"Did anyone from Intelligence ever talk to you Cats about this?" Jason asked.
"Oh many times. They were quite nice, some could even speak Kilrah, a wondrous and strange thing coming from the mouth of a human. We laughed and told them what we thought."
"And the reports were ignored," Ian said coldly.
"There is a game here," Kirha said, "and you humans are, how do you say it, paki, pawns, for the power play of Jukaga. I think his wish is to use the peace to somehow then blame the Emperor, eliminate him, and then successfully finish the war himself."
"You sound like you don't like Jukaga."
Kirha growled, his fur bristling.
"He and his hrai think my coat not red enough, my blood not thick enough; my own hrai is descendent from the Ragitagha," and as he pronounced his clan name his teeth flashed, his mane standing out so that he appeared to nearly double in size and the crowd backed up a bit, looking at him wide eyed.
"The Ki'ra," and he hissed, spitting on the floor, "if they think they can take the throne under the Baron, they must bring a great Victory. By the blood of my clan I promise you there will be war again and your leaders are fools not to see it."
"Just like Tolwyn figured it," Jason said coldly, and he heard a lot of angry mutters of agreement.
"Tolwyn, that traitor," a voice announced from the back corner of the room, "they should have shot the bastard"
The room went silent, everyone turning to look at the speaker, who sat at a dimly lit table, surrounded by half a dozen men and women who looked around nervously. Jason could tell instantly that they were outsiders and that reaction he found to be curious. He'd been around military types for so long a group of obvious civilians in a military bar seemed strange.
Nearly everyone who frequented the place now were either the few still serving with the fleet or ex-service, easily identified by the gold star of the army, fleet pin, or fouled anchor pin of a Marine on his collar. There was also an unexplainable something else that so easily set the veteran aside, a bit of a distant far away look, from having seen the far reaches of known space, from having fought, and far too often having seen friends die. The six in the corner were not of the club.
The room went quiet for a moment and Jason finally broke the ice.
"It's a free Confederation, go ahead and speak up if you want to," he announced.
A short portly man stood up and came over to the bar, followed a bit nervously by the rest of his group.
"Doctor Torg's the name, he said, "I didn't get yours."
"I didn't give it, but it's Bondarevsky."
"Oh yes," one of the women behind Torg gasped. "I saw the holo about you. Oh, the girl you loved was just so beautiful."
"The actress didn't look anything like her," Jason said quietly.
"But still it was so sad," and she came up to Jason's side and actually touched him on the shoulder and then looked back excitedly at her friends.
Another woman in the group looked at the excited girl and shook her head.
"Say, Lisa, just back off a bit, OK."
"But he's famous, Elaine."
"I don't think he really wants the attention," Elaine replied.
Jason nodded her a thanks and then looked back at Torg.
"You don t like the Admiral, is that it?" Doomsday growled.
Torg looked over at Doomsday and then turned away, ignoring him.
"Do you know how much this war's been costing us?" Torg asked.
"I think so," Jason said quietly.
"Just under eight trillion a year."
"That wasn't the cost I was thinking of," Jason replied slowly, his voice barely a whisper.
"The Baron is right. Didn't you see his interview on the holo yesterday?"
"We kind of missed it, Doomsday interjected, so please enlighten us."
"Why, he said that this war was nothing but a conspiracy on the part of the military to get power and make money. The longer the war dragged on, the more power your admirals, generals, and military suppliers got."
"Oh, Baron Jukaga said this," a pilot from the other side of the bar said, "how interesting, and what about their fleet? I guess they're innocent."
"Why, he admitted that their fleet and military had done the same thing too."
"Was this holo shown in the Empire as well?" Kirha asked.
Torg looked up at him nervously.
"I don't know, I guess so. He said that a full report would soon be issued by the Kilrathi-Human Friendship Committee."
"The what?" several patrons of the bar asked in unison.
"Why, it's just a wonderful idea," the excited girl announced as she walked to the far wall to look at the rows of silver mugs. "Doctor Torg is a member of the committee, he's even met the Baron."
"The Baron is organizing a friendship committee that will provide for peaceful exchanges between our peoples," Torg said. "I think he's really quite sensitive to our culture, to a tolerance for multicultural diversity in the universe, and the rights of indigenous peoples of all races to live in peace. I've even arranged for him to speak at my university on Earth about his understanding of our literature and how to strengthen our ties of peace."
"Just wonderful. I can't wait to attend," Doomsday said, the sarcasm dripping in his voice.
"I think you're being too narrow minded in all of this," Torg announced, looking at Doomsday and at the rest of the patrons who were shaking their heads.
"Narrow minded. I hung my hide out on the line for over fifteen years with the fleet and you're saying I'm narrow minded?" Doomsday snapped.
