d off,"
he heard a reporter sneering.
     He  turned, knowing he  shouldn't, but  he simply  couldn't take it any
longer. He put a finger into the man's face.
     "What have you been doing the last couple of years?"
     The man looked at him defiantly.
     "Working for the holos."
     "Where?"
     "On Earth. United Broadcasting."
     "While you've been sitting on your fat butt and grinning at  the camera
I've watched hundreds  of thousands die. I've seen entire continents on fire
from a thousand warhead bombardment, I've watched carriers bursting silently
in space, a thousand men and  women spilling out, their blood boiling in the
vacuum. I've heard the screams of my comrades as their fighters burned,  and
they were trapped, unable to eject. I've lost more  friends than you'll ever
have,  you belly crawling excuse for  a worm. So don't you ever  dare say to
me, or anyone else, that we  want a war. We know what the hell the price  is
while all you know is how to stuff your face and bloat your pride."
     He turned and stalked off, hearing  more than one reporter  chuckle and
give a  word  of support,  but most of  them looked at him with  a  superior
disdain, as  if  he was an arrogant  ignorant child  who  had just thrown  a
tantrum.
     A  Fleet public relations officer slipped  in beside Jason, grabbed him
by the arm and hustled him along.
     "That wasn't very  smart, sir,"  she whispered in his ear, while at the
same  time  smiling  to the press,  and  quickly  moved him  back  down  the
corridor.
     "Go to hell. I'm here  as  an aide to Admiral Tolwyn, but I'm not going
to be insulted."
     "Then stick to your  job as  an aide, things are  bad enough as is with
the damned press without you making it worse," she hissed in his ear.
     Jason forced back an angry retort  while the  other  officer seemed  to
instantly shift gears, smiling, holding up  her hand to the press, repeating
that  they'd have a story  soon  enough and  finally hustled Jason through a
door.
     "Next time you need to find a bathroom, sir," the officer said quietly,
"for heavens sake, don't wander into the press area. Those bastards are like
sharks looking for blood."
     "Well, where the hell is the bathroom?"
     The officer shook her head.
     "No time. The  meetings about to start up again  and  it wouldn't  look
good for you, a mere captain, to come wandering in late."
     Jason sighed and the officer pointed him to an airlock door.
     He suddenly felt self conscious.
     "Do I look all right?"
     She smiled, reaching up to adjust the  Medal of Honor which hung from a
blue sash around his throat.
     "Fine,  sir,  and paused for an instant. "And by the way I'm behind you
one hundred per cent with what you said back there, sir."
     He  forced  a  smile  and went  through the  airlock  and back into the
conference room.
     For  a frontier orbital base the room  was  richly appointed, with dark
wood paneled walls, soft indirect lighting, and even a real oak table taking
up most of the center  of the room. The  chairs  around the conference table
were all high backed, heavily cushioned and covered in the dark navy blue of
the fleet. In front of each desk was a small ensign denoting the rank of the
military officers present, and most of them were three and four stars.
     The  short  recess was  nearly  over  and Jason  moved to  his position
sitting directly behind Admiral Tolwyn. He looked over at Hunter, who Tolwyn
had picked as his second aide for this meeting, and Ian winked.
     "Make it?"
     "No and I'm ready to burst," Jason groaned and Hunter smiled.
     Why Tolwyn had picked  the two of them  to serve as his  aides at  this
meeting was beyond Jason. He knew  the admiral's regular staff officers were
seething over  being cut out of this armistice meeting and  Jason could only
surmise  that in  part  it  was  an act  of friendship, to  let him in at an
historic moment,  but also  as a sort of window dressing  for Tolwyn to have
two of his most decorated and famous officers sitting directly behind him.
     He looked around  the  circular table and saw  that nearly everyone was
back from the short recess, aides  sitting erect behind  their superiors who
were talking softly to each  other, some  serious, others chuckling  over  a
shared  witticism. Most of the laughter came from  the civilian side  of the
room. A  door at  the  far  side  of the room  opened and everyone rose, the
military  personnel  coming  to  stiff attention  as  the  President of  the
Confederation, Harold ъodham, stepped into the room. Jason had first met him
at  the  Medal of  Honor presentation and was  surprised with  how  short he
really was, something the holo films never seemed to pick up on.
     "Be seated, please," ъodham said quietly.
     Jason could feel the electric tension rippling through the room.
