Wing Commander #07 False Color by William Forstchen (novels for students TXT) 📗

Empire, and if orange Kilrah was gone, they could make any world the new hub of a glorious imperial state. This one, now . . . he had viewed Baka Kar as a place of exile when Thrakhath had "awarded" him the governorship of Hralgkrak, but it would make a suitable capitol for the Haka Dynasty.

The view through the window showed him a world not unlike Kilrah. The vegetation was a deep purple, rather than the red-brown of Home, but the jungles that surrounded Brajakh Kar—the Fortress of the Dark—were just as lush and full of game. The planet was an old colony, with everything needed to be self-sufficient . . . and it was the center of a province of eight-eights of other worlds all replete with the resources to fuel his lunge to destiny.

Thrakhath had treated him lightly, once. Now Thrakhath was beyond his vengeance. But when Ukar dai Ragark took his rightful place at the head of the reborn Empire, he would make sure that Thrakhath and all of Thrakhath's clan were erased from the annals of the Kilrathi people. Only Ragark and his heirs would remain.

He turned at last from the window and walked slowly toward the door, careful to hide the limp he'd suffered since childhood. Not that anyone was likely to remark on it, not like they had when it had prevented him from becoming a warrior. No one dared call attention to his shortcomings now. But Ragark was too proud to betray weakness. He had schooled himself to hide the physical handicap, as he had learned the arts of government and of war to carve himself a place despite the scorn of his peers.

The lift took him down a level, from the meditation chamber to the Hall of Warriors where his fleet captains waited nervously. When he entered the room they stood in unison, saluting and raising the battle-call of the Haka. That made the blood surge through Ragark's veins. By the War God, he could lead these warriors to victory!

A table stood at the front of the Hall, under a large monitor screen. Ragark settled his small but stocky frame into the lone chair and watched as the others sat. These were the officers who controlled his warfleet. Some had slighted him in the past; they would pay when he no longer needed them. Some had been his willing allies or servants from the very start. They would enjoy the fruits of victory with him. Many others were nonentities, like so many of the military and political officers consigned to this backwater province during Thrakhath's day. Their fate would depend upon their performance in the days and months ahead. Ragark didn't intend to let any officer long survive the kind of mistakes that had cost Thrakhath victory time and time again during the war with the Terrans.

But one and all were needed now, and with their aid the name of Haka would be feared once more.

"Today we will begin to put in motion our new campaign against the apes," Ragark began with a show of teeth. "The probing actions we have already conducted along the frontier with this 'Landreich' have given us the intelligence we need to consider a campaign in strength against them. It will not be as Thrakhath would have had it, quick and ill-conceived. We will carry out our conquest step by step, taking care that our position remains secure throughout. But in the end, we will have the ape worlds for our own."

"And their Confederation?" That was Akhjer nar Val, the captain of the province's flagship Dubay. . "We know they can make new Temblor Bombs. Do we not run the risk of losing more worlds to them?"

He favored nar Val with a long and penetrating look. Dubav's captain had an impressive battle record; he'd commanded a carrier at the Battle of Earth, and had received an Award of Valor for a single-ship action with a human escort carrier the next year. Ragark needed him, at least for the moment, to add some seasoning to a battle fleet roster that had few enough genuine combat veterans. But while nar Val was deemed apolitical, he had a conservative streak in his character that made him one of the cautious ones, one of the officers who looked on lost Kilrah with fear and despair. That could be a problem some day.

"The Terran Confederation is satisfied with the peace the traitor Melek has signed with them." That brought a few angry mutters from the assembled officers. Melek had been no more than Thrakhath's chief lackey, yet after Kilrah's destruction he had arrogantly assumed the power to negotiate with the enemy, as if a low-born servant of the Imperial House could presume to the Throne itself. Melek called himself "Chancellor" these days, and pretended to have control of the Empire, but Ragark wasn't the only clan leader or senior officer to ignore the upstart's claims. "They want nothing more than to disband their military forces and go back to the decadence they enjoyed before they encountered us. This Landreich that stands in our way is an offshoot, a breakaway association of colonies with so little loyalty that they refused the guidance of their own mother planet and formed their own government in defiance of the Confederation . . . and the cowards of Terra let that defiance stand. There is no reason for the Confederation to take an interest in what we do out here. At least, not until it is too late."

Ragark paused before going on. "In any event, we will soon be acquiring a powerful new accession of strength which will once and for all put us in a position to dominate the apes. I have recently had the final confirmation. Jhorrad is coming here to offer his claws and fangs to our service."

A muttering sprang up around the room as Ragark's words sank in. Dawx Jhorrad had become something of a legend in the Empire in a few eights-of-days.