ. We obviously need them to secure our own territory.”
Gavra made a click/clash noise so violent that all the H’kar around him visibly shook with surprise.
“You have said as much yourself,” the Royal reminded him calmly.
“I have been stupid and unwilling to see the truth,” Gavra admitted. “Recent events have forced my vision to clear. We are making the same mistakes we made before, emboldened by Nexus membership. Our methods saw us lose the first time, nearly to the point of extinction before Samenra ordered the evacuation. He was shamed and exiled for that decision later, but it saved our race. Had we stood our ground and fought it out we would not be here today.”
“He was right to do so,” the H’kar on Gavra’s right said irreverently, “for it brought us into contact with the Nexus.”
“But you still speak of him with shame, as most of us do. We did not learn, and now that we have superior technology to the enemy we have fallen back to using flawed strategy, myself included. I however am learning to adapt…or at the very least learning how to read a scorecard,” he said, bringing up another display, this one with numerical tallies.
“This is the killcount for our fleets operating out of Star Force territory. Compare with those here…”
“Those numbers are being augmented…”
“No,” Gavra said, cutting off the H’kar to his left. “I have omitted partial ship kills. These are those resulting only from our weaponry. Our fleets, when operating under Star Force command, are destroying more enemy ships than those here, and the Star Force warlords are keeping our fleets virtually untouched in the engagements. I will not recall them when they are doing more damage to the enemy there than we are doing here.”
“Our mandate takes priority here.”
“The enemy is the same, their ships do not belong to any one region. If we kill them here or there it does not matter, only the number is relevant. Furthermore, the performance rates of those crews who have participated in the raiding fleets increases once they are cycled back into our standard forces. We are not only killing Li’vorkrachnika in considerable numbers there, we are learning how to fight them better. I will not recall those fleets, and I am here to recommend we augment them.”
“If we are already shorthanded,” the Royal said, beginning to think Gavra was going senile, “how can we spare anymore?”
“Our worlds are secure for the moment, and we are losing the region regardless. We need to fuel our successes, and right now those are only occurring in the raiding fleets.”
“We have a mandate to acquit,” the H’kar senior diplomatic officer said, whose primary duty was dealing with Nexus issues.
Gavra pivoted around, shuffling his footpoints until he squarely faced the H’kar on his left. “It is time we acknowledge that we have failed in our mandate and move on.”
“We cannot!”
“It has already occurred.”
“If we admit failure,” the Royal interrupted, “we run the risk of losing our Nexus membership. If that happens they will reclaim the technology granted to us. Our civilization will be cannibalized.”
“That will not happen, and I am not suggesting any political push. I am saying that we should admit to ourselves that we have failed and stop trying to protect systems that we cannot. We must focus on the long term while we still have the benefit of strong worlds. The Li’vorkrachnika will take them eventually, this I can promise you, if we do not alter our course.”
“You are talking nonsense, Gavra,” the diplomatic officer said, exchanging a questioning glance with the Royal. “No Nexus member world has ever fallen without an immediate and massive reprisal from the other members. They are our insurance against the Li’vorkrachnika. If we abandon our mandate we abandon them…and we will be committing the equivalent of suicide.”
“Define ‘immediate?’” Gavra demanded, throwing the other H’kar off balance with the simple question.
“You know the battle history better than I do, I assume.”
“Yes I do, but I no longer underestimate our enemy. We hit one of their most valuable worlds and took away an equally valuable asset, one that no one, to my knowledge, has ever touched before. And how do they respond? Calmly. They increase their efforts here drastically, but with no overt moves. No big battles. In fact, they are attacking less than before. Perhaps the resilience of our ships scared them, but they do not quit. Instead they hit us where we are weak, where we cannot defend.”
“I ask you this,” he said, raising his voice and using it to verbally beat down the non-military H’kar, “what happens if the enemy strikes ALL of our worlds simultaneously, with enough numbers to destroy our populations? They will undoubtedly lose their fleets in the process, such as we did to kill their shipyard, but our people will be dead, our industry crippled, and our defeat all but complete before even one ship from the other races arrives to avenge us.”
“So I ask you again, will their backup be immediate? Or is that just a comforting lie you tell yourself to preserve this false security you cling to.”
“You speak of fiction yourself,” the H’kar on his opposite side said. “They cannot launch such an attack of this scale, not against all of our worlds.”
“Perhaps not today, but they are growing. How long do we have until they reach that numerical strength?”
The H’kar didn’t answer. He wasn’t convinced, but didn’t have a retort handy.
“How does increasing our fleet size in the ADZ help counter this possibility?” the Royal asked.