     "I'm prepared to hear any last minute presentations, but I want it done
in a calm and logical fashion."
     Jason knew that it was futile. In any  other setting, without  a sea of
admiral, commandant and generals' stars around the table he might even  have
been tempted to speak up but Admiral Tolwyn relieved him of  that by  coming
to his feet.
     "Admiral Tolwyn," ъodham said nodding his head.
     Tolwyn  looked around  the room and then focused  his attention  on the
civilians sitting around ъodham.
     "You are  all well  aware that I am the most  junior officer sitting at
this table; perhaps for that reason it might be best for me, as a front line
officer, to review one more time our objections to this armistice which  you
seem so intent on formalizing."
     Jason could see ъodham bristle slightly.
     "What you are  agreeing to is  a freezing in place of all  forces until
such time as a peace commission can be established, agreeable to both sides,
who   will  then  negotiate  a  permanent  cease  fire  between  the  Terran
Confederation and the Kilrathi Empire.  At the same time you are agreeing to
a freezing of all construction  of military ships,  the refitting of vessels
currently in dry dock, and the enlistment of new personnel."
     ъodham gave a curt nod of reply.
     "I find it difficult at best to accept this."
     "You're  in  the military and  don't  you  forget  that  you  are under
civilian  control,  so you d better accept it," ъhonda Jamison,  the foreign
minister who had been the key negotiator for the armistice announced coldly.
ъodham extended his hand towards Jamison as if to calm her.
     "Go on, Admiral."
     "I am not a politician, I am a warrior,  following in the thousand year
tradition of my family who served in the  ancient navy,  army, and air force
of  Britain and  the space forces of the Confederation . My  family has seen
the best of those  moments, proud of the  memory of six Victoria  Crosses in
our  past.  Tolwyns  served  at  Waterloo,  on the Somme,  in the  Battle of
Britain, at Minsk and the  siege of London and shed  their blood  heavily in
this latest  war. We have  seen the best and we  have endured the worst, and
sir, I fear that this decision might  very well produce  the most disastrous
defeat in the history of the human race, and perhaps even spell its eventual
annihilation."
     Jamison sniffed and then shook her head angrily.
     "Admiral, we are not discussing genealogy or ancient history, a passion
I  find  many military men are fond of indulging in. We  are discussing real
politics, the here and now."
     "And so am  I,"  Tolwyn replied. "Eighteen  months ago I feared that at
best the  war would  simply drag on forever and more likely would eventually
lead to our defeat. And then, with  new tactical innovations and  the latest
improvements in technology we appear to have not only  reached a balance but
in fact, for the first  time in thirty years of fighting, appear  to have at
least gained an edge. We found two weak spots: their logistical support, and
their construction. We  found the ways to  hit at them,  to slip  past their
main battle fleet and we are hurting them. Our intelligence net has detected
that some ships are forced  to go into action with less than seventy percent
of  their  standard armaments.  We've  noticed  dozens  of small signs.  The
crucial, the absolutely crucial element in this is to  keep the  pressure on
them, not to let it up."
     Jason could see the clear division in the room, the military personnel,
especially  the  front  line  fleet commanders, nodding  in  agreement,  the
civilian personnel sitting quietly.
     "Don't  let the pressure off  now, I'm begging  you, reminding you that
we've lost millions upon millions of our finest to get to this point. Now is
when  we  should  be  tightening  the  screws,  hitting  them  all out  with
everything we have. Until  you stopped us ten days ago. Operation ъed  Three
held the promise of inflicting serious losses on the Empire  Ч it might have
permanently put them off balance.
     "Might have," Jamison  replied. "That is always  part of your  military
jargon, might have. There was  no guarantee. In earlier testimony today  you
heard  Admiral  Banbridge  state  that Kilrathi  front  line  carriers still
outnumbered ours  by nearly two  to  one.  Simulation studies  of ъed  Three
demonstrated  that the  probability  for full success  was less  than twenty
percent, and there was a twenty-five percent chance of a reversal and a loss
of most  of  our escort carriers  with little if anything gained.  You might
take such  things lightly, Admiral, after all  you would be  secure in  your
heavy carrier, but I lost  a son  on  one of those suicide  missions you and
your people so blithely send out."
     Tolwyn glared at Jamison.
