M’krah Manor
Only after the brothers filled their plates with their share of dinner did the Pride females partake in the meal. As with every night, Nrsah commented that it was better than trench rat. Kruq’nov could hardly argue. Life as a Pride king was certainly the life. He and his brother relaxed at the head of the dining hall, a plate of roast meats in one hand and a goblet of locally brew palm wine. Sukhar Pa’myra was one of the finer products of Ghorah Khar, and the only alcohol the Pride would serve. When Kruq’nov broached the subject of rum—the only proper use found for any species of grass in his opinion—Gherelith glared at him fiercely enough that the veteran dropped the subject. There was no changing these females.
“To the good life,” Nrsah said, raising his goblet to his elder brother.
Kruq’nov could hardly argue with the toast either. “The good life.” The goblets struck like the ringing of bells. Silver cups were also absent from the trenches. Drinking implements of any kind were uncommon. Kruq’nov recalled times he lapped water from small pools on the bunker walls. And the fleas—even after more than Kahrik out of the trenches, he still itched. A codex spoke of honoring the heroic dead for their deeds are worthy of remembrance, but Kruq’nov saw nothing heroic about falling in no-man’s land, cut down by a stream of tungsten slugs. There will never be songs or poems praising the glory of trench warfare.
He raised his goblet again. “To comrades who never lived to see today.” That was a statement to which Nrsah could drink. Only those who fought in the squalor and toxicity understood the plight of Repleetah. Since they left the planet, neither heard a single mention of it in Kilrathi news. The Imperial spin machines clearly did not like losses. At least the place was as big a loss to the Apes.
“I’ve heard word from Mercher this morning,” Shelcha said in a hushed voice. Kruq’nov could see the resemblance between her and her sister Keitcha. Both were born in the same litter. Most Kilrathi were born in pairs, Kruq’nov being the exemption at the table. Many outside of the Pride said the sisters were identical, but he knew better than any that was not true.
“Do not keep the word to yourself,” Ghenkril commanded. She was sister to the Matriarch and mother of Shelcha, Keitcha and many others over the Shrik.
The other females listened intently to their sister. Nrsah paid little attention; after all such gossip was female dominion. Kruq’nov had both age and wisdom over his brother, and kept an ear open. “The Imperial Pride has landed more soldiers in the city,” Shelcha’s words instantly peaked Kruq’nov’s attention.
“How many?” he asked, alerted by any Imperial presence. Ghorah Khar was a frontier world, closer to the Apes than any of the Eight Prides. Any increase in soldiers was cause for alarm. Was the war coming here, or did the Kilrah Pride just want to take over this world too?
Most of the Pride females shot Kruq’nov disapproving looks. At dinner, Kings were supposed to be seen, not heard. Of course, they all knew this King was an unusual sort of male. They puzzled over his sparing of their male cubs, though they were just as pleased not to see their children killed. Kruq’nov saw no reason to kill the cubs. After all, the Apes were already doing a superb job at wiping out future generations and there was no way Kruq’nov would aid their cause.
“At least eighty,” Shelcha tried to recall the details. “Just infantry. Kilrah officials claim they are in Mercher to protect it.”
Of course they were, Kruq’nov knew better than to believe anything a Kilrah said. Even though Mercher was on the far side of the continent, the arrival of soldiers worried the veteran. “Any idea of the truth?”
Gherelith hissed at his cynicism. Not all Kilrathi were so hostile towards authority, though the Matriarch was wise enough not to take authority’s word as gospel. “They are telling most of the truth this time,” the Matriarch explained. Kruq’nov never liked her explanations; it was too much like a scholar talking down to a dim pupil. “They want the mines safe.”
“That’s right,” Shelcha agreed. “I also heard the Kilrah are conscripting more laborers for the mines.”
“Why?” Kruq’nov wondered why off-worlders would care about mines. If minerals were required for the war effort, all the Imperial Pride or the Eight needed to do was round up a couple of asteroids and dismantle them. Nobody mines planets unless it is for local use. Or the mineral is exceedingly rare and precious.
This time Gherelith did not speak down to the King. “That is a good question. The Kilrah started the mines near Mercher two Shrik ago, and have been expanding them ever since. They are keeping it a secret, so much so that we aren’t even supposed to know about it.” The M’krah had friends among the Mercher as well as the Shrekhar, even if they have close ties to nobility. Of the three powerful Prides on Ghorah Khar, the Shrekhar were most dangerous. They had ambition to become the Ghorah Khar Pride, rulers of the whole planet.
“If you have spies, it would be a good idea to employ them,” Kruq’nov might not be commissioned, but many Kahrik as a non-commissioned officer locked his mind into a war setting. If war was coming, he needed information.
“Kruq’nov, we’re not an army,” Keitcha reached out and rested a hand upon his forearm. She sat at the end of the table close to the Kings, across from the Matriarch. Nominally, the spot was reserved for an elder female, like Keitcha’s mother. However, since she proved most effective in reigning in the male, the rest of the Pride thought it wise she always is near him at social gatherings. If for no other reason than to muzzle him.
