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CAPTURED BY THE CLANS (part 2 of 3), a Science Fiction tale.

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Captured by the Clans

Glen Ten-Eyck (De Writer)

written, 2006

18231 words

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Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights. They may reblog the story. They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions, provided that such things are done without charge. I will allow those who do commission art works to charge for their images.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fictions is actively encouraged.

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Captured by the Clans (part 2 of 3)

Heads all about the War Room turned at that. “Planetary damage?” F’rufan questioned. “What is this strategy? We seem to have missed something. We were thinking that the M’cratt would come in from off the ecliptic like they did at K’stall.”

Voice almost dripping with sarcasm, T’cass replied, “Oh, sure. I forgot that Lezon’s attack plans are all carbon copies of each other! She has never repeated an attack plan unless it was a sucker play to set you up for something else.

“Let me talk to the Feront. That way I will only have to explain this once.”

Sourly, F’rufan signaled to open the channel. On the screen four reptilian appearing beings, long of hind leg and tail, heads like long narrow arrowheads with jaws full of teeth, looked into the War Room.

Although the four heads each scanned a separate part of the room, they all spoke at once, “Entity, T’cass! It is good to see you. Why have my signals been ignored? I bear a reply to the protest filed by the Entity, Council of Clans.

“The reply of the Entity Treaty Commission to the Entity Council of Clans is: Protest rejected. This Conflict is specifically acceptable under the terms of the Treaty between the Entities presently engaged. No present violations of the Treaty have been observed.

“I have arrived in accord with your summons and the Treaty to observe this conflict for violations. According to both Treaty and law, I shall not interfere unless violations are observed. Message to Entity Council of Clans ends.”

T’cass composed herself and spoke. “Entity Feront, it is good to see you again. It has been long, as this Entity counts time, since I last spoke to you. Have you news of my instructing Entity, K’lass, from the School of All Conflict?”

The polyphonic voice of the Feront changed as two more of the creature entered it’s transmission field and one left but the words flowed seamlessly, “I have word that is only four weeks past. The Entity K’lass wished you to keep your fangs and your claws as sharp as your knife. The Way is all.”

The others in the War Room saw T’cass relax visibly at the Feront’s words. “Please tell the Entity K’lass that I have kept the Way, even among the strangeness of those who do not understand it.

“Now,” T’cass leaned forward intently, “I need Treaty Commission permission to destroy some worlds.”

The alien heads focused on T’cass’ face like there was no other object there. “These worlds are not inhabited nor can their destruction endanger inhabited spheres.”

T’cass smiled, though that gesture meant nothing to the Feront. “Thank you for the permission. There are software blocks that prevent our computers from calculating the necessary tactics. May I relay through your computers? In this way, the Treaty Commission will be fully informed of the strategy and tactics to be employed.”

**********

Lezon examined the scouting data from C’ustance in the chart tank of the Hand of Claws and nodded. Her enemy was definitely a Warrior. The fleet that should have been milling about C’ustance was gone. There were more fusion product traces headed for the singularity than the passage of her own fleet could account for.

“So, where did thy go?” asked M’ase, looking over Lezon’s shoulder. There was an admiral waiting patiently for Lezon to notice her. Lezon signaled the admiral to come over and join them at the hologram chart tank.

“That’s where,” said Lezon, pointing at the singularity.

Brow furrowed in puzzlement, the admiral asked, “Did they try to follow us? Shall we prepare for an assault?”

It was M’ase who figured it out suddenly. Her whiskers shot erect and she exclaimed, “They went around that thing faster than the Feront on a hot rock! They’ve bypassed us entirely and gone on to M’onafar! Will that change your battle plan, Lezon?”

Lezon nodded. “Of course it will. The question becomes what they have and can get to M’onafar. My original estimate was based on their keeping most of the Main Fleet in the Combine Worlds as a defensive measure. I now believe that the new Warrior on their side will convince them to move in most or all of the Main Fleet. The Central Fleet will certainly be there. All of the retreat from K’stall has gone to M’onafar as well.

“The battles will go on for a while afterwards but the war will be decided there at M’onafar. Their Warrior knows this and will have as much firepower as possible concentrated in that system.”

Lezon adjusted the scale and studied the M’onafar system. She was watching the movement of the planets and the data on the planets themselves. She nodded to herself at what she saw there.

What scouting data they had was projected into the system. M’ase studied the map tank and pointed at an asteroid field between the second and third gas giant planets. “It looks as though they have tried to hide their ships in among the rocks. Would they really do that?”