     Her loss was well known  and she  made a point of attacking  the  fleet
whenever possible as a result.  He could feel some sympathy for her,  but on
the other side of the coin  was the fact that there was hardly anyone in the
room who had not  lost  loved ones  in  this war and  to  accuse him of  not
feeling that pain was enraging.
     He focused his thoughts and pushed on.
     "With  support  it  would have worked. But you obviously don't  want to
give that support now."
     "The question is moot," Admiral  Banbridge interjected, looking over at
Tolwyn, extending his hand in a calming gesture. "ъed Three was scrubbed ten
days ago and is impossible now to restart. Kilrathi  intelligence definitely
has the plans by now."
     "You just  don't get  the  whole  picture,  do you,  Admiral?"  Jamison
snapped. "Do you know just how much it  costs to build and  launch one fleet
carrier?
     "Seventy three  billion and some change," Jamison continued, not giving
Tolwyn a chance  to  interject. "A full  compliment of fighters  another ten
billion. In  the  last three years we've lost over one  and a half  trillion
dollars worth of carriers and fighters."
     "I  rather think of it  as some  fine young men and women that we lost,
such as your son," Tolwyn bristled.
     Jamison stared at Tolwyn with hate filled eyes.
     "You can think of it that way," Jamison replied, "but I and the rest of
the government also have  to look at the war from a financial light. It cost
nearly eight trillion a  year to run  the war and  we have a deficit of over
forty trillion. It'll take generations just to pay  that off.  Shortages are
wide spread,  in a  fair part of the Confederation  rationing  of everything
from fuel  to nylon to  eggs is  in place.  You say  we  shouldn't give  the
Kilrathi  a  breather?  I think rather  it  is  we who are  lucky to have  a
breather. The civilian population is  war weary, Tolwyn and after thirty-two
years  of fighting  I  think  we have  had enough and  for  that  matter the
Kilrathi  have had  enough  as well. I'm  sick to death of the  old military
logic of having to waste more blood to somehow uphold the honor of those who
are already  dead.  It's time to let the dead rest, Admiral. Let's finish it
now and get on with the peace."
     "I  find it difficult to accept that  a full accounting of the Kilrathi
armed forces has actually been reached," Tolwyn replied, falling back on the
second position of his argument. "I find it difficult to accept that  we are
actually allowing Kilrathi  personnel into Confederation  space as observers
and in general I find it  difficult  to accept that our  leaders would be so
foolish as to actually believe this entire affair."
     The  civilians in the room  bristled,  but ъodham held  up his hand and
nodded for Tolwyn to continue.
     "In the two years prior to your agreement to this armistice we  dealt a
series  of bitter reversals to the Kilrathi. It  must have  had an impact on
their morale.  As you  know, the young captain behind  me," and he paused to
nod back towards Jason, "took part in the destruction  of six carriers right
on the doorstep of the Imperial home planet.
     "Now is not  the  time to call an armistice;  now, if anything, is  the
time to jack the pressure up to the breaking point. I've  heard some of  you
say  that we  don't really understand the Kilrathi, that  down deep they are
just like us. I don't think so. Maybe  there'll come a day when we can  live
peacefully  with them, but unfortunately it is  not now.  We must deal  with
them  through strength.  All our psy-ops  studies  have  shown  that  if the
Kilrathi have contempt for anything it is for one who displays hesitation or
weakness. Even their word for such a person, tuka, is spoken with a sneering
contempt, a word so  insulting that a Kilrathi challenged with such  a smear
will fight to  the death. And I tell you now that we  are tuka in their eyes
if we fall for this subterfuge."
     There  was an  angry ripple in the  room and  even  Tolwyn's  superiors
stirred uncomfortably.
     "Only now are we really starting to learn of their political and social
system. Take that information and use it, consider the suggestion formulated
by the psy-ops division, plan K-7, which called for specific strikes against
the holdings  of  only  one or two families, making  them  share an  unequal
burden and perhaps cause a permanent rift triggering a civil war. Now is not
the time to stop, it's the time to finish this war on our terms."
     Jason could sense the frustration and heartbreak in Tolwyn's  voice and
looking  around  the room he  saw  the  division  in  feelings, some present
nodding their heads in agreement, while others  sat in silence, their  faces
like masks.
     We are making  the agreement on our  terms,"  Jamison retorted sharply,
her voice hard with anger.
     "Our observation teams have been granted full access to  Kilrathi  ship
yards  as  a  gesture  of  good  faith  to  see  that  no  further  military
construction takes place.  They're  pulling back  their  frontier bases  and
limiting patrols to light corvette-size ships within the demilitarized zone.