“You don’t need to be one,” he told her. “I just want to know what the Kilrah are up to. Just them increasing their presence on Ghorah Khar will be trouble for us all. Just wait and see.”
Alleys of M’krah
Kruq’nov stepped over the body of a slave—which species he could not tell. By the coloration he would guess Varni. It was odd to find any of their kind in this sector. Just how many jumps was it to their homeworld? Kruq’nov had no idea nor did he care. The dead amphibian obviously displeased someone. Its throat was missing, as were other pieces of its flesh. Small scavengers fled at the sight of an approaching Kilrathi. Kruq’nov paid them as little attention as possible. At least they were not rats. For some reason or another those vermin appeared on every world the Apes colonized.
The alley was dark and growing dimmer as the sun set. His business must be concluded soon or he will be missed at home. Was there any Pride female he must service before retiring for the night? No, not this night. He certainly would not take the chance then. Gherelith insisted what happened between the three large Prides of Ghorah Khar was female business. Kruq’nov disagreed strongly with her sentiment. As King, his duties included defending the Pride. When the Kilrah Pride moves into any new world their first target are often the largest Prides. They either subjugate them as vassals or one scion or another tries to take it over. In either case, the veteran decided that fell into his prerogative.
Over the past few days Kruq’nov reached out to various contacts he made as Pride King. Most of them were barkeeps or store owners. To the elite of the Empire, such people were viewed as beneath the notice of proper intelligence gathering. Perhaps that was why the Empire had yet to defeat the Apes after nearly eight Shrik of warring. These lowly people were in the proper place to gather information. Warriors spoke amongst each other while ignoring the shop owner, and they spoke way too much when full of alcohol and in earshot of a barkeep.
Unfortunately neither source could offer Kruq’nov useful information. They knew about mines near Mercher and that soldiers protected them. Beyond that—it was the tightest secret on the planet. Kruq’nov switched to less conventional sources of information. Waiting for him in the shadows of the alley was Khrath. Like Kruq’nov he was a deserter. Unlike Kruq’nov, Khrath was a former officer and commissar. What a Ki’ra managed to do to end up a lowly detective was beyond Kruq’nov. Perhaps he as best not knowing. Normally he would want nothing to do with any scion of the Eight, but the Ki’ra were quite vocal about their opinions of the war; mainly the total lack of progress with the Kilrah Pride in charge.
Kruq’nov did not trust the cloaked ex-commissar, but he knew Khrath would not betray him. After all the Army would be far more interested in punishing a deserter of his rank than a common Second Claw. Little was visible beneath his hood. Kruq’nov saw Khrath’s snout sticking from the darkness of the hood. His teeth were sharp and whiter than any soldier’s teeth had business being. Clearly he never ate rat.
“What have you found out?” Kruq’nov asked without preamble.
Khrath eyed him from the shadows of his hood. “No disguise? Are you not worried about being spotted?”
Kruq’nov bared his teeth in indignation. “This is my city, I go where I please.” And he did. Though he was careful about his current venture he did not bother looking over his shoulder. No females were out and the males had too much respect for Kruq’nov to talk behind his back. Or at least they had sense enough to pretend they never saw him.
“If I had control of the M’krah Pride I wouldn’t be outside of their walls at night,” he said with a leer.
Kruq’nov hissed at the implied challenge. “You have not answered my question.”
“Could you be more specific? I have learned much in my voyage to Mercher,” as with any Ki’ra, Khrath would not get straight to the point. Was there some genetic defect that prevented it? His arm was stretched and his hand open.
To expedite the process, Kruq’nov drew forth a pouch of gold coins and dropped them in Khrath’s outstretched hand. Much commerce off-world took place electronically, and the system proved far more convenient than carrying coins or products to barter. However, any transaction using computers could be traced; coins were a little more difficult and they spent just as easy on this colonial world.
“The mines,” Kruq’nov insisted. “What are in them?”
“Miners, equipment, guards,” Khrath rattled off a list of what was in the mines. The absence of slaves spoke volumes on how serious the Kilrah took security. “As for what comes out: crystals.”
“That’s it? Just crystals?” The sudden urge to slash this Ki’ra’s throat burned within Kruq’nov. He fought back his rage. No, it would do him little good to kill such a useful source of information, even if he enjoys being difficult.
Khrath’s expression darkened. “That’s all I could discover with betraying my presence and learning that much was difficult. These crystals are rare and extremely expensive to synthetically produce. It would appear Ghorah Khar is one of the few places in the known universe where they can be mined in sufficient quantities.”
Kruq’nov shook his head in bemusement. “They came all this way for jewelry?”
Khrath laughed. “The Kilrah Pride might be vain that way but I doubt that it mine’s purpose. With that much security it has to be for the war effort. Beyond that—ask a physicist or chemist. Science is not my trade.”