This particular admiral was one who had earned Lezon’s respect in the past and did so again. Baring a fang on one side of her muzzle, she scratched it with her foreclaw as she thought the problem through. “If these were just the Clanners, I would say probably. Our war leader has just said that however it happened, they have a Warrior leading them now, so probably not. That group is a decoy that we were meant to find.

“My guess is that they have everything that can resist pressure far down under the atmospheres of the giants. If we pounce on those decoys, they will strike us from the planets. We will be going too fast to maneuver easily and they will be doing a slow start out of those gravity wells. They will be able to maneuver better than we can.

“Those planets orbit so slowly that the triangle formation they’re in will basically be the same when we get there. The fourth planet is too far out and off position to be strategically useful.”

She smiled as she saw Lezon nodding agreement. Lezon said, “Right. It’s a trap and neatly laid, too. This system doesn’t have an old signal laser. I checked. We still need to scout the photosphere of M’onafar, just to be sure that the Clan Warrior hasn’t put some other nasty surprise there.”

**********

Empire scouts, all legs and no guns, flashed through the M’onafar system, passing close to the star and the three gas giant planets gathering information. Throughout the asteroid field, idling power plants shut down as the scouts were detected. The scouts found the slight tachyon traces of power plants hidden in the planetary atmospheres, too. They were hard to detect and impossible to number, swamped as they were by the natural tachyon noise of the big planets.

T’cass watched the scouts go back out of the system and get lost out of detection range. In the hologram tank of the chart, things appeared to be going as she had hoped. She felt sad for the decoys that she had positioned in the asteroids between the planets and down in their atmospheres. As many as possible were simply remotely controlled vehicles.

Soon the first battle group of the M’cratti came in at high sub C numbers. They were relying on speed and a cunningly chosen angle to protect them from the firepower hidden in the planets. According to plan, the power plants all through the asteroids came to life and ships rose from the planet atmospheres to defend from the attack.

The M’cratti strike force swatted many of them with contemptuous ease as they roared past.

Lezon’s feint having drawn the enemy out, her forces now committed in a three wave attack coming in at lower speeds in order to preserve maneuverability. Each of the three gas giants was attacked simultaneously by medium and heavy cruisers backed up by her dreadnoughts. The second wave, well back, were the Talon carriers, waiting to launch their swarms of deadly fighters as soon as targets presented themselves. The reserves hung further back yet, waiting to go wherever needed.

T’cass sprung her trap. An icosahedral array of fire balls rose up on each planet. Contraction restriction fields and fusion engine igniters working in concert caused the hydrogen rich atmospheres to become enormous bombs. The planets shattered, flash and radiation simply swamped the defensive fields of many ships. Physical damage from debris was also enormous.

Intelligence was working swiftly to sort out the emergency calls and detect the ruined ships that were not capable of signaling. T’cass watched, both pleased and saddened, as any true Warrior must be. Somewhere around a third of the enemy’s strength was destroyed. Much of what was left was seriously weakened. It was time.

On her signal, ships came to life in the Trojan position asteroids, sixty degrees ahead and behind the orbit of the central gas giant planet, and rising out of the atmosphere of the fourth gas giant, the one furthest out and badly out of position for standard tactics.

**********

Lezon, aboard the Hand of Claws, saw the trap sprung from the safer distance of the second wave. In both horror and admiration, she raised a claw to her unknown Warrior adversary.

Wasting no time on trying to salvage her original plan, she signaled, “Every ship still under power, Lezon dive the star! Choose targets of opportunity as you clear the limb. Work to keep the Clan battle groups separated! Good Hunt!”

M’ase did not seek further orders. The Hand of Claws was already boosting in toward the star at her highest acceleration. Lezon ran for the launch bays. The time for strategic command was past. She got into her vacuum gear and settled into her familiar Talon, tightening buckles and straps with the skill of long practice. All about her, the other pilots of her wing were doing the same. She settled her Warrior’s knife into its safety clips and reported, “Lezon Treh K’lass, ready for launch!” One by one her wing reported in. The technicians completed last checks and retreated to the vacuum locks. It always seemed to take longer than Treh’s Hunt for All the Stars to get the air pumped out of the bay. At last, the bay doors slid smoothly open.

Raw sunlight slammed into the bay from less than two million kilometers away. Filters automatically darkened to compensate. Even so, the interior of the bay stood in stark relief.

