She looked  around the room, more than  one  of  the military personnel
looking at  her  and nodding. Without  another word she drew back  from  the
table and stalked from the room, followed by her one aide.
     "Old K'Kai sure has taught her niece well," Hunter  whispered, waving a
slight greeting to his Firekka comrade as she followed her  niece out of the
room.
     There was a moment of uneasy silence.
     "I think that continued debate on this subject will only serve to cause
more animosity and outbreaks," ъodham finally said.  "I thank all of you for
your input over the last two days regarding this issue.
     "Here it comes, Ian whispered.
     "I plan  to sign the articles of the armistice within the hour and with
it establish a bilateral peace commission to work towards a permanent treaty
between the Terran Confederation and the Kilrathi Empire. You are invited to
join me if you wish. Thank you, ladies and gentlemen."
     ъodham stood up and walked out  of  the room, followed by the civilians
and staff.
     "Damn them to hell!"
     Jason looked over at Admiral Banbridge who flung his memo computer down
on the table and stormed out of the room through the opposite door.
     Tolwyn turned and looked back at Ian.
     "Well,  your  Firekka friends  sure played a damn  fine scene," he said
with a grin.
     "Think they'd really do it?" Jason asked, turning to Ian.
     Ian smiled.
     "Those birds  might  not look  like much when  you first meet them, but
I'll tell you this,  they make  the  finest  liquor  in this  corner  of the
universe and straight or drunk when they make a promise they keep it."
     "What about that threat of the  colonies not observing the  armistice?"
Jason asked.
     "Let's not talk  of  that now, Tolwyn  said quietly. "Shall we go watch
the show?"
     Though he  hated to admit it, Jason found that he  actually did want to
see  what was already being hailed as  the most historic moment in a hundred
years, as if all the victories and even the  defeats of the war  had already
become secondary.
     Tolwyn stood  up and started for the door that ъodham had gone through.
Admiral  Noragami, head of  the  Joint Chiefs of Staff came around  from the
other side of the table and approached Tolwyn.
     "Nice try, Geoff, but it was doomed from the start."
     Tolwyn nodded.
     "I heard that a little  something regarding you has  just come to light
as well," Nuragami said quietly.
     Tolwyn merely smiled and Nuragami extended his hand.
     "Take care  of yourself, Geoff," Nuragami said and turning he  went out
the  opposite door taken  by Banbridge.  Knowing how Tolwyn  felt  about the
whole affair,  Jason was more  than a little surprised  that his admiral was
not boycotting the signing as well.
     They  passed down a long corridor lined with Marine security guards and
stepped into an open cavernous hall which served  as the hangar bay for this
deep  space base,  the  vacuum of space  on the other side kept out  by  the
magnetic lock field
     How many times have I looked  out a bay like that,  he thought, sitting
inside  my  fighter, strapped in and waiting for the launch signal? The mere
thought  of it  set his heart racing  again.  Even  though  he  was glad the
fighting  had  stopped,  he  knew  he'd  miss  it,  the adrenaline  rush  of
launching,  the  pure  joy  of flying the  most powerful fighter  craft ever
built.  If this peace really did  hold,  all of that was finished. It was  a
strange feeling of relief and regret all at once.
     "Gonna miss it," Hunter said softly, standing by Jason's side.
     Hunter nodded that they should  follow Tolwyn, who was  slowly  weaving
his way through the crowd to stand with the small knot of military personnel
who had decided to witness the event
     A polished durasteel table  two meters  wide  was the only furniture in
the  middle of the hangar.  On  the table,  in  ornate gold embossed folders
rested  the armistice agreement with copies in Standard English and  Kilrah.
To one side more than  a hundred  representatives of the  Confederation were
present, easily  outnumbered  by  the hundreds  of members of the press. The
other side of the table and hangar was empty.
     A door on the far side of the hangar opened and a lone Kilrathi emerged
without fanfare, dressed in a simple uniform  of scarlet and gold. The press
turned their  cameras  on  him, several breaking with  protocol and shouting
questions.
     Baron Jukaga turned, looked  at them, and smiled, raising  his paw in a
friendly wave. The press went wild, moving in closer.
     "I have  a  little  formality to attend to  first," he  announced,  his
standard English nearly perfect  and  free of  the  tendency  of  putting  a
hissing s on soft ending words and hard k's on most others, "then we'll have
a chance to talk later," and his disarming informality caused several of the
press to laugh.