Kruq’nov stepped back from Khrath. He might not look over his shoulder coming into the alley but he was not about to turn his back on the Ki’ra. Industrial gems—weapons’ quality crystals. What was their purpose? Would they make grasers more powerful? Shields stronger? No matter their purpose the fact that the mines were vital to the war effort was bad news indeed. Sooner or later the Apes would notice them and come. Even if they did not, the Kilrah Pride would continue their encroachment on his new world. Was it really too much to ask for a male to settle down with a nice Pride away from galactic politics? Apparently so--
M’krah Manor
“This is an outrage!” Kruq’nov roared as he paced about the common room. He felt the pent up energy beneath his muscles. He wanted to fight, to rip his enemy to pieces. For one of the few times since taking over the M’krah Pride he wished one of their Ape slaves would enter. At least he could bite them.
“And what do you propose we do about it?” Gherelith watched the King trace and retrace his steps. She knew what he wanted to do about it. He wanted to fight. That would accomplish little. Not even a veteran of Repleetah could ward of an Imperial legion.
Kruq’nov could say nothing. What could they do about it? This time the Kilrah Pride brought down an entire octave of soldiers to garrison Mercher and the mines. More soldiers would follow, Kruq’nov was certain. The Kilrah have done more than deliver soldiers; they also have extensive fortifications around Mercher, eights of surface-to-space batteries and were expanding the space port to accommodate larger ships. All those soldiers meant a sharp curtailing of the settlers’ liberties. Already internal passports were being issued in Mercher and checkpoints erected to divide the city.
The other elder Pride females waited for Kruq’nov to speak. When he remained silent they looked at each other in concern. “Please don’t tell you plan to take matters into your own hands,” Ghenkril, sister of the Matriarch, pleaded.
Kruq’nov stopped his march and hissed at her. Before he could snap a response, the matriarch spoke. “I tolerate your spy network but I will not stand for any violence.” When Kruq’nov snapped his gaze towards her, Gherelith smiled. “I wouldn’t be a very good Matriarch if I didn’t know what transpired in my own city.”
Kruq’nov could not honestly say he was surprised. Anyone who claimed the title of Matriarch and held it was no fool. “They won’t stop with Mercher. Mark my words, if left unchallenged the Kilrah will take the whole planet. And don’t preach to me about overstepping my bounds. Defending this Pride is my duty, and I will fulfill it.”
“He’s right, my sister,” Ghenkril said with a sigh. Defending the Pride was one of the two duties a King must perform.
Gherelith flashed her teeth in annoyance. “I know that, but there is a difference between defense and offense.”
“There is also the matter of the Terrans,” Keitcha spoke for the first time since the elders gathered. She was far from old, but like her twin Shelcha, she was mature enough to be counted amongst the elders. Most of the Pride females were younger than her, and all of them born on Ghorah Khar. “With the Kilrah expanding their presence sooner or later the Terrans will come see what they are up to. I don’t think they’ll bother differentiating between us and the Kilrah.”
Gherelith eyed Keitcha with suspicion. She had grown close to Kruq’nov and the Matriarch took her niece’s defense of the King with a pinch of salt. She always hoped her Pride would avoid the war. That was why she and her sister moved to this planet. It was the frontier, with nothing of value save wide open spaces and plentiful game. While the system had many jump points, the Terrans were in the habit of bypassing Prides that offered no resistance. The M’krah Pride was such a Pride. What would Gherelith do if they did come? She had no love of the Empire but that did not mean she wanted to seek refuge among a bunch of apes.
“Again, what can we do about it?” Gherelith sought her own answer even as she asked. Even if she could ally her Pride with the other two large ones on the planet, what could they do against the Imperial Pride, a Pride that numbered in the millions? She wondered what the Mercher Pride was doing right now. Could they do anything with the Kilrah watching them so close? Fehkra nar Mercher was a friend of Gherelith, one she had no heard from in recent days. And what was the Shrekhar Pride up to? Their Kings were scions of nobility; did they plan on gaining from an increased Imperial presence?
“What indeed,” Kruq’nov knew there was little he could do, and that was the most infuriating aspect of all. Right now he would hold his peace, and bide his time. Sooner or later an answer will appear.
Kruq’nov clutched at the guard rails and glared out over at the city. He fumed over his seclusion from talks between his Pride and representatives of the Mercher Pride. The Matriarch, in her infinite wisdom, decided that any male presence would only serve to inflame discussions. Kruq’nov granted that Gherelith was wise in many subjects—save keeping Apes in the house—but she also defended her prerogative as fiercely as he. How was he expected to defend the Pride if he did not know the situation? The Mercher Pride was under the ever-vigilant gaze of the Kilrah Pride.