M’ase’s voice came crisply over the comm circuit. “Wing group target acquired and locked into your computers. Good Hunt!” Powerful electromagnetic launch rails hurled Lezon’s wing free of the ship’s defensive fields.

Her combat group formed up behind her, boosting with all power at a wide vector away from the ship. The simple essence of the Lezon dive was to change vectors while hidden in the tachyon background of the star and surprise your enemy by emerging in a powered cometary orbit from a less predictable position. Looking outward from the star gave the diver a better position to choose her targets, too.

As the battle group came clear, they saw the situation. It was bad but Lezon could see the way to salvage it. Even with the disaster, the Clans were out numbered and out gunned.

Most of the M’cratti ships under power had followed orders and dove for the safety of the star. Someone, almost certainly their Warrior, had got some true discipline into the Clanners. They hadn’t followed the M’cratt forces in their dive. That was bad.

Worse, their unusually disciplined forces were waiting for the M’cratti to come around the star. They had left spotters behind in the widely spaced Trojan asteroids to see the M’cratt emergence as soon as possible. Their heavy ships, System Siege Cruisers and Battleships, were opening fire under the direction of the spotters, long before the heavies themselves could actually see their targets. The spotter directed fire was having a deadly effect on the ships of the Empire.

Lezon called out over her battle link, “Hand of Claws, Wing One! We need to take out those spotters in the Galactic West Trojans! Go for the big …” The blast knocked out her communications and engine power.

Her wing rose on past, away from M’onafar, going to attack the target locked in their computers, the wrong target. They left her behind, alone in her unpowered Talon. Lezon looked about as well as she was able from the cockpit. She had been hit astern. The damage was beyond visual sight and the cameras facing that way were dead.

Her instruments told a curious tale. The power capsule was intact, of course. If it had been breached, she would simply be an expanding cloud of vapor. There was weapon power. The inertial drive diagnostic circuits were intact. So far as she could tell, the drive unit itself was functional, if it could get power. There were hull breaches back there leaving a hard vacuum in the power section.

Vacuum was not a problem, per se. Lezon’s combat suit was a vacuum survival device, not a true working engineer’s space suit but it would do. She had pressure in the life system but it was slowly leaking away. She shut down the air feed to the cabin life support and disconnected herself from the system. After bleeding her cabin air into space to equalize pressure, she opened the aft serviceway.

Looking at the damage from the inside, it looked more like a M’cratt disruptor hit than one by a Clan Tachyon battery. First things first, though, power. The capsule floated in the center of its cradle but four of the heavy distribution cables had been destroyed. The secondary explosion from the superconducting cable saturation blast had actually done most of the real harm. Superconductors either work perfectly or fail catastrophically. Four out of five had failed. The whole power bay was riddled by their shrapnel.

The weapon power cable was intact. It was the only one that was. The attack had come from dead astern. That was telling.

All that Lezon needed to do was shift the surviving power cable to the inertial drive.

It was more complicated than that, of course. The power capsule had to be shut down first. That was normally controlled by software. The control computer was a mass of shattered circuit boards, shot through by shrapnel from the failed cables. Lezon studied the situation and began to short wires by hand because of the destroyed switch gear. If she did this wrong, either the capsule would be damaged beyond restart or it would explode.

After a tense few moments, the capsule began to drift in its cradle. It had shut down. Lezon removed the remains of the damaged cables, hoping to find a usable connector. One, somewhat closer to the inertial drive looked to be usable. Lezon shifted the weapon cable to it. Unhitching the big cable from the weapons system wasn’t easy without proper service tools.

Lezon’s suit air was going foul by the time that the cable was free and wrestled out of its multitude of clamps. No matter how she tried to route it, the cable was about three inches too short. If only one of the other connectors was serviceable… None was.

Splicing was out of the question. The cable’s size was due to the liquid nitrogen cooling jacket. That had to remain intact. That was why the special connectors were needed. No other superconducting cable had survived. There was husky bit of copper over in the weapon system. Perhaps it would do… It depended on whether the interior of the inertial drive was a superconducting device… If it was, the resistance of the copper would cause it to fail as explosively as the cables had.

Lezon didn’t know the answer to that question. Inertial drives were sealed units. Having little to lose, she patched in the copper. It was done. Either it would work, or not. She crawled back forward to the pilot’s seat and plugged in her air supply. Her suit was holding pressure but the cabin wouldn’t. She wasted no air trying to pressurize it. She just sat and breathed clean suit air for a bit.

