Page 60 of Clan and Command

Kila rolled his eyes at Piras. “In space? Cold as fuck, Dramok Sitrel. If you’re ever on my ship, I’ll invite you to take a stroll outside the airlock to experience it firsthand.”

A holo vid swam into view before the computer podium, eliciting a startled curse from Kila. A man stood there, a Kalquorian nearly as lithe in appearance as Piras. His body was more angular, however, destroying any semblance of the gracefulness Piras had been told he possessed. While not unattractive, Sitrel had the misfortune of a rather prominent nose, giving him a starved aspect since the rest of his face was narrow. His blue shirt and black trousers, while well-made and obviously expensive, looked shiny with wear at the knees, hips, and across his shoulders.

Kila recovered and with a warning look at Piras said, “Since when do we do vid viewing?”

“Since I want to study our new friend’s physical reactions. Do you have him present with his report? If so, relay a vid feed.”

Kila glowered. “This is a bad idea, Sitrel. A very bad idea.”

“Show him or we’re done. Your services will no longer be required, and they will become known to Fleet Command.”

Kila’s fangs unhinged. Piras nudged him. When the Nobek looked in response, Piras nodded his head. “Put me on, Captain.”

Kila’s expression remained furious, but he nodded back. He punched the buttons of his computer with more force than necessary, bringing up a return vid for Sitrel to see. He snarled, “Transmission confirmed.”

Piras stared at the Dramok’s image in front of him. “Dramok Sitrel.”

Sitrel sketched a brief bow, his face stretching in a smiling leer. “Admiral Piras. This is a pleasure.”

Piras’s hand itched. If Sitrel had been there in person, he’d have had a hard time not slapping the smug look off his face. Instead, he returned the sneer. “Mine as well.”

“And how is the illustrious Fleet Command taking our jabs at their colonies?”

Piras reported on the meeting, leaving nothing out. He told Sitrel of the plans to send in reinforcements from Rel Station, the number of ships responding to the attack, and as much of the strategy as he’d been made privy to.

Sitrel seemed pleased at the end of the recitation. “Hobato thinks the border with Bi’is is safe and sound. He’s complacent as to its security, as you thought he would be.”

“I have begun to feel reservations about Laro Station, however.” Piras sensed Kila twitch next to him. He didn’t react. Instead, he kept a steady, cool gaze on Sitrel.

“What reservations?” Sitrel’s smarmy expression faltered.

“I don’t know what kind of agreement the Basma has with those little gray shitheads. Whether it’s just for test subjects or if he intends the Bi’isils to help him win the Empire. What I do know is that they’ll turn on him the moment they think they can invade our home and take control.”

Sitrel relaxed and waved Piras’s concerns away. “The Basma is well aware of how untrustworthy Bi’is is. The instant the Empire is free of the Earther contagion, Bi’is will be repulsed. You have nothing to worry about.”

Piras let his temper show, his expression going as feral as Kila’s. “Do not patronize me, Dramok. When it comes to the Empire, I worry about everything. I warn you, not one Bi’isil pokes his big-eyed head in my space because the Basma’s fleet fucked up. If that happens, I will tear every last man involved a new asshole, starting with you. Then I’ll string up your bleeding carcass for everyone to see and learn from. After that gentle beginning, I’ll really make you pay.”

It was vintage Dramok Piras, the terror of the fleet, who ranted. While he didn’t indulge in screaming at the other man, he made sure the threat he promised rang true. That was no stretch. He already planned to tear Sitrel apart at his mission’s earliest convenience.

Sitrel got the message loud and clear to judge from his widened eyes and paled flesh. No sign of derisive scorn remained in his demeanor. It took a moment for him to recover enough to reassure Piras.

Almost fawning, he said, “We will not fail your faith in our glorious revolution, Admiral, especially with your invaluable contributions on our behalf. Our primary mission is not only to restore Kalquor’s honor, but to keep it safe once we have control.”

“See that you do. I will take any fuck-ups personally.”

“As you should. I cannot express how important you are to us, and how grateful we are to have you on our side. I assure you that the Basma will be relying on you a great deal. We feel we could not ask for a better man to do the job.”

Piras stood shaking and glaring for a moment more, feeling the cleansing sense of rage wash through him before snapping his head in acknowledgment. “If you are sincere, then you may be sure I will guard Kalquor against all of our enemies. For honor and Empire.”

“For honor and Empire, Admiral. Welcome aboard.”

“Piras out.”

Kila broke the connection, and Sitrel disappeared. Piras drew a deep breath before looking to the captain.

The Nobek grinned at him with naked admiration. “Not only did you convince him, but you took away all his authority as Maf’s right hand. You owned that asshole.”

Piras huffed. “That piece of garbage doesn’t deserve the power he’s been given. The sooner he figures out who the superior Dramok is, the better for us all.”

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