The phrase brought a smile to Kruq’nov’ face. Ever-vigilant indeed. If they knew everything, how come they could not defeat an enemy their propaganda claims is nothing more than a prey beast? It could be worse. Instead of the Imperial Pride, the Emperor could have handed operations over to the Ki’ra Pride. They ran the Commission as if it was their own private fief, and their commissars were almost as underhanded as the Apes. If they were running Mercher then he would have absolutely forbade them entry in M’krah. They were so good at brain washing that their agents could be anywhere and nobody would know the agent included. Scions of that Pride could never be trusted, not even the ones he bought.
“Enjoying the view?” Nrsah walked up alongside his brother and stared out at the city. If anyone had told Nrsah that he would be master of a city at his young age he would have laughed him off the planet.
“Enjoy isn’t the right word,” Kruq’nov growled.
Nrsah hissed in disagreement. He thought the view was rather pleasant. The city might be large for Ghorah Khar, but it was small by the standards of his own birth planet. Actually, they were small by the standards of most planets in the Empire. Few structures rose more than two stories, and he was standing on the balcony of one of them. “Forced to endure?”
Kruq’nov grumbled a few words beneath his breath. “The Pride’s future is being discussed behind closed doors and I am out here. Yes, forced to endure is a good choice of words.”
“Let the females worry about it; that’s their responsibility after all,” Nrsah took far less interest in the planet’s politics as his older brother.
Kruq’nov stared at Nrsah wryly. “Our responsibility includes more than siring the next generation.”
“It does?” Nrsah roared in laughter. “Relax, brother. When the time comes to fight, I will be ready. That doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy my other duties.”
Kruq’nov joined in his laughter. “Brother, what you do goes beyond the call of duty. If you took to war with as much vigor, the Emperor would have to pin a medal on you.” Kruq’nov could hardly fault Nrsah’s enthusiasm; a male of his age as a Pride King was virtually unheard of.
Their laughter came to a sudden halt at the presence of a slave. Kruq’nov’s eyes narrowed and his teeth flashed. The diminutive Ape shook as she approached the Kings. “Forgive me, great lord, but the honored Matriarch sends summons.” Her voice was weak and heavily accented, but understandable. The Matriarch should have sent Terran parrots as messenger; at least they spoke Kilrathi languages clearer.
Kruq’nov snarled at the slave, he fled in terror as soon as the message was received. He would swear the Matriarch sent Terran slaves to him just to remind him of who was really in charge of the Pride. “Keep watch, Brother.”
“Not even a glow worm will escape by attention,” Nrsah said as Kruq’nov returned to the indoors.
The older Pride females gathered in the common room along with two, unfamiliar females. They sounded, smelt and even felt wrong, but Kruq’nov did not need those senses to tell him they did not belong. The females of the M’krah Pride all were born with fair hair of the lightest gold. The other two were the same brown that dominated Kilrathi genes. One of the two Mercher females eyed Kruq’nov disapprovingly. “Honored Matriarch, why is this male here?”
Before the Matriarch could answer, Kruq’nov gave his own explanation. “Because defending this Pride is my duty and I will defend it from all threats.”
The two Mercher females hissed at Kruq’nov, as did the Matriarch. “Kruq’nov, please speak only when spoken to,” Gherelith chastised him before answering the Mercher. “Sankra, the Kilrah presence on our world is a threat to both of our Prides, and our King speaks truly. If it comes to open war between our Prides and the Shrekhar Pride, then he will fulfill his duty.” She expected he might even use a war as a chance to grab more power. She was naturally suspicious of any male that took too much interest in politics.
Sankra reached to the table a picked up her cup of jirak. Sipping the tea, she said “If isn’t the right word.”
Kruq’nov’s ears shot up in alarm. Before he could speak out of turn, the Matriarch explained. “Sankra comes from Mercher with news. The Kilrah Pride has turned over governorship of Ghorah Khar to the Shrekhar Pride. They rule as viceroys with the Kilrah’s blessing.”
“And the soldiers?” Kruq’nov asked.
Gherelith gestured for Sankra to explain. She eyed Kruq’nov, uncomfortable around the strange male. Scaring on his face spoke of his prowess and reliance, which did little to settle her. A male like him was the sort that could challenge her own Kings and take control of the Mercher Pride. “They remain, though my understanding is their orders are to defend the mines and other Imperial installations. The Shrekhar are given free reign with everything else. They are trying to raise their own militia and already their spies are infiltrating cities across the planet.”
Kruq’nov made a mental note about sending his own spy to investigate. “What of their militia?”
Sankra paused. “Military matters are not my expertise. Our own Kings tell us they are amateurs.”
Kruq’nov made another note to start raising his own army. “What of their weapons?”
“Rifles,” the Mercher said.
Kruq’nov scowled at her unhelpful words. “Kruq’nov, none of us know anything of the art and science of war. That’s why I summoned you,” Gherelith checked his advance. “With the Shrekhar raising an army I am doubtful of any peaceful solution between our Prides. When war comes to M’krah, we need to be ready.”
