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To Brakal’s surprise, First Deputy Director Kroesh did not resemble a conniving, devious bureaucrat at all. Dress him in an Imperial Ground Forces uniform, and he would pass for a senior combat commander, right down to the Warrior Caste ruff of fur on top of his angular, bony skull.
“Lord of Clan Makkar. Or do you prefer Admiral? Or perhaps Speaker of the Kraal?” Kroesh raised his fist in salute as he entered the manor’s reception room where Brakal waited for his guest.
“Brakal will suffice, First Deputy Director. Those who hide behind titles, especially in private, are often hiding something else.”
A rumble of amusement rose up Kroesh’s broad chest.
“There is truth in what you say. And if I am to address you by name, then I ask that you do me the same honor.”
Brakal made a gesture of respectful assent, then indicated the sideboard.
“Would you take a libation before the meal, Kroesh?”
“I would.” The muscular Tai Kan official turned toward the extensive display of bottles. “Your house serves a fine vintage of the best ale, Brakal. I shall sample it with pleasure.”
At Brakal’s nod, Toralk, who led the visitor in and now stood silently by the open doorway, stirred into motion and served Kroesh.
After a healthy sip, the latter said, “As if brewed by the gods themselves. Did you know the humans can not only consume this without ill effects, they apparently prize it above many of their own concoctions?”
“Do they now? Fascinating. And does it affect their metabolism in the same way as it does ours?” Brakal accepted a bottle of ale from Toralk.
“So I understand. Perhaps sentient species which evolved to breathe the same gas mixtures and live under similar climatic conditions share more in common than we think. The humans developed a theory they call panspermia,” Kroesh mangled the unfamiliar word beyond recognition. “It posits that life at a microscopic level was distributed throughout the galaxy by space dust, meteoroids, asteroids, comets and such things over incalculable periods, seeding planets hospitable to life everywhere. Some even believe an elder race might have seeded planets such as ours, Earth, Arkanna, and more, deliberately with the very building blocks of life. Or if you believe in the legends of the L’Taung civilization, perhaps not our present home world but that which gave birth to the imperial race eons ago, far from here. In any case, the humans also formulated several related theories attempting to explain why our part of the galaxy has such a prevalence of bipedal, bilateral sapient species able to survive in each other’s environments and to a certain extent, consume each other’s food and drink.”
When he sensed Brakal’s interest, Kroesh added, “I can ask my aide to send you what we culled from human databases on the subject, if you wish.”
“Please do so. Anything that gives me knowledge about our foe is always welcome.”
Brakal felt strangely pleased with his guest’s display of esoteric knowledge about humans. It made a pleasant change from the average bureaucrat, both military and civilian, infesting Shredar. And, as with Kroesh’s warrior-like demeanor, made a lie of the notion all senior Tai Kan officers were deceitful, weak creatures who used fear to gain respect.
“Ah, yes. Knowledge about our foe.” Kroesh took another sip and studied Brakal for a few moments. “Something that has lacked from the start. When Mishtak first raised the idea of attacking the human empire and thereby gain glory for the child emperor Tumek, my superior, Director Yatron immediately sensed an opportunity to enlarge the Tai Kan and his own power. As a result, he demanded we become the empire’s outward-facing eyes on top of our traditional duties. A failure, I should think.”
“Very much so.”
“It also weakened the Tai Kan’s internal security capability to the point where those who oppose Mishtak and the ruling council operate with impunity. And I do not speak merely of the Kraal, you understand. That challenge is new. No, there is more happening beneath the surface on the homeworld and on every imperial planet than meets the senses and has been for a long time. Things that could trigger enough unrest to weaken us further in our fight against the humans. Discontent. Feelings of alienation among subject races. Criminal elements. Corruption.” Kroesh paused to take a sip. “The sooner we can shed our ill-conceived intelligence-gathering duties, the sooner we can refocus on internal security.”
“Will Director Yatron see reason and relinquish them to a new service created just for such a purpose?”
Kroesh’s lips peeled back.
“No. It would take someone strong, a Shrehari with the entire power of government in his hand to force such a change.”
“One starting with Director Yatron’s removal.”
“Just so. You are perceptive, precisely as Regar claims.”
Something in Kroesh’s manner suddenly felt strange, and Brakal tilted his head to one side, studying him with impassive eyes.
“How is Regar known to you?”
“The whelp of a family friend, one whose career I helped along because he is both honorable and intelligent. When you were given command of Tol Vehar, he was my choice as your political officer.”
“Why?”
“Because you struck me as one of the few Deep Space Fleet commanders who beheld the universe, the humans, and this damnable war with a clear, unsentimental gaze. And it appears my impression was correct.”
“So you know about Regar’s dreams for a Tai Zohl, an outward-looking eye, and you approve.”
“Of course.”
For a moment, the horrifying notion a faction within the Tai Kan was manipulating him overcame Brakal. But they could not have foreseen the human battleship destroying Khorsan Base, which led to his dismissal and his subsequent return home intent on reviving the Kraal.
Then, as if Kroesh could read his mind, he said, “No, we are not using you, Brakal. Watching you, yes. That was Regar’s duty. Helping you where we could, that as well. Hoping you would somehow gain enough influence before this war destroyed us, definitely, because you are among those who truly know how disastrous Mishtak’s decision to invade human space was since you are one of the few who understand our enemies. Your return to the homeworld took us by surprise, as did your open opposition to the council and the energy with which you are reviving the Kraal. But we are pleased.”