She activated the drive system at low power. The little Talon began to accelerate away from the star. Since she could no longer communicate, she aimed for the last known course of the Hand of Claws and hoped for retrieval. There was a self powered emergency transponder in her ship, so she activated it.

A few moments later, she noticed the glow from the engine bay and frantically reached to shut off the power to the drive. She never got her hand to the switch. The glow became a glare of green vaporized copper and the impact of the detonating superconductors jolted the little vessel.

Lezon felt the red hot metal tearing through her body and blasting her exposed arm away. As consciousness faded, Lezon composed herself to meet K’lass of the Triple Goddess and be guided to the Cave of Life to meet her namesake.

**********

It was wrong. Things were blurry and wouldn’t come into focus. One thing was certain. This wasn’t the Cave of Life. Lezon concentrated, trying to figure out where she was. She was sure that it wasn’t an Imperial hospital ship.

A voice intruded on her consciousness, calling, “T’cass! Your property’s awake!”

A tart voice rebuked, “My slave earned her Name. She is Lezon! By her Owner’s order you will use it! If she has more Names we will find out when she can speak.”

The owner of the second voice strode into the room and sat in Lezon’s clear view. Conversationally, she said, “I thought that you were too tough to die. My name is T’cass. I think, based on the markings of the Talon I found you in, that you and I fought at K’stall. You gave me the Obligation of Return.

“I have paid for your regeneration. We saved your brain, most of your central nervous system and a few of your organs. I hope that you were not attached to your pad marks, iris patterns, retinas or hide pattern and color. All that I could afford were random replacements on those issues.”

Her captor’s hands were moving with apparent nervousness. Actually they were giving Hunter’s Signs. “The walls listen. Only I know who you are. You must act with me for now or I cannot protect you from our enemies.”

Lezon’s left hand twitched back, “Our enemies?”

T’cass spoke directly, “I have unfortunate news for you, Lezon. Your War Leader, Lezon Treh K’lass was killed, five months ago, at M’onafar. I personally recovered her destroyed Talon. The lease of it for public display provided much of the care that you have received. I have kept her Warrior’s Knife safe.

“I found you in another wreck, not far from hers. There was no trace of her left. Her life system took a direct hit and there was other damage as well. Here.”

T’cass stepped near and projected a hologram of Lezon’s Talon. It was far more damaged than Lezon remembered. T’cass directed, “Look at the stern areas. You can see that she got hit twice there, probably before the life system was destroyed.”

Knowing that she was being showed this for a reason, Lezon focused carefully on the stern. Clan Tachyon battery damage nearly disguised a prior hit. There was unmistakable damage from a low powered Talon Disruptor. Now Lezon understood what T’cass meant about enemies. Someone had tried to assassinate her and only the Triple Goddess had prevented it.

She signed, “You kept my Knife? Why?”

T’cass smiled, with a slight baring of a fang. She signed back, “Because you put your soul into it when you made it, just as I did with mine. I could not keep you safe and sell your soul. I am a Warrior of K’lass’ School of All Conflict too! Your honor and life are safe in my claws, Battle Friend!” She reached out and took Lezon’s mobile left hand. Her right was bound in place and had tubes and wires in it.

Lezon struggled to speak. Her new body did not yet respond as well as it should. “What of the war?” she croaked.

T’cass sat again and thought before answering. “We won at M’onafar. Your people might have taken us with that sun dive. It was a near thing. Your heavy ships repeated our mistake at K’stall. They committed too soon, with poorly chosen targets. I would guess that it was due to the loss of Lezon’s guiding touch.”

She paused and thought, clearly deciding what to tell and how much. “After that, we lost at C’ursair. I have heard that battle had already been planned by War Leader Lezon.

“The Treaty Commission destroyed over one fourth of our fleet at H’rizin in the process of stopping us from space borne bombardment of an inhabited industrial world with biosphere destructive weapons. I was sitting on the Strategy Board and tried to prevent that from happening. I resigned when they attempted to do a second bombardment at B’lance.

“We were stopped there too. M’cratt itself was being scheduled for total destruction. The Treaty Commission found out and did a preemptive strike on the fleet sent to do it.

“The Empress Triad is suing for a cessation of battle. Effectively, the war is over.”

