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Updated: June 8, 2025
"And hope that Mekin will not take vengeance anyhow for the fight the fleet has already put up." The king said heavily, "It will be a very long time before word drifts back that the fleet of Kandar did not die in battle. It may never come. If it does, it will come as a vague rumor, as an idle tale, as absurd gossip about a fleet whose home planet may not even be remembered when the tales are told.
In the space-fight ahead, there would be at least ten Mekinese ships to every one from Kandar. The sally of Kandar's fleet would not be a rush into battle, but an advance into annihilation.
He went to the control room. He checked with the clock. Shortly after the other watch was back at its stations he calculated carefully. The enemy fleet would break out of overdrive short of Kandar, of course. It would have broken out once before, to correct its line and estimate the distance to its destination.
"We will discuss capitulation on behalf of Kandar," said the old man. "Will you give us terms?" He grimaced, and said, aside, to Bors, "I'm speaking for Humphrey as I know he'd speak. But I am ashamed!" There was a pause. It took time for the Pretender's voice to reach the enemy and as long for the reply to come back. The reply was ironic and arrogant and amused.
Each one of the many, many ugly war-machines was sealed in its own cocoon of overdrive-stressed space. Even in the armed transports that carried officials and bureaucrats and experienced police organizers to set up a puppet government on Kandar, there was not the faintest hint of anything that happened outside the individual ship.
Then thunder rolled, and huge shapes plunged in their turn toward the heavens. The space-fleet of Kandar left its native world. It departed in the formation used for space maneuvering, much like the tactical disposition of a column of marching soldiers in doubtful territory. There was a "point" in advance of all the rest, to be the first to detect or be fired on by an enemy.
"Obviously," said the king. "The idea being," Bors went on, "that if I can get enough food for the fleet so it can make a journey of several hundreds of light-years " "It is necessary to go a long way," the king confirmed unhappily. "We need to take the fleet to where Mekin is only a name and Kandar not even that." "Where you will disband the fleet " "Yes."
He stood by while the ship was aimed for Kandar. The young astrogator said enthusiastically, "Prepare for overdrive. Five, four, three " A voice out of a speaker: "Calling Liberty! Calling Liberty! Morgan calling Liberty!" "Hold it," said Bors. He answered the call. Morgan's voice, in a high state of agitation, "Bors! The Sylva's just back! Just broke out!
Offer surrender, as he'd wish it to be done. If they accept, he can carry out his part when he arrives. He'll be here!" The former monarch spoke gently into a beam transmitter. "Calling Mekinese fleet," he said. "Defending fleet calling Mekinese fleet!" In seconds a reply came back. "Mekinese Grand Admiral calling Kandar," the voice answered arrogantly. "What do you want?"
Kandar was about to be taken over by the Mekinese, as his own Tralee had been ten years before, and other planets before that. Mekin was making an empire after an ancient tradition, which scorned the idea of incorporating other worlds into its own governmental system which was appalling but merely made them subjects and satellites and tributaries.
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