Hal Colebatch - The Man-Kzin Wars 07

This was the critical moment. The admiral could make it very easy for him, or impossibly difficult. “I'm not in favor of any of those choices either, but I think there's a better one. The galaxy is a big place, there's room for warriors to win honor whatever their species. I think we should form an alliance.” Long held his breath.

Tskala considered before answering. “What makes you think they'll agree with that any longer than it takes to mount the next invasion?”

“I think they don't have a choice, any more than we do. If something doesn't change neither race has anything to look forward to but total war and massive devastation, if not extinction. We're supposed to be the flexible, far-thinking ones. We've been lucky so far; let's do something about it before it's too late.”

Tskala snorted. “I don't think being invaded by the most predatory species in the galaxy is lucky.”

Long persisted. “ Angel's Pencil encountering a kzin warship in interstellar space and surviving to warn us. Our completely pacifist society surviving the onslaught of technologically superior warriors. A slaver in stasis four billion years being released at just the right place and time to wreck the fifth invasion force. The Outsiders arriving on We Made It and handing us the hyperdrive. That research team stumbling onto a secret kzin base before they could surprise us when they got the hyperdrive too. Maybe we're even lucky they shook us out of our artificial paradise before the UN became the most unbreakable tyranny ever seen. Every war we've fought with them has turned on an impossible coincidence. How much longer can we count on that?”

Tskala waved an arm, brushing aside his argument. “Good tacticians make their own luck, Major. Coincidences happen all the time—it's commanders who turn them into victory or defeat. You make a formal report on your findings. I'll get you a hearing with the High Command. If you can convince them you can talk to the Secretary General.” He stood up, locking eyes with the intelligence officer. “I'm going to back you up on this. I'll get you in the door. You just make sure they get convinced.”

Long knew luck when he saw it. There could be only one answer. He stood up and saluted. “Yes, sir!”

The UNSN cruiser dropped out of hyperdrive beyond Kzin's larger moon and drifted. A kzin battleship was waiting for her. A shuttle left the massive warcraft's belly and slid gracefully towards the visitor. Her pilot deftly lined up on the cruiser's marking lights and glided into the docking bay.

On the docking bay floor Christopher Long waited, no longer in UNSN gray. He had grown accustomed to the utilitarian uniform and didn't feel entirely comfortable in the formal red jumpsuit he now wore.

The shuttle vented white mist as the crew equalized cabin pressure with the atmosphere in the docking bay. The ramp extended and a single kzin strode down, dark orange with zigzag tiger stripes and matching black paws, ears and tail tip. He wore a royal blue robe with the sigil of the Patriarchy on a sash across his chest. Long came to attention and raked his hand across his face. He snarled in the Hero's Tongue, “I am Christopher Long, emissary to Kzin. May I ask your name?”

The kzin flicked his ears and twitched his tail, offering his massive paw to Long and striving to smile without baring his teeth. He spoke in English with a Wunderland accent.

“I have no name. I am known as Ambassador.”