Only after the brothers filled their plates with their share of dinner did the Pride females partake in the meal. As with every night, Nrsah commented that it was better than trench rat. Kruq’nov could hardly argue. Life as a Pride king was certainly the life. He and his brother relaxed at the head of the dining hall, a plate of roast meats in one hand and a goblet of locally brew palm wine. Sukhar Pa’myra was one of the finer products of Ghorah Khar, and the only alcohol the Pride would serve. When Kruq’nov broached the subject of rum—the only proper use found for any species of grass in his opinion—Gherelith glared at him fiercely enough that the veteran dropped the subject. There was no changing these females.
“To the good life,” Nrsah said, raising his goblet to his elder brother.
Kruq’nov could hardly argue with the toast either. “The good life.” The goblets struck like the ringing of bells. Silver cups were also absent from the trenches. Drinking implements of any kind were uncommon. Kruq’nov recalled times he lapped water from small pools on the bunker walls. And the fleas—even after more than Kahrik out of the trenches, he still itched. A codex spoke of honoring the heroic dead for their deeds are worthy of remembrance, but Kruq’nov saw nothing heroic about falling in no-man’s land, cut down by a stream of tungsten slugs. There will never be songs or poems praising the glory of trench warfare.
He raised his goblet again. “To comrades who never lived to see today.” That was a statement to which Nrsah could drink. Only those who fought in the squalor and toxicity understood the plight of Repleetah. Since they left the planet, neither heard a single mention of it in Kilrathi news. The Imperial spin machines clearly did not like losses. At least the place was as big a loss to the Apes.
“I’ve heard word from Mercher this morning,” Shelcha said in a hushed voice. Kruq’nov could see the resemblance between her and her sister Keitcha. Both were born in the same litter. Most Kilrathi were born in pairs, Kruq’nov being the exemption at the table. Many outside of the Pride said the sisters were identical, but he knew better than any that was not true.
“Do not keep the word to yourself,” Ghenkril commanded. She was sister to the Matriarch and mother of Shelcha, Keitcha and many others over the Shrik.
The other females listened intently to their sister. Nrsah paid little attention; after all such gossip was female dominion. Kruq’nov had both age and wisdom over his brother, and kept an ear open. “The Imperial Pride has landed more soldiers in the city,” Shelcha’s words instantly peaked Kruq’nov’s attention.
“How many?” he asked, alerted by any Imperial presence. Ghorah Khar was a frontier world, closer to the Apes than any of the Eight Prides. Any increase in soldiers was cause for alarm. Was the war coming here, or did the Kilrah Pride just want to take over this world too?
Most of the Pride females shot Kruq’nov disapproving looks. At dinner, Kings were supposed to be seen, not heard. Of course, they all knew this King was an unusual sort of male. They puzzled over his sparing of their male cubs, though they were just as pleased not to see their children killed. Kruq’nov saw no reason to kill the cubs. After all, the Apes were already doing a superb job at wiping out future generations and there was no way Kruq’nov would aid their cause.
“At least eighty,” Shelcha tried to recall the details. “Just infantry. Kilrah officials claim they are in Mercher to protect it.”
Of course they were, Kruq’nov knew better than to believe anything a Kilrah said. Even though Mercher was on the far side of the continent, the arrival of soldiers worried the veteran. “Any idea of the truth?”
Gherelith hissed at his cynicism. Not all Kilrathi were so hostile towards authority, though the Matriarch was wise enough not to take authority’s word as gospel. “They are telling most of the truth this time,” the Matriarch explained. Kruq’nov never liked her explanations; it was too much like a scholar talking down to a dim pupil. “They want the mines safe.”
“That’s right,” Shelcha agreed. “I also heard the Kilrah are conscripting more laborers for the mines.”
“Why?” Kruq’nov wondered why off-worlders would care about mines. If minerals were required for the war effort, all the Imperial Pride or the Eight needed to do was round up a couple of asteroids and dismantle them. Nobody mines planets unless it is for local use. Or the mineral is exceedingly rare and precious.
This time Gherelith did not speak down to the King. “That is a good question. The Kilrah started the mines near Mercher two Shrik ago, and have been expanding them ever since. They are keeping it a secret, so much so that we aren’t even supposed to know about it.” The M’krah had friends among the Mercher as well as the Shrekhar, even if they have close ties to nobility. Of the three powerful Prides on Ghorah Khar, the Shrekhar were most dangerous. They had ambition to become the Ghorah Khar Pride, rulers of the whole planet.
“If you have spies, it would be a good idea to employ them,” Kruq’nov might not be commissioned, but many Kahrik as a non-commissioned officer locked his mind into a war setting. If war was coming, he needed information.
“Kruq’nov, we’re not an army,” Keitcha reached out and rested a hand upon his forearm. She sat at the end of the table close to the Kings, across from the Matriarch. Nominally, the spot was reserved for an elder female, like Keitcha’s mother. However, since she proved most effective in reigning in the male, the rest of the Pride thought it wise she always is near him at social gatherings. If for no other reason than to muzzle him.