I've spent countless hours hashing out the details of this with Baron Jukaga
and I know that he is just  as fervent in  his desire to see this war end as
we are."
     "He is a liar."
     A bit  startled, all  in the room turned to  the Firekka representative
who throughout the two long days of meetings had remained silent.
     ъikik, the flock leader of her  world, stood  up  and  cocked her head,
looking  about the  room.  The Firekka were  something  of  a strange sight,
looking  like eight foot  parrots  one  only encountered  in  nightmares  or
hallucinations after a few too many drinks. Jason looked over at Hunter, who
had helped to save ъikik's life after she was taken prisoner by the Kilrathi
and his friend grinned.
     "Baron Jukaga is a liar,"  ъikik announced, looking about the room. "If
you humans are so  foolish as to  believe his words  then  you  are  doomed.
ъemember my planet, the  only world we lived upon, was  attacked by them for
their  Sivar ritual. Millions  of my flock died, our cities were smashed. It
will be  a generation or more before we  recover. I cannot now believe  that
you will agree to this foolishness."
     "My good friend," ъodham  said quietly, smiling as if ъikik were an old
companion who might have spoken  out of turn. "ъemember we too have suffered
in this  war.  It  has  lasted for over thirty  years. More  than a  hundred
colonial  worlds, and half  a  dozen  primary planets have been  devastated.
Billions have died, billions,"  he paused for  a moment, his features pained
and Jason  knew  it was not an act, for ъodham's  youngest daughter had been
killed during the First Enigma campaign.
     He cleared his throat and continued.
     "Thirty years of our blood, our wealth, and all our ingenuity  has been
poured into this conflict. Think of what we could have done with all that we
have spent  and lost if it had  only been applied to our continued  peaceful
expansion into the universe.
     "Admiral Tolwyn claims  that the  tide was  starting  to  turn. I don't
think so.  We have become like two wrestlers  of equal strength, locked in a
hold neither can use to bring his opponent down, and yet unable to break the
hold of his opponent. How much longer must this go on? Another thirty years,
another  generation dead and  still no end  in sight, until finally, one day
we'll  have bombed and burned and  stabbed  each other back  into the  stone
age?"
     "Baron Jukaga has offered a way out, to simply stop the killing. It  is
just that simple. We simply agree to stop. I know you in  the military don't
like  this; you're thinking of all  your comrades who have  died and now you
wonder for what? I'll tell you that they did die  for  something.  It wasn't
victory, since that is impossible, but they  did prevent defeat. To call for
the  war to continue now with the argument  that  the sacrifice had to  mean
something  is simply  to ask for the pouring of yet more blood on the graves
of those who do not want it."
     He hesitated for a moment.
     "I do not want my grandchildren to die the way my daughter has. I think
she would want them to live, to grow up without fear and live in peace."
     "They'll  die,  only  it'll  be  worse.  At  least your  daughter  died
fighting, your  grandchildren will die  having  their  throats  cut  for the
Sivar, the way my people died," ъikik cried, her voice shrill.
     "I  think that's out  of order and insensitive," an aide sitting behind
ъodham snapped angrily.
     "One can't worry about  being sensitive when the issue is the  survival
of a  nation or of an entire race," ъikik said in reply. "I'm sick  to death
of  the  word sensitivity when it is a mask for those  who  wish  to advance
their own cause at the  expense of  others. If the  Confederation is foolish
enough  to  take this  deal,  then  I will  take  the  Firekka  out  of  the
Confederation.
     "And who will protect you then?" Jamison replied sarcastically.
     "You did a damn poor job of protecting us when the Kilrathi hit us last
time,  your  fleet withdrawing Сout  of  strategic  necessity,' I  think you
called it. It  couldn't be any  worse on  our own, and  I'll tell  you this,
there'll be more than one frontier colonial world  that will go with us. You
don't even  see  members  of the Landreich worlds or  the  Grovsner colonies
here, since they want no part of this peace."
     "That's  treason,"  Jamison  sputtered, "and  if  the  colonial  worlds
violate the armistice they will be disciplined.
     "No, its survival and mark my words, there'll come a day when you  will
choke on the papers  you plan to sign here this day. And as for disciplining
the colonial worlds, just try it," ъikik said with a cold laugh.