“We cannot defeat the Li’vorkrachnika,” Gavra said plainly, his words essentially treason as far as H’kar philosophy was concerned. “But they are, slowly, in small parts. They are holding their territory and slowly expanding it. The Li’vorkrachnika are expanding faster, growing larger, but they are, for reasons I don’t fully understand, unable or unwilling to topple Star Force and its allies, one of whom I’m told has come from further away to specifically aid Star Force. An ally that has, what is rumored to be, Nexus-level technology. For whatever reason they value Star Force’s ability to stand against the enemy and are assisting in their raiding fleets as well.”
“We would be wise to do the same, and I for one will not risk the future of our race to appease those who foolishly cling to the old
ways. I admit, until recently I was one of them, but through the strategic savvy of our enemy in recent days and the lashings of my old master I have forced myself to reconsider many things. I will not waste my time trying to do the same with you,” he said, looking at those non-military personnel that ran most of the empire for the Royals, “nor will I waste our limited resources on strategies that the Li’vorkrachnika have proven time and again to be impotent.”
“Are the other commanders in agreement with your assessments?” the Royal asked, suspecting otherwise.
“Most are not,” Gavra admitted.
“Why then should I sanction this ambiguous new strategy?”
Gavra stared back at the Royal, this time with no respect. “To keep the empire from fracturing.”
“Explain yourself,” the Royal said, the first hint of anger in his voice.
“Most of the other commanders are not in agreement, but a few are. More importantly I have already sent orders to dispatch the appropriate ships to Star Force territory, as have some of the others.”
“You have no authority!” one of the H’kar standing behind the three in front of the Royal shouted.
“I am in command,” Gavra said forcefully, “and it is my mandate to protect our people. I will not fail in it, even if I end up suffering the same fate as Samenra. And there are others who are of similar mind.”
“But more important that that is this,” he continued before anyone else could speak, though there was considerable mandible clicking that he had to raise his voice to talk over. “Vedja has come out of retirement because he senses the danger we face, and the new ire we have invoked in the Li’vorkrachnika with our strike on their shipyard.”
The clicks shifted in a heartbeat at the mention of the legendary commander who almost singlehandedly had saved them from destruction during the time just prior to Nexus membership. He was held in great esteem, and his name alone gave weight to what Gavra was saying, not to mention the fact that the commander had been one of Vedja’s primary students.
“Who authorized his return to service?” the Royal asked, his tone uncertain as to which side to take in this dangerous schism that was forming. If one of the other Royals had done so he should have heard about it by now.
“I did,” Gavra said firmly. “And my old master is already en route to our colony in Star Force territory.”
“Colony? It is little more than an embassy,” the diplomatic officer said as the Royal virtually blanched, though his exoskeleton wouldn’t allow for any color change.
“It will grow if needed, for my Master has informed me that he intends to pursue this war bond with Star Force regardless of Royal sanction. He has few years left in him, and is willing to risk exile if it is necessary to save our race. I and a few others are willing to follow him, so I submit that sanctioning this endeavor is in the best interests of unity, for it is happening regardless of how many stubborn traditions we have to trample in the process.”
“You are far beyond your birthright,” the Royal warned.
“I know. But my mandate supersedes it, whether officially recognized or not.”
The Royal was silent for a long moment, but Gavra didn’t break his stare, underscoring that he was fully committed to this. Others would be as well, with Vedja involved.
“Why did you not come to me with these concerns earlier?”
“I was stubborn and did not want to admit the losing position that we are in.”
“And you believe that we are showing the same stubbornness?”
“I recognize it well.”
The Royal considered what Gavra was saying, not from a military position but from a political one. Nexus membership guaranteed the H’kar’s survival, so the threat of their defeat was farcical. Their mandate to protect their allotted region was not, and in that they were failing, though he’d never admit it publically. The only risk came from a revocation of membership, but he was aware that the Gfatt didn’t currently fault the H’kar for their inability to stop the Li’vorkrachnika, though that could always change going forward.
Vedja, however, changed things. The old warrior was a legend, and his involvement in this none too subtle treason made the Royal wonder if there was a greater threat involved or if he also realized the risk of a revocation of membership. Regardless, siding against him could very well split the H’kar empire and even run the small risk of triggering a civil war, not in a military sense, but by fracturing the political bonds that held them together.
They were safe, the Royal reminded himself, so long as the Nexus did not abandon them.
“If Vedja thinks this is of merit, then let us not bicker. Keep what ships are necessary to defend our worlds and maintain a semblance of our duty to the Nexus mandate, then send as many others as you wish. We will fully support Vedja in this, and hope that his genius leads to a second pivotal moment in our race’s history.”