“You don’t need to be one,” he told her. “I just want to know what the Kilrah are up to. Just them increasing their presence on Ghorah Khar will be trouble for us all. Just wait and see.”
Alleys of M’krah
Kruq’nov stepped over the body of a slave—which species he could not tell. By the coloration he would guess Varni. It was odd to find any of their kind in this sector. Just how many jumps was it to their homeworld? Kruq’nov had no idea nor did he care. The dead amphibian obviously displeased someone. Its throat was missing, as were other pieces of its flesh. Small scavengers fled at the sight of an approaching Kilrathi. Kruq’nov paid them as little attention as possible. At least they were not rats. For some reason or another those vermin appeared on every world the Apes colonized.
The alley was dark and growing dimmer as the sun set. His business must be concluded soon or he will be missed at home. Was there any Pride female he must service before retiring for the night? No, not this night. He certainly would not take the chance then. Gherelith insisted what happened between the three large Prides of Ghorah Khar was female business. Kruq’nov disagreed strongly with her sentiment. As King, his duties included defending the Pride. When the Kilrah Pride moves into any new world their first target are often the largest Prides. They either subjugate them as vassals or one scion or another tries to take it over. In either case, the veteran decided that fell into his prerogative.
Over the past few days Kruq’nov reached out to various contacts he made as Pride King. Most of them were barkeeps or store owners. To the elite of the Empire, such people were viewed as beneath the notice of proper intelligence gathering. Perhaps that was why the Empire had yet to defeat the Apes after nearly eight Shrik of warring. These lowly people were in the proper place to gather information. Warriors spoke amongst each other while ignoring the shop owner, and they spoke way too much when full of alcohol and in earshot of a barkeep.
Unfortunately neither source could offer Kruq’nov useful information. They knew about mines near Mercher and that soldiers protected them. Beyond that—it was the tightest secret on the planet. Kruq’nov switched to less conventional sources of information. Waiting for him in the shadows of the alley was Khrath. Like Kruq’nov he was a deserter. Unlike Kruq’nov, Khrath was a former officer and commissar. What a Ki’ra managed to do to end up a lowly detective was beyond Kruq’nov. Perhaps he as best not knowing. Normally he would want nothing to do with any scion of the Eight, but the Ki’ra were quite vocal about their opinions of the war; mainly the total lack of progress with the Kilrah Pride in charge.
Kruq’nov did not trust the cloaked ex-commissar, but he knew Khrath would not betray him. After all the Army would be far more interested in punishing a deserter of his rank than a common Second Claw. Little was visible beneath his hood. Kruq’nov saw Khrath’s snout sticking from the darkness of the hood. His teeth were sharp and whiter than any soldier’s teeth had business being. Clearly he never ate rat.
“What have you found out?” Kruq’nov asked without preamble.
Khrath eyed him from the shadows of his hood. “No disguise? Are you not worried about being spotted?”
Kruq’nov bared his teeth in indignation. “This is my city, I go where I please.” And he did. Though he was careful about his current venture he did not bother looking over his shoulder. No females were out and the males had too much respect for Kruq’nov to talk behind his back. Or at least they had sense enough to pretend they never saw him.
“If I had control of the M’krah Pride I wouldn’t be outside of their walls at night,” he said with a leer.
Kruq’nov hissed at the implied challenge. “You have not answered my question.”
“Could you be more specific? I have learned much in my voyage to Mercher,” as with any Ki’ra, Khrath would not get straight to the point. Was there some genetic defect that prevented it? His arm was stretched and his hand open.
To expedite the process, Kruq’nov drew forth a pouch of gold coins and dropped them in Khrath’s outstretched hand. Much commerce off-world took place electronically, and the system proved far more convenient than carrying coins or products to barter. However, any transaction using computers could be traced; coins were a little more difficult and they spent just as easy on this colonial world.
“The mines,” Kruq’nov insisted. “What are in them?”
“Miners, equipment, guards,” Khrath rattled off a list of what was in the mines. The absence of slaves spoke volumes on how serious the Kilrah took security. “As for what comes out: crystals.”
“That’s it? Just crystals?” The sudden urge to slash this Ki’ra’s throat burned within Kruq’nov. He fought back his rage. No, it would do him little good to kill such a useful source of information, even if he enjoys being difficult.
Khrath’s expression darkened. “That’s all I could discover with betraying my presence and learning that much was difficult. These crystals are rare and extremely expensive to synthetically produce. It would appear Ghorah Khar is one of the few places in the known universe where they can be mined in sufficient quantities.”
Kruq’nov shook his head in bemusement. “They came all this way for jewelry?”
Khrath laughed. “The Kilrah Pride might be vain that way but I doubt that it mine’s purpose. With that much security it has to be for the war effort. Beyond that—ask a physicist or chemist. Science is not my trade.”
