Темное, кривое зеркало. Том 3 : След на песке.(ЛП)

Warleader G'Sten of the Narn flagship Pride of the Kha'Rilooked around at the rest of his bridge crew. They all looked so young. They were probably older than he had been when he had begun this war against the Centauri.

They were nearly there. Centauri Prime, the dream he had been chasing for so long. He might have succeeded during the last war, but the attack on Gorash had been too bloody and had taken too much out of the fleet. G'Sten had never been more disappointed than when he had surveyed his fleet and realised they were not strong enough to go for the homeworld. He had turned his back and left, not wanting to see the planet and be unable to grasp it.

This time, this war, he was ready. Victory had followed victory, and he could total the number of worlds taken from the Centauri. It was a most pleasing figure. Gorash 7, Ragesh 3, Frallus 9…. And now Centauri Prime itself.

He was an old man now, and he could retire after this. He would have done his part for the future of his race. They would remember him, maybe even build a statue to him in G'Khamazad. He would like that.

"There's a message for you, Warleader," said his aide, and he looked up. "It's from the Kha'Ri."

"Come to congratulate us, eh?" he asked, smiling — but it was a false smile and false good humour. He had been delayed enough already in the course of this war. Without the unnecessary hesitations and hold-ups he could have taken Centauri Prime months ago. He would not let them deny him this chance again. He knew full well he would not get another one.

"Put them through," he continued. "Here."

"Warleader…. wouldn't you rather…. take it in private?" G'Sten frowned. The aide was new, brought in to replace his former assistant, G'Lorn. He had requested a chance to captain his own ship, and G'Sten had had to agree. He could not deny G'Lorn this chance for glory, a chance that would never come again.

"Anything they wish to say to me, they may say to my soldiers," he replied. The aide nodded, and began patching through the signal. G'Lorn would have known better than to ask that question. He had understood his Warleader well.

"Maybe I'm getting old," he muttered irritably to himself. There was no 'maybe' about it. He was old. He remembered when he had been in the Resistance, with old M'Sela. He had taunted the old man about going off to bed and leaving war to the younger men. He was now six years older than M'Sela had been when he had died, fighting six Imperial Guards at Na'Mirammar. Five of them had gone into death with him.

The viewscreen came on to reveal the face of H'Klo, one of the rising stars in the Kha'Ri. He was young, arrogant, and had actually served in the army, acting with distinction in the previous war. H'Klo had been decorated after Shi, he seemed to remember.

"What is your status, Warleader?" he asked.

"We will be at Centauri Prime by just after midday tomorrow," he replied. "Our probes are picking up details of their defences as we speak."

"Can you defeat them?"

"Yes," he replied simply. "It will in all likelihood be harder than we had anticipated. I think all available ships have been pulled from other postings to defend their homeworld. We outnumber them, though. I have confidence we will triumph."

"The people are expecting an easy victory," H'Klo warned.

"Then the people are fools!" G'Sten snapped back. "It would have been an easy victory six months ago. But I believe there has been a change in leadership among the Centauri. The positioning of their defences indicates that Marrago has regained influence and power. He is there."

"You are sure?"

"We have fought each other for over ten years, Councillor. I am sure."

"How does that change things?"

"Marrago has a habit of skilful escapes. This time however he has nowhere to escape to. I will defeat him."

"I have every confidence in you, Warleader. And…. for what it is worth, had I been able to, I would have ensured you were able to attack Centauri Prime six months ago. I assure you, Warleader, such bureaucratic delays will not happen again."

"I am glad to hear that," he replied. "But I assure you, Councillor. The war will end tomorrow."

"The entire people of Narn have faith in you, Warleader. H'Mari be with you."

G'Sten nodded, smiling slightly at H'Klo's choice of prophet. H'Mari had been a warrior in his day, several hundred years before G'Quan. Many soldiers had once adopted his worship, but it had fallen out of favour with the Occupation. It was good to see a resurgence in belief.

Or perhaps it was a bad omen.

Either way it spoke of the future, and the future he had always wanted for his people was but a day away.

* * *

There was something about a pub. Something warm and comforting, a place where someone could walk inside, leave behind all the cares and problems of life, and sit and be at peace, in company or not as the mood took them.