Lezon digested that for a while. T’cass let her think. Finally, Lezon said, “I did fight you at K’stall. I gave you the Obligation of the Return. You have shown a true Warrior’s spirit in this rescue. It has clearly cost you much. Your Honor has cost you a leader’s position. I hope that saving me was no part of that loss. You planned the battle at K’stall. It was a masterful defense. M’onafar was brilliant.”

T’cass inclined her head in silent acknowledgment of praise from a true master. She carefully asked, “In the laws of both of our kinds, you are war booty. My slave. I can do nothing about the laws. I can, with your help, do something about our relationship. Will you submit to me?”

Lezon, gaining control of her new body swiftly, now that she was aware of the regeneration problem, shot a curious look at T’cass. “Submit?” she asked. “Not surrender?”

Briskly, T’cass replied, “Of course not surrender. You must never surrender to me. I did not defeat you.”

Lezon tried to smile at that. “Can’t submit yet. I don’t have a Warrior’s Knife to do it properly.”

The medical tech that had first called T’cass entered the room. She looked Lezon over carefully, moving joints and prodding expertly. She looked up at them both and said, “I have been monitoring everything said in this room. Since she … Lezon … is a M’cratti slave, the monitoring is required by law. While she is here in the hospital, she cannot be allowed near any sort of weapon.”

Pausing, she added, “The monitoring system will be down for the next five minutes due to a drive change. I hope that it will be long enough.” She pointed to an orange light on one of the pieces of equipment hooked to Lezon. “That will go red when the monitor is live again.” She bustled out.

T’cass drew her big Warrior’s Knife with its pattern welded steel. She held it between them, back of the blade to Lezon, and intoned, “With my own hands I forged this Knife at K’lass’ school. It was made in the same forge as the blade of Lezon Treh K’lass. As your own Knife is not presently available, I offer you my soul. Submit. Learn. Fight by my side.”

She handed the weapon to Lezon who tried to hold it up. She was still too weak. The medi-tech came in swiftly and gripped Lezon’s wrist. “How do you need to hold it?” she asked.

Lezon looked at the tech in surprise and said, “Across between us, back to my Mentor.” The tech simply provided Lezon’s arm with the necessary support so that Lezon herself could hold the knife properly.

Lezon intoned, “By this knife which holds the spirit of a Warrior, I submit to you. I will serve you. I will learn from you. I will fight by your side.” Exhausted by the simple effort, she let the knife down slowly to the bed cover. T’cass quickly recovered the knife and sheathed it. The light turned red moments later.

“I fear that I have stayed too long,” T’cass said, standing up. “I have tired you out. I’ll come by tomorrow. We can talk again. It is good to have speech with someone who understands the nature of Conflict.”

T’cass left the room and waited for the tech to emerge. When she did, T’cass knelt before her, and offered her knife, on the flat of her hand. Confused, the tech said, “What’s this for? What do you want me to do?”

T’cass smiled, ears up at a jaunty angle and said, “That was a gracious thing that you did. It was important to both of us. This is my offer of a favor in return. If you accept, just touch the hilt. What you ask of me, I cannot in honor refuse, except that I may not betray an oath already given.”

Cautiously, the tech, reached out and touched the hilt of T’cass’ big knife. She said softly, “I helped you because I know a little about you. I heard that you were raised as a M’cratt Warrior and that you broke the M’cratt advance for us. There are rumors that you quit the Strategy Board to keep us from blasting planets. You tried to save lives, even in a war.

“That is my work, too. Saving lives, I mean.

“All that I want is for you to come and meet someone with me when I come off shift.”

Later, T’cass and the medi-tech were seated at a table in one of the private dining areas. T’cass said, “You took quite a risk for me back there. If your superiors found out that you had allowed a prisoner, however weak, to handle a knife, you could have been fired at least. I only just realized that I have been unforgivably rude by Clan standards.

“I failed to even ask your name. All that I can say is, I was raised as a Warrior. We earn our names and introduce ourselves by them. If we don’t, then we go by our position and a number, if necessary.

“So … I am T’cass. What is your name?”

That brought a smile from her companion. She raised a claw politely and answered, “I’m M’rel. I have treated enough prisoners to know about the M’cratt naming rules. I don’t like the Clan Central law that takes away their Names and gives them serial numbers.”

Softly, T’cass said, “I don’t like it either, M’rel. That’s why I took advantage of those same laws. They do grant a slave permanent possession of what her Owner gives. I gave her back her Name. She earned it during the Feront Contact/War. I will help her to forge a new Warrior’s Knife, when the time comes, too.”