Kruq’nov stepped back from Khrath. He might not look over his shoulder coming into the alley but he was not about to turn his back on the Ki’ra. Industrial gems—weapons’ quality crystals. What was their purpose? Would they make grasers more powerful? Shields stronger? No matter their purpose the fact that the mines were vital to the war effort was bad news indeed. Sooner or later the Apes would notice them and come. Even if they did not, the Kilrah Pride would continue their encroachment on his new world. Was it really too much to ask for a male to settle down with a nice Pride away from galactic politics? Apparently so--
M’krah Manor
“This is an outrage!” Kruq’nov roared as he paced about the common room. He felt the pent up energy beneath his muscles. He wanted to fight, to rip his enemy to pieces. For one of the few times since taking over the M’krah Pride he wished one of their Ape slaves would enter. At least he could bite them.
“And what do you propose we do about it?” Gherelith watched the King trace and retrace his steps. She knew what he wanted to do about it. He wanted to fight. That would accomplish little. Not even a veteran of Repleetah could ward of an Imperial legion.
Kruq’nov could say nothing. What could they do about it? This time the Kilrah Pride brought down an entire octave of soldiers to garrison Mercher and the mines. More soldiers would follow, Kruq’nov was certain. The Kilrah have done more than deliver soldiers; they also have extensive fortifications around Mercher, eights of surface-to-space batteries and were expanding the space port to accommodate larger ships. All those soldiers meant a sharp curtailing of the settlers’ liberties. Already internal passports were being issued in Mercher and checkpoints erected to divide the city.
The other elder Pride females waited for Kruq’nov to speak. When he remained silent they looked at each other in concern. “Please don’t tell you plan to take matters into your own hands,” Ghenkril, sister of the Matriarch, pleaded.
Kruq’nov stopped his march and hissed at her. Before he could snap a response, the matriarch spoke. “I tolerate your spy network but I will not stand for any violence.” When Kruq’nov snapped his gaze towards her, Gherelith smiled. “I wouldn’t be a very good Matriarch if I didn’t know what transpired in my own city.”
Kruq’nov could not honestly say he was surprised. Anyone who claimed the title of Matriarch and held it was no fool. “They won’t stop with Mercher. Mark my words, if left unchallenged the Kilrah will take the whole planet. And don’t preach to me about overstepping my bounds. Defending this Pride is my duty, and I will fulfill it.”
“He’s right, my sister,” Ghenkril said with a sigh. Defending the Pride was one of the two duties a King must perform.
Gherelith flashed her teeth in annoyance. “I know that, but there is a difference between defense and offense.”
“There is also the matter of the Terrans,” Keitcha spoke for the first time since the elders gathered. She was far from old, but like her twin Shelcha, she was mature enough to be counted amongst the elders. Most of the Pride females were younger than her, and all of them born on Ghorah Khar. “With the Kilrah expanding their presence sooner or later the Terrans will come see what they are up to. I don’t think they’ll bother differentiating between us and the Kilrah.”
Gherelith eyed Keitcha with suspicion. She had grown close to Kruq’nov and the Matriarch took her niece’s defense of the King with a pinch of salt. She always hoped her Pride would avoid the war. That was why she and her sister moved to this planet. It was the frontier, with nothing of value save wide open spaces and plentiful game. While the system had many jump points, the Terrans were in the habit of bypassing Prides that offered no resistance. The M’krah Pride was such a Pride. What would Gherelith do if they did come? She had no love of the Empire but that did not mean she wanted to seek refuge among a bunch of apes.
“Again, what can we do about it?” Gherelith sought her own answer even as she asked. Even if she could ally her Pride with the other two large ones on the planet, what could they do against the Imperial Pride, a Pride that numbered in the millions? She wondered what the Mercher Pride was doing right now. Could they do anything with the Kilrah watching them so close? Fehkra nar Mercher was a friend of Gherelith, one she had no heard from in recent days. And what was the Shrekhar Pride up to? Their Kings were scions of nobility; did they plan on gaining from an increased Imperial presence?
“What indeed,” Kruq’nov knew there was little he could do, and that was the most infuriating aspect of all. Right now he would hold his peace, and bide his time. Sooner or later an answer will appear.
Kruq’nov clutched at the guard rails and glared out over at the city. He fumed over his seclusion from talks between his Pride and representatives of the Mercher Pride. The Matriarch, in her infinite wisdom, decided that any male presence would only serve to inflame discussions. Kruq’nov granted that Gherelith was wise in many subjects—save keeping Apes in the house—but she also defended her prerogative as fiercely as he. How was he expected to defend the Pride if he did not know the situation? The Mercher Pride was under the ever-vigilant gaze of the Kilrah Pride.