Gavra didn’t say anything further, nor did he gloat. He simply offered a small gesture of respect before withdrawing, realizing he’d just won the political war and gained more than he’d hoped. How the rest of the H’kar empire would respond he didn’t know, but this region’s resources were going to the ADZ…as many as he could spare, anyway.
6
May 31, 2680
Szequat System (Voku territory)
Nergthen
When Cal-com arrived back at his race’s homeworld it was with some displeasure. He had been summoned to return, but without any notification as to why. The priority summons couldn’t be ignored, but it had come during one of his planning sessions with Warlord Paul as they began mapping out the reconquest of what had once been Calavari territory. Such a task was a bold one, and Cal-com wasn’t convinced that it could be done so quickly, but the pair worked so well together they were laying out the difficulties and devising countermeasures in an attempt to see just how far down the road their plans could become reality when the summons had arrived.
He’d left immediately, with all apologies given to Paul, and headed back across the long journey between the ADZ and Voku space. During that time he wondered what would have been important enough to recall him, and now that he’d finally arrived he still couldn’t deduce a valid reason. Only two individuals had the authority to summon him back in such a manner, one was the Brosika and the other the Letrifiv.
The Brosika was the Voku’s chief of tranquility, tasked with maintaining the inner workings of their civilization and hunting down problems before they began. With any interstellar empire, let alone one the size that the Voku sported, divisions could easily occur with the distances and communication lag, thus preserving a single cultural identity was a huge necessity that could not be overstated. The Brosika held the responsibility of holding the Voku together, not through censorship or restraints, but through a gentle push or pull here or there dictated by the tenants of wisdom.
The Letrifiv was the complete opposite and responsible for the day to day running of the empire. It was the highest administratorial position and also the most difficult, with an insane amount of data to process daily. Even with a support staff the Letrifiv needed to know everything that was going on in order to insure that an oversight didn’t leave a planet without enough foodstuffs for the coming year or that the fuel supply wouldn’t exhaust itself leaving ships stranded insystem. While local administrators accomplished a variety of tasks independently, it was the Letrifiv that had to keep the empire’s priorities fulfilled, and as such he was the most knowledgeable person in the empire when it came to current events.
Both leaders held a slightly higher position within Voku society than a Renimar, but they respected each other enough not to give orders. The military was separate and the third part of the trinary that made up Voku society, but technically the Letrifiv and Brosika were co-rulers…though the term ‘ruler’ had a different meaning for the Voku, since they all served the Elders’ will.
The small conglomerate that brought Cal-com back home passed through their orbital d
efense grids without delay, being allowed immediate and priority access through the defense fleet screens, bypassing the Kastas, and coming into very low orbit where a tiny bit of the conglomerate broke off and headed down into the thin atmosphere of the planet with the Renimar onboard. It was allowed direct access to the Hall of Majesty, which was the capitol within the capitol and the home of the Letrifiv and Brosika, when the Brosika was insystem, for he was traveling almost nonstop.
When Cal-com’s ship landed he was escorted by an honor guard into the sprawling complex that he had become well accustomed to since he became a Renimar, though most of his duties kept him away, similar to the Brosika. So it wasn’t a great surprise that he noticed the change in architecture within the Hall of Majesty when they entered a particular wing. Cal-com remained silent and simply observed, seeing more and more alterations that appeared to be of extremely new construction, yet all were complete with no signs of ongoing work.
Then when they turned a corner the size of the architecture changed drastically, and the Renimar saw himself standing in a foyer large enough for a starship to land in, and in fact he could see on the distant roof the markings indicating that there was a hidden exit to the sky built into the structure that could be opened at will. But it was the huge doors that stood closed before him and the presence of both Yev’jat and the Letrifiv waiting for him that truly shocked him.
The honor guard stopped in their tracks as Yev’jat waved them off, leaving only the three leaders behind as the infantry retreated to a respectful distance away from the doors.
“What is this place?” Cal-com asked, having to crane his neck up to see the top of the doors that stretched a third of the way up to the ceiling.
“An Elder is here,” the Letrifiv said, almost a whisper.
Cal-com immediately stiffened with awe and shock, then forced himself to push the foolish emotions aside. “Why have I been recalled?”
“The Elder specifically requested your presence. I am sorry I could not tell you by message,” his fellow Renimar said, “but his presence is not to be made known to the public. He comes and goes as he chooses, but aside from the nearby eyes no trace of him is recorded. Our machines will not betray his existence, and I could not do so in message either.”