M’rel saw past the immediate conversation to its root. She reached out and took T’cass’ hand and stroked it gently, saying, “It must be terribly lonely for you. Who, here in Clan Space, could understand the way that you think or even just accept it for different?”

Bleakly, T’cass replied, “The only one that I’ve found so far is in your hospital unit. I think that Lezon understands perfectly.”

M’rel said, “I may not understand fully but I do sympathize. I am curious about something. Your slave. You spent enough in saving her to have bought a small star ship of your own. That is far more than any slave is normally worth.

“Then, you took her submission, there in the hospital. What is the difference between submission and surrender? I gathered, from what I overheard, that it is an important distinction to the M’cratti.”

T’cass thought quietly for a few minutes trying to figure out how to explain the obvious. Dubiously she ventured, “Surrender means give up. Accepting slavery at your opponent’s claws. Submission is to become a student, to learn from another, to fight by their side as a free Warrior.”

M’rel put a paw to her muzzle as she thought through the implications of the distinction. While she was thinking, a new person walked into the dining area. Seeing her, M’rel raised her hand and waived, “K’ress! Over here!”

K’ress was a lean individual with some blast scars visible through her fur. As she seated herself, she took M’rel’s hand in the familiar grip of a lover. K’ress smiled at M’rel and asked, “How was your shift in the regeneration unit?”

M’rel smiled back fondly and replied, “Interesting. That M’cratt 80% regeneration case woke up today.”

K’ress snorted softly, “It’s a remarkable case alright. Why would anybody spend that kind of credit on an enemy?”

“She gave me a Warrior’s Return at K’stall,” said T’cass tartly. “I owed her a life.”

Embarrassed, K’ress lowered her gaze and mumbled, “Sorry. I didn’t know that you were the one who paid all that credit. I should have known that you had a good reason.” She paused, and tilting her head, looked more carefully at T’cass. “Warrior’s Return? I was at K’stall. There were rumors all over, after the battle, about a M’cratt Talon escorting one of our fighters back to a point of safety… That was you?”

“Yes. And that Talon pilot was her. I recognized her Talon during the after battle salvage. The M’cratti assign Talons to specific pilots and they can paint whatever designs they like on them. Besides, after she woke up, she acknowledged doing it.”

M’rel said, “T’cass, that slave of yours is probably the most expensive slave in all of Clan Space. Was it really worth it? You know that she will just try to escape at the first opportunity. All M’cratt slaves do.”

T’cass replied bluntly, “Even if she does escape, yes. It is worth it. I don’t believe that she will ever try to escape, though. No matter what our laws on slavery are, she submitted to me. I will regard her as a free Warrior, voluntarily staying and learning, fighting by my side if necessary.”

K’ress skeptically asked, “Would you really risk arming her?”

T’cass’ eyes flew wide, shocked by the question. When she recovered, she said, “Of course. She is a Warrior. Her submission means that I have to trust her. She has to trust me, too. Student and teacher. That’s what submission is about.”

K’ress turned to M’rel and pointed at T’cass, asking, “Has this one had a psychiatric evaluation?”

M’rel narrowed her eyes and said, “I have been able to observe her for the last five months. T’cass is remarkably sane. If any person in Clan Space can understand M’cratti thought, it is T’cass. She was raised as a M’cratt Warrior and dragged to Clan Space when her mothers were recalled from a diplomatic mission.

“I do trust her. That’s why I brought her here to meet you.”

Hostilely K’ress asked, “Why did you quit the Strategy Board when we started winning this war?”

T’cass looked at her with irritation. “That should be obvious to a kit! Those vicious fools wanted to strike at inhabited planets. That kind of action is against all honor and law. They knew it too, and didn’t care! Biosphere destruction and bombardment of civil populations is indecent! A Warrior’s duty is to protect all life! Even the enemy’s life is to be protected as soon as they surrender or submit!” She slammed the table with an open hand for emphasis.

K’ress was taken aback. “Those were M’cratt worlds prepared to fight to the last kit!”

It was M’rel who answered that accusation. “Did they? After the Treaty Commission’s Feront ships stopped us, what did happen? The news was so quiet on the subject that I took the trouble to search. Those worlds submitted without a fight.”

Puzzled, K’ress asked, “Why would they do that? No world of ours would just surrender.”