The phrase brought a smile to Kruq’nov’ face. Ever-vigilant indeed. If they knew everything, how come they could not defeat an enemy their propaganda claims is nothing more than a prey beast? It could be worse. Instead of the Imperial Pride, the Emperor could have handed operations over to the Ki’ra Pride. They ran the Commission as if it was their own private fief, and their commissars were almost as underhanded as the Apes. If they were running Mercher then he would have absolutely forbade them entry in M’krah. They were so good at brain washing that their agents could be anywhere and nobody would know the agent included. Scions of that Pride could never be trusted, not even the ones he bought.
“Enjoying the view?” Nrsah walked up alongside his brother and stared out at the city. If anyone had told Nrsah that he would be master of a city at his young age he would have laughed him off the planet.
“Enjoy isn’t the right word,” Kruq’nov growled.
Nrsah hissed in disagreement. He thought the view was rather pleasant. The city might be large for Ghorah Khar, but it was small by the standards of his own birth planet. Actually, they were small by the standards of most planets in the Empire. Few structures rose more than two stories, and he was standing on the balcony of one of them. “Forced to endure?”
Kruq’nov grumbled a few words beneath his breath. “The Pride’s future is being discussed behind closed doors and I am out here. Yes, forced to endure is a good choice of words.”
“Let the females worry about it; that’s their responsibility after all,” Nrsah took far less interest in the planet’s politics as his older brother.
Kruq’nov stared at Nrsah wryly. “Our responsibility includes more than siring the next generation.”
“It does?” Nrsah roared in laughter. “Relax, brother. When the time comes to fight, I will be ready. That doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy my other duties.”
Kruq’nov joined in his laughter. “Brother, what you do goes beyond the call of duty. If you took to war with as much vigor, the Emperor would have to pin a medal on you.” Kruq’nov could hardly fault Nrsah’s enthusiasm; a male of his age as a Pride King was virtually unheard of.
Their laughter came to a sudden halt at the presence of a slave. Kruq’nov’s eyes narrowed and his teeth flashed. The diminutive Ape shook as she approached the Kings. “Forgive me, great lord, but the honored Matriarch sends summons.” Her voice was weak and heavily accented, but understandable. The Matriarch should have sent Terran parrots as messenger; at least they spoke Kilrathi languages clearer.
Kruq’nov snarled at the slave, he fled in terror as soon as the message was received. He would swear the Matriarch sent Terran slaves to him just to remind him of who was really in charge of the Pride. “Keep watch, Brother.”
“Not even a glow worm will escape by attention,” Nrsah said as Kruq’nov returned to the indoors.
The older Pride females gathered in the common room along with two, unfamiliar females. They sounded, smelt and even felt wrong, but Kruq’nov did not need those senses to tell him they did not belong. The females of the M’krah Pride all were born with fair hair of the lightest gold. The other two were the same brown that dominated Kilrathi genes. One of the two Mercher females eyed Kruq’nov disapprovingly. “Honored Matriarch, why is this male here?”
Before the Matriarch could answer, Kruq’nov gave his own explanation. “Because defending this Pride is my duty and I will defend it from all threats.”
The two Mercher females hissed at Kruq’nov, as did the Matriarch. “Kruq’nov, please speak only when spoken to,” Gherelith chastised him before answering the Mercher. “Sankra, the Kilrah presence on our world is a threat to both of our Prides, and our King speaks truly. If it comes to open war between our Prides and the Shrekhar Pride, then he will fulfill his duty.” She expected he might even use a war as a chance to grab more power. She was naturally suspicious of any male that took too much interest in politics.
Sankra reached to the table a picked up her cup of jirak. Sipping the tea, she said “If isn’t the right word.”
Kruq’nov’s ears shot up in alarm. Before he could speak out of turn, the Matriarch explained. “Sankra comes from Mercher with news. The Kilrah Pride has turned over governorship of Ghorah Khar to the Shrekhar Pride. They rule as viceroys with the Kilrah’s blessing.”
“And the soldiers?” Kruq’nov asked.
Gherelith gestured for Sankra to explain. She eyed Kruq’nov, uncomfortable around the strange male. Scaring on his face spoke of his prowess and reliance, which did little to settle her. A male like him was the sort that could challenge her own Kings and take control of the Mercher Pride. “They remain, though my understanding is their orders are to defend the mines and other Imperial installations. The Shrekhar are given free reign with everything else. They are trying to raise their own militia and already their spies are infiltrating cities across the planet.”
Kruq’nov made a mental note about sending his own spy to investigate. “What of their militia?”
Sankra paused. “Military matters are not my expertise. Our own Kings tell us they are amateurs.”
Kruq’nov made another note to start raising his own army. “What of their weapons?”
“Rifles,” the Mercher said.
Kruq’nov scowled at her unhelpful words. “Kruq’nov, none of us know anything of the art and science of war. That’s why I summoned you,” Gherelith checked his advance. “With the Shrekhar raising an army I am doubtful of any peaceful solution between our Prides. When war comes to M’krah, we need to be ready.”