     Behind  him came yet more Kilrathi,  these in the  more  formal garb of
high officers and they  filed silently past  the cameras and lined up behind
Jukaga.  Jason  noticed  that  there  was  only  one  Kilrathi  photographer
recording  the  scene  as  compared  to  the swarm  of  reporters  from  the
Confederation side.
     "We have  reached  agreement then?" Jukaga asked standing  by the other
side of the table opposite ъodham.
     The president  smiled, nodded,  and pointed at the formal documents set
in the middle of the table.
     Without hesitating Jukaga took up a pen, signed the documents, and then
slid them  back to ъodham,  who signed it  as well. The two shook and Jukaga
turned and looked back at the press.
     "Friends, this armistice is  but a start.  Let us truly come to realize
that the  universe is big enough for both of  us  and that a permanent peace
can be arrived at. These proceedings are now ended."
     A cheer erupted and Tolwyn, shaking his head, looked back at Jason.
     "He certainly knows his  Earth  history with  that closing line.  Let's
hope it isn't prophetic as to who the ultimate winner is."
     Jason wanted to ask him to explain  the reference but decided to let it
pass.
     The crowd  started to break apart into smaller groups many heading  for
the refreshments arrayed along a side wall. Jason followed in Tolwyn's  wake
and noticed a Kilrathi officer coming up to them.
     "You are Tolwyn?' the Kilrathi asked.
     "Yes."
     "I am Tukarg. I was in command of the carrier Gi'karga in what you call
the Third Enigma  Campaign.  I wished  to  tell  you your counterstrike  was
masterful."
     Taken off guard Tolwyn said nothing.
     "I also understand  you commanded the  opening of  the recent action at
Munro."
     Tolwyn  still  remained  silent.  From  behind Tukarg  another Kilrathi
appeared and Jason was surprised to see that it was the Baron.
     He was not as  tall as most Kilrathi and could even be called slight by
their  standards, though  that was still powerful when compared to  a human.
His  coat was  a smooth  golden  red,  and from what little  Jason  knew  of
Kilrathi blood lines,  the coloring was a  mark  of the most noble breeding.
His  eyes were dark, almost  coal black, but  as  he approached a  flash  of
reflected light made them appear to  glow for an  instant with the  color of
fire.
     "A nice quote of MacArthur," Tolwyn said as  Jukaga approached. "Did it
have some hidden meaning?"
     Jukaga laughed softly.
     "Maybe a bad  choice on my part; I didn't want to imply that it was you
surrendering to us."
     "I understand you've read a lot of our literature.
     Jukaga smiled.
     "A hobby I've found fascinating. Your Chaucer's tales are much the same
as our own  Backrka's СTomes of Sivar,' about a group  of pilgrims traveling
to a holy shrine.
     Tolwyn smiled.
     "A nice choice of English works to study," Tolwyn said.
     "Ah yes, you were born near Canterbury."
     "However,  the pilgrimage to the  tomb  of Thomas Becket  had  slightly
different rituals than the blood feast of Sivar," Tolwyn replied.
     "Different people, different customs,  as they say, but nevertheless  I
do enjoy your literature."
     "You've spent time then studying me?" Tolwyn asked.
     "You were an adversary. I heard you led the first wave at Vukar Tag, of
course I would want to know more of you."
     "So you read Chaucer, is that it?"
     Jukaga laughed
     "Amongst others."
     "And who are some of the others?" Tolwyn asked quietly.
     Jukaga smiled.
     "Political, intellectual writers."
     "Such as Machiavelli, Sun Tzu," Tolwyn ventured, "or perhaps some pages
from the writings of Mao or  General Giap and  his writings on how to weaken
an opponent through means other than war; or perhaps  a little Clausewitz or
the Alpha Centurian theorist Vitivius the Younger."
     "Why those in particular? Is this a recommended reading list?"
     "No," Tolwyn said quietly, "just speculation."
     "Ah,  another  mistrustful  military  man," Jukaga  replied  his  voice
pitched  a little  louder so that the press who had  gathered at the edge of
the group could hear better.
     "Your assumption, not mine," Tolwyn replied softly.
     "Yet another prophet of doom that peace will never work," and he paused
for a second, noticing  that several reporters and  cameramen were jockeying
into position to catch the encounter.
     "Admiral, aren't  we  late for  our dinner  appointment?"  Jason  said,
coming up  behind Tolwyn, lying  like mad,  but unable to think of a  better
excuse to extract his commander.
     "Don't  forget, Geoffrey .  .  ."  and Jukaga  paused,  "May I call you
that?'
     "My friends do," Tolwyn replied coldly.