M’rel replied again, “I just found the answer to that today. They were asked to submit. They did. Under their rules and laws there is a large difference between Surrender and Submission. We have treated them like conquerors since then. By their understanding, we have broken faith with them.

“After the way that we have treated those worlds, I doubt that any more M’cratt worlds will fall without a fight.”

K’ress paused to ponder what she’d heard and said, “I need to learn more about how M’cratti think. We all do. In this short discussion, I have just learned more about the M’cratt than I did in all my life before this. That’s frightening.”

To the surprise of both M’rel and K’ress, T’cass relaxed and actually smiled at them. “Both of you are my kind of people. We will teach you whatever we can. There will be many opportunities for profitable trade between M’cratt and Clan Space after this war is done.”

They both looked at T’cass skeptically. “We? Who else do you mean besides yourself?”

“Lezon, of course. My slave. She has submitted to me, so we can depend on her. She was a pilot in Lezon Treh K’lass’ wing, so she is one of the best the M’cratti had. I am the other best small ship pilot in Clan Space.”

T’cass speared a claw at K’ress and said, “I got messages delivered by you while you were a courier pilot and I was on the Strategy Board. You were a remarkable pilot too, so I looked into your records.

“Why did you quit power engineering on Capital ships?”

Sardonically, K’ress replied, “The Freedom’s Pride left without me. Something about a superconductor saturation blast during our last engagement.” She pointed at the scars under her fur. “The hospital had to rebuild twenty two percent of me, including my spinal cord from the neck down. Took a while.”

She smiled softly at M’rel and added, “That’s where I met this lovely person. All that we need is to find a third to complete our Triad. Then we can buy a small ship to call home and start a Clan of our own.” She reached out and covered M’rel’s left hand gently with all five fingers and the thumb of her right hand. Her ears were up and alert.

Suddenly K’ress shot a look at M’rel and asked bluntly, “You mean T’cass? Why should we take on a M’cratt Warrior?”

“You heard her,” replied M’rel promptly. “It won’t be long until this war is over. The best opportunities for trade will be in running across the M’cratti border. We will need someone who understands how they think so that we don’t mess up. This bit of misunderstanding about submission is almost certainly only the nucleus of the comet. There’s lots more that is certain to be as tricky for us. For instance, there may be other words that we both think that we understand, yet may mean different things in our two cultures.

“Think, My Dear. Even a small cargo ship could make a great deal of credit if it is one of the few that avoid such pitfalls.”

Suddenly more interested, K’ress looked T’cass over more carefully. Frankly, she asked, “What can you bring to our triad besides the most expensive slave in all Clan Space?”

T’cass looked straight back and replied, “I don’t know if I want to join you yet. I still have resources. I lease Lezon Treh K’lass’ Talon for public viewing. If I sell it, it will generate a considerable sum. I can both fly and maintain small ships, as can you. In addition, I know how to correctly manage Conflict. With due respect, you do not. The management of Conflict is the basis of all M’cratti transactions, not just war.

“If we do join you, let Lezon guide you in the selection of a vessel as soon as she is able. You will not be sorry if you do.”

******

Lezon was still pondering the thing that she had done. She had never Submitted to another before, beyond her service to the Empress Triad. At least, T’cass knew more than the forms. She was a true Warrior.

The one thing that Lezon was certain of was that a graduate of K’lass’ School of All Conflict had to have true honor. That made everything else possible. Like Submission. Lezon was still curious about how a Warrior came to be on the Clan side. Sympathetically, she thought how lonely such a Warrior must be.

That there were decent people in Clan Space was a certainty. The medi-tech who had clearly risked her valuable work to help with the Submission was certainly one.

The room door opened. It was the tech. She came hesitantly forward and said, “I have only learned something about M’cratti manners, last night. My name is M’rel. I have heard that your Name is Lezon. May I call you by that Name?”

Lezon raised a claw politely and answered, “After meeting you yesterday, I would be honored if you did. I gather that as a slave, my only claim to the Name that I earned is that my owner returned it to me.”

M’rel smiled at Lezon and replied, “Since T’cass put your Name on your Ident chip, it is official. Your registry number is there by law but since your name is registered too, the number can only be used by officials in a criminal action.”

Lezon tried to smile. Her new body was still strange in some ways and so she asked, “Does my smile show properly? I am glad to hear that news.”

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#CAPTURED BY THE CLANS #Part 2 of 3 #Science Fiction #Written by Glen Ten-Eyck (De writer)

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