“So, despite all your promises and assurances—that human technology was inferior and yours was far more advanced—it turns out that they have the better technology.” Graagkhruud seemed pleased with himself, vindicated, as he said it.
An accusation scooped from the useless slurry of your own speciate insecurity, you impetuous and recidivistic predator. “Their technology is not better than ours, although it is far more diverse. But that was not what has tipped the balance this day.”
First Voice spoke before Graagkhruud could manage to respond. “Then what has, Speaker Kut?”
“Honored First Voice, the humans make war far more frequently than the Arat Kur. And, if my surmise is correct, in far more ways than either of us. And while the human megacorporations did provide us with complete data on the planet’s warfighting equipment, they were ill-suited to providing us with a comprehensive compendium of its operational alternatives. Besides, many of the tactics being employed by the humans are either wholly unprecedented, or being expressed in unique combinations that defy any simple understanding drawn from historical precedents.”
“We have a saying,” Caine offered quietly, “that general staffs are always preparing to fight the last war, not the next one.”
Graagkhruud snarled. “The simple truth is that the brilliant Arat Kur cannot think as quickly as warriors must.”
“Darzhee Kut’s insight and patience are praiseworthy,” Hu’urs Khraam inserted into the uncomfortable silence, and Graagkhruud either missed or ignored the implied rebuke, “but now I must ask that you allow him to attend to my question. Was I rash in rejecting the human offer of negotiation?”
“Not rash, Esteemed Hu’urs Khraam, but we may be running out of time. We might still have enough PDF and orbital interdiction left to protect us here, but the humans’ actions increasingly erode the former and overtax the latter. We might be able to hold out until our counterattacking flotilla returns, which would double our interdiction capability. However, if the flotilla does not triumph against the human fleet, then our only remaining relief is our Belt Fleet, and they will not arrive in time to salvage the situation.”
Hu’urs Khraam settled into his couch. “So, logically, we should await the outcome of the current fleet battle. If we prevail, as we should, we will still hold the upper hand.”
Riordan shook his head. “That is why my side will not wait for the outcome of that battle. If we lose there, we have lost our only reasonable hope of permanently regaining control in either Java, or in space. My side must use its present advantage, meaning that if you do not negotiate now, they will destroy your ground forces—and much of Indonesia—while they still may.”
First Voice rose up. “Hu’urs Khraam, Riordan’s analysis is without error. But whereas he intends it to scare you into negotiation, I assert it should fix our resolve to strike the humans first.”
“First Voice of the First Family, we agreed not to use nuclear weapons against—”
“You will hear me. We still have an undamaged half-fleet in orbit. The humans cannot strike at those ships yet, so we may still win the war swiftly and decisively by destroying five of their greatest cities and bloc capitols with a deluge of kinetic kill devices. Let us say New York, Beijing, Tokyo, Berlin, Moscow. The moment after this is achieved, we send the ultimatum we should have sent when we first arrived: capitulate or die by the billions. The humans will not resist further. Their cities would be ash by the time their fleet arrives, should it be so fortunate as to win the day against your ships.”
Graagkhruud’s enthusiasm was palpable. “This is plain truth and the path to victory. And if the humans threaten to overwhelm us here while this is transpiring, it is of no consequence.”
“Indeed? You so gladly accept death?”
“Spoken like the grubber you are. Of course I do not welcome death. I merely say we must fight as warriors should: on the attack, giving no quarter, using all weapons against any opponents.”
“You propose to slaughter them all, including noncombatants and innocents?”
“It would be a slaughter if there were any noncombatants or innocents, if we struck humans down where they crouched in supplication. But the humans do not know this posture nor this behavior. They are all combatants. Consequently, they have dug the den in which they must live. They must all be slain until they all capitulate. And if we move forth from our compounds using incendiary weapons, leveling those areas of the cities we do not control, even local resistance will quickly come to an end.” He turned toward Caine, tongue flicking. “Do you deny it, liar?”
Riordan looked up when the Hkh’Rkh addressed him as “liar.” The difference in their size and mass made the human’s response either comical or dangerously insane. “Do you challenge me, First Fist?”
Graagkhruud’s tongue whipped out and about like a stabbed snake. He huffed once in his chest. “You flatter yourself, s’fet. You are not a being and so, have no honor, despite the way Yaargraukh addresses you and despite First Voice’s generous toleration of that. I would smear my name and my family to even acknowledge you.”
Caine smiled and for some reason, Darzhee Kut found that expression more fearful than anything he had ever seen on the long face of any Hkh’Rkh. “How fortunate for you that I may not be Challenged, or make Challenge, Graagkhruud.”
The Hkh’Rkh leapt toward him, claws up.
Hu’urs Khraam shrilled. “Predator, you would slay an ambassador? Here, in our presence, without consulting us?” First Voice restrained First Fist as Hu’urs Khraam settled down in his couch again, but continued in the same tone. “This impetuosity, this dance your species does with death, it is not just in your actions of the moment. It is also in these plans you speak of now.”
First Voice reared up. “These ‘impetuous’ plans will win this war.”
“No. They will win this battle—but in doing so, will most certainly lose the war. For when the Custodians learn what you would have us do here, they will ban our races from space. Do not mistake me, First Voice. I harbor no tender feelings for the humans. You may find, when you know us better, that we have stronger and longer reasons to loathe humans than you ever will.” Only Darzhee Kut saw Caine’s eyes become suddenly sharp when Hu’urs Khraam uttered the word “longer.” “But,” continued the First Delegate, “that does not change the fact that so far as we know, we must still answer to the Custodians.”
“Besides,” Darzhee hastily interjected, “whose fault is it that we teeter on this unseen brink? The humans’? Did they invade our systems?”
“Not yet,” amended Graagkhruud.
“And perhaps they never would have. Now, we will never know. But if they had, would they have attacked our homeworld?” Darzhee Kut turned to face his leader. “You are right to fear the Dornaani, Esteemed Hu’urs Khraam, but also fear what this deed would make us. Worse than the humans. And remember this—and you answer too, First Voice. If we do this, and if we then leave any of the humans alive, anywhere, what do you think they will do?”
Yaargraukh reared back. “They would hunt our races down until we are no more. They will not forgive, they will not forget, they will not stop. Darzhee Kut is right: if we take this step, it is not the last leap we take into the darkness. It is but the first plunge into a campaign of unremitting genocide—and if we do not finish the atrocity we begin, they will surely finish us.”