     "All right,  then  Admiral. Let me remind  you that  we  Kilrathi  have
suffered  just as  much  in this unfortunate war.  We have lost  millions as
well. I've heard you people talk about atrocities, but we have suffered them
too."
     He looked over at Jason and smiled again.
     "Though there  were some of your warriors who did fight with  honor and
tried  to  protect  our  innocent  women and  children, even  if  they  were
Сfurballs as you so ineloquently put it."
     Jason felt uncomfortable  by his  attention but  looked  back  at  him,
saying nothing.
     Jukaga hesitated for a moment as if not wishing to say something.
     "Speaking of atrocities," Tukarg, standing behind Jukaga, interjected.
     "Let it drop, it's over," Jukaga replied
     Tukarg shook his head
     "I  had clan  blood on that ship," Tukarg said coldly and  he turned to
look at the press.
     We have  intelligence information that your Admiral  Tolwyn launched an
attack against  one of our ships  after he  had already received the  report
that  a  preliminary  armistice  agreement  had been  reached and  that  all
offensive action was to cease. Such an act is a war crime."
     "An  honest mistake,"  Jukaga said as if almost apologizing for Tukarg.
"And besides," he said with  a  forced laugh,  "now you've gone and revealed
that we had cracked their latest fleet code.
     "I'm  sorry this has  come  up,"  Jukaga  continued, "but perhaps there
should be an investigation to clear your name."
     "There's no need for an investigation," Tolwyn said quietly
     "Oh, then of course you are innocent."
     "No, quite the contrary," Tolwyn  replied, "I did it because it was  my
duty. Now if you'll excuse me."
     He nodded curtly and turned away.
     The press swarmed after him shouting  questions,  shouldering Jason and
Ian out of the way.
     "Nicely done," Jason said coldly, looking straight at Jukaga.
     For  a  brief instant  he felt as if he could almost sense the contempt
and then the smile returned.
     "I didn't want it to happen. I know how a warriors blood can get up. It
was unfortunate but such incidents  happen in war.  It was  best to leave it
forgotten now that it is over."
     "But of course," Jason said coldly.
     "You were the one who raided our home world, weren't you?"
     "First to  Kilrah,"  Jason  said quietly,  repeating what  was  now the
slogan of his ship.
     Again there seemed to be that flash.
     "Masterful; I studied it intently afterwards."
     "I just bet you did," Ian replied.
     "Perhaps  we'll talk again someday," Jukaga said stiffly and turning he
walked off, the smile returning as he waved to the cameras.
     "Come  on," Jason said angrily, looking over at  Hunter, "let's get out
of here, I need to find a bathroom."
     Jukaga turned back and watched Tolwyn  disappear from view,  surrounded
by a horde of  press shouting questions.  Tolwyn's actions had caught him by
surprise.  It  was  a  convenient way of  removing one of  the  finest fleet
admirals of the Confederation and to discredit the fleet as well. And yet it
struck him as  strange that Tolwyn would allow his passion to get the better
of  him. It  did not  fit  the pattern at  all of a man  he  had  studied so
intently. He found that he almost felt sorry for him. How easily he had been
destroyed,  not in  battle,  but by a ruse. The ever eager reporters  of the
Confederation, who  would now destroy a man that the best  fleet officers of
the Empire found to be unbeatable.
     Yes,  he could feel sorry for him even if he  was the enemy,  and  that
realization Jukaga found to be almost troubling.


        CHAPTEъ THъEE

     "All engines stop."
     "All engines stop, sir. Hard dock to station secured"
     Docking a  ship the size  of an  escort carrier was always  a  bit of a
tricky  job, and with the maneuver finished Jason sat back  in his chair and
took a sip of coffee.
     He looked around at  his bridge crew who stood silent. The speeches had
already  been made earlier when  the rest of  the crew, except  for the  few
hands necessary  for  this  final run out from Earth  orbit, had transferred
off.
     There was simply nothing more to be said.
     "Secure reactor to cold shut down," he said softly.
     He paused for a moment.
     "I guess that's it."
     The crew was unable to reply.
     "Dock yard officer coming aboard,"  a petty officer announced and Jason
nodded.
     A  minute  later he heard  the footsteps  in the corridor and  tried to
force a smile. A  lone  officer came on  to  the bridge,  faced  Jason,  and
saluted.
     "Lieutenant Commander  Westerlin, commander fleet yard five, requesting
permission to come aboard, sir."
     He tried to be formal in reply but his voice still caught slightly.
     "Permission granted," and returned the salute.
     The officer pulled out a small piece of paper and unfolded it.