“You keep using the plural. Who are the others?”
“Like-minded individuals in the directorates I control. Government officials responsible for security and law enforcement with whom I interact. Palace officials fearful the dynasty might lose the support of the citizenry thanks to Mishtak’s intransigence and who whisper in my ear. And many others. Much is bubbling beneath the surface in Shredar and has been while you were fighting the humans on our frontiers. However, the various strands of disquiet need a catalyst to transcend mere words and become facts, something which will unite the disparate anti-Mishtak elements in pursuit of a common goal.”
“And I am to be that catalyst?”
“You already are.” An air of amusement seemed to cross Kroesh’s face. “More is happening in Shredar of late than just the somnolent Kraal awakening to the cries of an empire in distress, though you know it not.”
“And who controls these happenings?”
“No one. For now. But unless the Kraal truly rises and challenges Mishtak, things might spiral out of anyone’s control when the time comes.”
Brakal grunted before taking another mouthful of ale. After swallowing, he said, “And that brings us to Unagroth and others of his sort who might waver under the council’s pressure — or its threats.”
“The reason why Regar decided it was finally time you and I spoke openly.”
“Correct. Satisfy my curiosity, if you will, Kroesh. When would you and I have spoken openly if not for Regar thinking the time was finally right?”
Kroesh made a gesture combining uncertainty with dismissal.
“Perhaps another reason would have arisen, or we would have continued to support you from afar until it became opportune for a formal and public meeting between us.”
“Such as when the Kraal would search for a new Tai Kan director?”
“The soon to be named kho’sahra rather than the Kraal, but yes.”
Brakal drained his bottle and held it out for Toralk, refusing a fresh one with a wave of the hand.
“You expect me to become that kho’sahra.”
“Surely you don’t think Mishtak will cooperate with the Kraal and admit his war was a mistake. He will refuse your entreaties. That leaves us with one course of action. Forcing the council’s dissolution in favor of a kho’sahra. And according to our ancient traditions, the dictator must be a clan lord who is also an admiral or a general.”
“There are many of us who are both.”
“None with a vision to end this war before the dynasty falls and fall it will if the enemy ever turns our space into his playground. The regent supported Mishtak. His failure will be hers and her son’s. Pray no human warships appear in the home system while Mishtak still governs in Lady Kembri’s name. His failure to protect the heart of the empire would be more than anyone could bear and instead of a power transition accompanied by a few hundred arrests, we might face a bloodbath on the Field of Honor.”
“You ask much of me.”
Kroesh’s lips curled back again.
“Nothing you do not ask of yourself. Be honest, Brakal. You saw a future as kho’sahra the instant you resolved to rouse the Kraal and force Mishtak’s hand. You believe no one else could do better in ending the war and healing the empire.”
Brakal made a gesture of agreement.
“No one currently inhabiting the Forbidden Quarter. They would rather hide behind the belief in a final victory we cannot achieve, even if it costs us everything. Some of them would rather the empire perish in fire and blood than admit invading human space was a fatal mistake. Others spent turns drinking at the well of their own propaganda and are utterly blind to reality.”
“Then there is nothing left to discuss. We are in perfect agreement. I will make sure Unagroth and enough undecided Kraal members vote with the military lords, even once you face the necessity of removing the governing council and electing a kho’sahra.”
“What if the Kraal, in its wisdom, chooses another military lord for that honor?”
“An unlikely outcome. The military lords know you and the fire you carry within. The civilian lords know of Clan Makkar’s honor, their own losses to the council’s increasing taxes, and not much more. They will gladly hand the problem of our war against the humans to someone else.”
“And what if Mishtak launches a disinformation campaign branding the Kraal as traitors to delegitimize it and its decisions? Or separate the military lords from the civilian lords?”
“No one with a molecule of sense believes what comes out of the Forbidden Quarter any more. Common born or noble, let alone those who labor in the various ministries.”
“Shredar overflows with those who don’t even boast a single atom of common sense.” A thoughtful expression crossed Brakal’s face. “It makes me wonder what hold Mishtak has on Lady Kembri. She is cunning and ruthless in protecting her whelp until he rules in his own right. Surely she knows which way the winds of war are blowing.”
“Does it matter? If the Kraal petitions her to dismiss the council and accept a kho’sahra named by the four hundred or face a coup which would taint her regency, Lady Kembri will choose wisely.” Kroesh tapped his midriff with a clenched fist. “My hunger stirs, Lord of Clan Makkar, and I hear you set a fine table. I should honor it as few would in this city.”
“Regar informed you of my table?” Brakal gestured toward the door leading to the dining room.
“No. He is discrete on matters concerning your clan, your house, and your privacy, as befits someone sworn to your service. You did well in accepting his oath. He will serve you as no other if you give him the chance to form a Tai Zohl.”
“And you will head the Tai Kan. If not Regar informing the universe of Clan Makkar’s culinary delights, then who?”
Another amused expression curled up Kroesh’s black lips.
“That would be telling. We perforce share common acquaintances. Shredar is a big city in area and population, but for our sort, it is a mere village replete with gossips. Fear not. Your friends are loyal, and your supporters have motivations that will keep them honest.”
“Our sort?”
“Those concerned for the welfare of the empire, its ruling dynasty, and a future devoid of bloody dynastic change.”