"Five Divisions?" Staffa wondered. "And Fist's strength?"
"For all practical purposes, he was outnumbered five to one. He has thrown away their assault manual and instituted the most innovative strategies to keep himself alive. Needless to say, he's most definitely a military genius. From the beginning, he has constantly been outnumbered, in a strategic nightmare, and in control of green troops. With veterans, there's no telling what he could do."
:'Then I take it Rega didn't drop their best on him?" 'Quite the contrary," Bruen grumbled. "Tybalt sent Commander Rysta Braktov's group of veteran-"
"Fist defeated Henck and Valvet and Singtow and Weebouw?" Staffa demanded, coming bolt upright. "Rysta wouldn't go anywhere without them in her command."
"You would know better than I." Bruen lifted a bony shoulder. "The fact remains, Weebouw and Beemhan are dead along with their commands. Henck, Valvet, and Singtow are currently in Fist's prison and he's negotiating with
Ily Takka-yes, the very same. She arrived almost a week ago and watched the battle."
"Then she knows I'm here," Staffa whispered to himself, leaning back in the seat.
"Oh, I doubt it." Bruen shivered and reached under the seat to flip a pile of insulation blankets out, passing them to the rear after he'd wrapped one around himself. Kaylla took hers thankfully although the cool air soothed Staffa. "She thinks you're safely back in the Itreatic Asteroids with Skyla Lyma. The last place she would expect you would be is here. "
"She should be worried about me being loose. She knows that one word to Tybalt and she's dead. "
"I started to tell you." Bruen smacked his lips distastefully. "Ily has convinced Tybalt that the Companions are under contract to Sassa, that you lied when you said you wouldn't dicker. Your presence on Etaria is considered proof since you didn't enter under your own name but veiled your identity when you arrived. Any Regan ship will no doubt fire on a Companion vessel."
Staffa ground his teeth. "That's insane! Rega can't stand against the Companions. No one can!"
Bruen slowed the car, the round vault of his head silhouetted in the darkness as he turned to look back at Staffa. "11y doesn't think so. She thinks she's found her answer."
"I'll never deal with Tybalt as long as she's in power. What she did to Kaylla and me on Etaria-"
"Has nothing to do with it," Bruen interrupted. "She's no longer concerned with you, Staffa kar Therma. At least not in regard to Rega's expansion into Sassan territory. She'll worry about you all right, but when she's in position to strike you a crippling blow. Indeed, she's found someone whom she thinks can destroy Sassa… and you.
"That's a bold assumption."
"Sinklar Fist is a bold man," Bruen replied, accelerating into the darkness again.
Chapter 28
The number of report files had steadily declined in the window on Skyla's computer monitor that kept track of such things. She lifted the stassa cup to her lips, and realized it was empty. Then she remembered she'd been trying
to drink from it for the last hour or so and hadn't taken the time to fill it again.
Damn, how long had she been up anyway? She rubbed her face to restore feeling and got to her feet. Her personal quarters felt cold, somehow sterile, not the relief she'd expected upon returning to Itreata. So many details needed to be attended to. Tap and Tasha were working every bit as hard as she. The Companions couldn't just be scrambled on a moment's notice. The ships had to be prepared, food stocked, systems checked, supplies loaded, personnel had to be recalled, and every single problem wound up needing her personal attention.
Her corn buzzed.
"Yes?" Skyla called. The monitor to her right flickered to life, and Nyklos stared out at her. "What do you need, Nyklos?"
He frowned, then stated matter-of-factly, "You look terrible.
"Have you got a problem?"
He laughed, enthusiastic smile curling his mustache. "You bet, sweet meat. I'm about to go completely berserk. You've got me locked up, under constant surveillance, and restricted so many ways that I can't fall asleep and dream without creating a security alert. How about letting one of my guards escort me up to your place for a quiet chat, a bottle of wine, and a great dinner?"
"That sounds wonderful, Nyklos, but I've got-"
"Wing Commander, you look like you haven't slept since
we docked on this flying rock. I've got a better idea. How about you come down and we go eat in the observation dome. It's more romantic."
"You're the last person alive I want to be romantic with." Nyklos pulled a coin from his pocket. "Make you a deal. I'll toss the coin. Heads, you come eat with me. Tails, I'll never speak to you again."
She lifted an eyebrow. "Toss it. But I'd better see it the whole time."
Nyklos threw the coin up, catching it in the monitor's pickup. He slapped it on the back of his hand. Tybalt's visage could be seen on the reflective surface. Nyklos added smugly, "See you soon. I'll order dinner for the observation dome. Oh, and do clear it so my guard will get me there."
Skyla killed the connection, glaring up at the pickup. "Security, have Nyklos transported to the observation dome. And clear his order for a dinner for two." "Acknowledged."
Skyla cast an evil eye at her computer and stood. She slapped her door patch and walked down the long white hallway. Damn Nyklos anyway. Still, she did need a break. Her mind had gone stale with fatigue. On top of everything, the intelligence coming out of Rega didn't look at all reassuring. A massive military call-up had begun. Ships were being rerouted. A major communications blackout had silenced the Empire.
On the other side, Myles Roma had been calling upon the hour to be reassured that the Companions hadn't taken contract with the Regans. As an example of Sassan worry, he'd hinted that if the Companions would contract with Sassa, they could name their price, hinting that Divine Sassa might hand the captured wealth of Rega to Staffa as payment.
Better to be a penniless live God than a corpse rolling in wealth.
Skyla stepped into the transport tube and input her destination. Then she settled on the cushioned bench as the pneumatic capsule shot across Itreata.
Closing her eyes, Staffa's image filled her mind. He watched her with curious gray eyes, a ghost of a smile on his lips. Then he turned, pointing into a hazy distance that darkened into blackness. Staffa remained illuminated by a
shaft of light while explosions rocked the ground. Vague images of people in flowing robes intermingled with violet blaster bolts as war raged. Regan soldiers came scurrying out of the blackness, blasters lacing fire here and there.
"Hurry," Staffa's voice called out and echoed as if from a hollow place.
"Wing Commander?" The voice intruded and Skyla jerked. The transport door stood open and a young girl with brown skin and almond eyes stared quizzically at her.
"Sorry," Skyla said, getting to her feet. "Must have dozed off. "
She stepped out and made her way to the observation dome. The giant dome dwarfed Nyklos where he stood under the flashing glory of the Twin Titans as they whipped around each other, shooting pulses of blinding blue light out into space.
Nyklos turned as she entered and Skyla waved his guard away. A table had been set up under the center of the dome. Heaping plates of broiled Ashtan lamb, simmered with vegetables, steamed on plates. Nyklos seated her and took his place opposite.
"Quite a view." He gestured toward the Twin Titans. "I'd heard it was pretty spectacular, but to see it? I never thought I would in my lifetime."
"Stranger things have happened." Skyla hadn't realized her hunger. She attacked the meal, aware of Nyklos watching her, concern in his eyes.
"You're tearing yourself apart, aren't you?" he asked in a gentle voice.