     "By  order  of  C-in-C  ConFleet,  to Captain  Jason  Bondarevsky,  CVE
Tarawa," the  officer began,  and Jason could see he  had  been through  the
ritual so many times that he barely needed to read the orders.
     "As of  the  this date, CVE 8 Confederation Fleet Ship Tarawa is hereby
officially stricken from active list  and placed in inactive reserve. Unless
otherwise  noted in  attached  form below, all  officers and crew are hereby
discharged from active fleet service upon completion of all proper discharge
procedures and placed on inactive reserves. Signed C-in-C ConFleet."
     The officer folded the paper and hesitated for a moment.
     "Sir,  its  a  bit  out of  form but I also  received  a note  from the
Commander of Third Fleet, Admiral Banbridge, which he asked me to read."
     Jason nodded, and the officer unfolded the piece of paper.
     "Never in the annals of the fleet has so  much  been accomplished by  a
ship such  as yours. I am proud  to  have  served with all  of you. The name
Tarawa will not be forgotten, God bless you all."
     The officer handed the paper to Jason, who smiled.
     "Sir, for what's it's worth I hate this job," the officer said quietly.
"A lot of  the other ships I don t  really  care about, but your ship, sir,"
and he hesitated. "Sir, I'm sorry I have to take over this old girl. She's a
proud ship."
     "So am I," Jason sighed "Just take good care of her."
     "We'll do our best."
     He turned and looked back at his crew.
     "Time you folks shipped off. I'll be along shortly."
     One by one they filed off the  bridge, Jason  standing  by the door and
shaking the hand of each until finally he was alone except for Westerlin.
     "I'll  leave you alone  if you  want,  sir," the officer said, as if he
were  a mortician  withdrawing from the  side of a grieving widower, and  he
silently stepped off the bridge.
     Jason walked around the bridge one last time.  It  had been his  bridge
for really only a  very short time. After  the raid  on  Kilrah the ship had
been laid up for a year.  It would in  fact have  been far cheaper to simply
scrap her and  build a new one from scratch, but public opinion was dead set
against it. During that  year he'd  been stuck  Earthside,  assigned to  the
fleet war college for advanced training, finishing up with  a brief stint at
the  Academy to run their latest holo combat simulator training program. But
the ship had sailed at last, only to serve  in one final brief action before
the armistice. Yet, it was his ship, it was in fact, since Kilrah, the  only
thing he really loved.
     He could  have stayed  longer, but then farewells should never be drawn
out. Leaving the bridge without a backward glance he went into his cabin and
hoisted the  duffel bag  off  his  bed.  The room looked  sterile now,  just
another standard  ship's  room,  painted  the  usual  light green,  with one
closet, a bed, a desk, and a  computer terminal and holo projection box. The
few pictures on his desk, his brother and  himself  taken before Joshua  had
gone off to the Marines, and died  on Khorsan, a faded two dimensional image
of his mother and father taken on the day they were married, and  a shot  of
Svetlana that  one of her  friends in  the Marines had sent along  after her
death Ч they were in his duffel.
     He closed the door behind him and walked down the now dimmed corridors.
He passed the flight ready  room and  had a  flash memory of  his  first day
aboard, chewing out his new pilots, and  passed on into the hangar deck. The
ъapiers, Ferrets, and Sabres lined the deck and it felt strange to  hear the
silence.  No  engines  humming,  no  shouted   commands  blaring   over  the
loudspeakers, the hissing roar of the catapult or the thunderclap of engines
kicking in  afterburners  on  a hot  launch.  It  was a  silence that was as
complete and deeply disturbing as if he were walking through a tomb.
     He turned to face the bulkhead and the roll of honor  listing all those
who had died while  serving aboard the ship. Coming to attention he  saluted
the honor roll and then noticed that the commissioning  flag which should be
to the right of the honor roll was  missing. He felt a flicker of anger over
that, wondering who had taken  it  down, and turning started for the airlock
door which was secured to the shipyard docking station. Turning the  corner,
he saw a small line  of men and women waiting for him: Doomsday, Sparks (his
head of  fighter maintenance), Kevin  Tolwyn,  and last  of  all  Ian Hunter
looking  strange  indeed  dressed  in  civilian  mufti,  having been already
retired from the fleet the day before. The group came to attention, saluted,
and Kevin  stepped forward to hand  Jason a folded flag,  the  commissioning
pennant of Tarawa.
     "Thought you'd  want  this, sir," Kevin said  with a grin. "Someday you
might want to hang it back up again."
     "Thanks, Kevin."
     To one  side he saw a group of technicians,  the  mothballing crew, who
would  fi