Page 4 of Clan and Command

The subordinate admirals bowed to him and chorused, “Sir.” They stood at attention as Hobato left.

Tranis motioned to the humming sound blocker on his desk. “Anything else?”

“No,” Piras grunted. “That was plenty.”

Tranis switched off the machine that kept any bugging devices from relaying conversations to those who might attempt to listen in. “If you’re going to your office, I’m heading in the same direction as you. Shall we walk together?”

Piras nodded and preceded Tranis out into the corridor. He was relieved to have finished the meeting without looking at the clan portraits on the dark gray wall.

Piras and Tranis walked side by side down the wide corridor. Aides and other officers passed by, muttering amongst themselves in hushed tones. The quiet conversations held excitement, and expressions were avid. Admiral Banrid’s treachery was no doubt the focus of everyone’s attention.

Only Piras and Tranis were silent as they navigated their course through the silvery-walled hall. They were in the wing that contained all the offices of the highest-ranked officers of Fleet Command, where they themselves helped direct Kalquor’s space arm of the military. Where up until now they’d enjoyed a slight advantage over the vessels the Basma had won to his side, roughly a third of the original fleet.

Now Maf had Earther battlecruisers, maybe a thousand of them. The thought curdled Piras’s guts.

Though Tranis walked alongside him, there was nothing Piras wished to say to his once-first officer. The only conversation they might have had was top-secret. Talking about personal things…such as how Lidon was doing in his new career as a Global Security officer…would have been more awkward than the silence that weighed between them.

Lidon. Just thinking the Nobek’s name made Piras’s stomach hurt.

Fortunately, they neared the traitor Banrid’s office, giving Piras no need to fill the uneasy quiet. A contingent of Fleet Security was filing in and out of the room. The scarred, brutal-looking Nobeks who safeguarded headquarters guided small hover carts out of the office. The carts were heaped with the treacherous admiral’s personal and official belongings: commendations, computer, com, and various other items.

Piras and Tranis were stopped by one of the red-armored Nobeks to verify their right to be in High Command’s section. They paused without complaint as their credentials were verified. They were waved past the open doorway, which Piras couldn’t help but try to glance into. A concealment field, showing a pale sheet of nothingness, blocked his view of whatever evidence-gathering was going on inside the office.

“Hard to believe. I never would have guessed it of Banrid,” Piras muttered.

“Shocking,” Tranis agreed. He shot Piras the haunted look he’d worn since the horrific end of the previous conflict, when Earth was destroyed by her own leaders rather than surrender to Kalquor. “We’re tearing ourselves apart with this civil war. For what end? What is happening to us?”

It was a younger man’s question, the kind asked by only those who had not seen what Tranis had. That the Dramok still possessed the idealism to wonder such a thing made Piras feel as old as Hobato.

Piras heard a gruff voice in his head give the answer, a voice as familiar as it was heart wrenching. He repeated the wisdom Tranis’s spiritually-minded warrior clanmate would have said. “The usual. The wish for power. Wanting what one doesn’t have. Fear.”

“Many captured traitors have claimed they were blackmailed into what they’ve done. That they were victims.”

“The Basma’s son testified to that. Maf’s web of deceit has been dragging in conspirators, both willing and not, for a long time. Perhaps it will come out that Banrid was such a dupe.”

“Foolish men making foolish choices that Maf capitalized on. Now we’re paying for it in blood. He’ll destroy us all.”

Piras’s tone was dry. “Of course he will. Promoting extinction over interbreeding is his endgame, after all.”

Tranis chose to ignore the veiled slight. “Now Maf has another tyrant at his side. With Browning Copeland added to the fun, we get to fight two insane fanatics.”

“Life is marvelous, don’t you think? Next thing you know, we’ll have to fight Trag and Bi’is at the same time too. Because destiny has decided to fuck the Empire and all that we stand for.” Piras rubbed a hand over his face. “Sorry. I’m venting. This war has put me in a permanent bad mood.”

“What we discussed earlier isn’t helping either. You are the best man for it though, Admiral. I really believe that.”

Piras didn’t know what to say to that. It almost sounded like admiration, which Tranis would never offer him in a million years. Fortunately, they reached Piras’s office, and he could escape the other man before the conversation went any further. With relief, Piras sketched the expected bow.

Tranis didn’t return the courtesy right away. Instead, the other Dramok gazed at him for a long beat. He finally said, “Lidon’s doing well.”

Piras’s breath stopped for a moment. When he could speak, he blurted, “I didn’t ask.”

“I know.” Tranis bowed and walked away, leaving Piras staring after him.

Chapter 2

Hobato and Tranis had not offered a time when Piras’s spy contact might show up. With no idea of when to expect his unknown visitor, he tried to settle down to get some work done.

His attempt to be productive was in vain, of course. Now that he had time to contemplate the proffered mission, he couldn’t get anything accomplished. Too many questions buzzed in his head. Which was stupid, because he couldn’t hope to find answers on his own. He didn’t know enough. Yet as fruitless as obsessing over what the secret assignment might entail and who besides Tranis had put his name forward for it, he was consumed by the mysteries anyway. It made him tense. Being tense made him grouchy. Being grouchy made him short with everyone around him, and most subordinates already thought him a brutal hardass of a commanding officer.

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