"That's the problem with military types like you," Torg replied with a superior disdain. "You forget to look at the broader issues. This war was a lot more complicated than kill or be killed. You military types just don't see the big picture, that's always been a problem throughout history. I have my doctorate in sociology, I've made a study of this war and the conspiracy of a number of people to keep it going."
"Say, I like these mugs up here," the woman who had been talking to Jason announced, going up to the wall and taking one down. The bar went silent.
"Especially the ones with the gold handle. How can I get one?"
"You get killed in action, that's how. Gallagher gilds the handle of the mug when he hears that the owner bought a permanent piece of space," Jason said quietly, and the woman looked at him wide eyed and then turned pale.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't know."
"That's all right," Jason replied softly.
She came back to Torg's side.
"Dave, maybe we should go."
"Just a minute, Lisa."
Come on, I think we've interfered enough here." Torg ignored her.
"Listen, pilot, I think I know a bit more about the complexity of this than you do. As a professor it's been my job to study and interpret these types of issues," Torg said. "Just because you got a service pin doesn't mean you own the Confederation. Remember the war's over, friend, so get off the taxpayers back, get a real job, and get a life."
Several chairs were kicked over and Jason held up his hand as if signaling his friends not to do anything.
"Listen, buddy," Jason replied. "You heard what Kirha said. This whole thing is a sham. The Baron's talking us into laying our necks on the chopping block and he'll be back with the axe. In fact I think some people in this government are so stupid they're even helping him sharpen the blade and drawing the line on our necks for us, and you'll be there to help them.
"Are you saying that President Rodham and I are traitors?"
"No, just stupid."
"If there's a traitor around it's you and people like you," Torg snapped. "It's time to shut the hell up and get behind the government. Those who disagree now with Rodham are traitors.
"I was never behind our government," Jason replied. "I was out in front of it, laying my hide on the line. Maybe you people back here on Earth have forgotten what a real gut-busting war is all about. Yeah, you've paid your taxes for it, bo
ught your war bonds, and lord knows sent enough of your sons and daughters off to die in it.
"You're damn straight," Torg replied, "my wife's brother got killed in it, and more than one of my students, and for what?"
"For what? Listen, buddy, out on the frontier, on the colonial worlds we damn well knew for what. We saw it up front and up close. We knew that if the Kilrathi ever got through the thin line of fighters and carriers our worlds could be scorched to a cinder. I saw enough worlds like that. You folks back here on Earth maybe have forgotten that."
"Not all of us," Elaine interjected. "I want peace, and I'd like to believe the Baron, but I can understand what you're saying, Captain."
"It's Jason."
She smiled and Jason could sense Torg bristling that someone in his entourage was siding with the enemy.
"Then if you want war so damn much, why are you drinking with this Kilrathi?"
Jason started to laugh.
"You just don't get it, do you?"
"Listen, doc," a pilot said, coming up to join the argument. "If I had met this Kilrathi in a fight, him and me out there in the middle of it, I'd have killed him without a second thought and I bet he'd have done the same to me."
Kirha grinned and nodded.
"But that's my duty and it was his duty. I can hate his Empire, I can hate what it does, but I can tell you this, at least the Cats serving in the fleet, the pilots the crews of the ships usually fought honorably. Imperial legion assault troops, now they're a different breed, but not him, at least I hope not."
"I was with the fleet," Kirha announced proudly.
The pilot nodded.
"And I respect him. At least he shared the same things I did, the fear, the months of waiting, the moments of sheer terror. I have more in common with him than I do with armchair philosophers like you who think you know about war. You professor types kill me. You think just because you get that Ph. D. you're God almighty and everyone is supposed to kneel and call you doctor. Some of the biggest fools I ever met when it came to war and politics I usually found back in the classrooms. You fill your students' minds with a bunch of crap about a world you don't even understand. You don't have a clue as to just how nasty the real universe is, and then you attack those who are protecting you from the darkness that would rip your guts out if it had the chance."
"You're just another ignorant military brute," Torg sneered.
The pilot snapped.
"I spent four years at the Fleet Academy and six years in advanced training. I have the equal of a doctorate in aerospace engineering and nine years of combat tours," the pilot snapped. "As for this Kirha, I'll buy him a drink anytime. As for you, the damn thing is I'll die defending you when this war starts again, and that kind of makes me want to puke right now."
Torg hesitated for a second, unable to reply.
"Let's get out of here," Torg finally announced, looking back to his friends. "There's just no sense in arguing with people like this."
"What do you mean people like this?" Ian interjected.
"You know what I mean."
"No, enlighten me."
"War mongers, that's what you are. You get your kicks out of it, and then live high on the hog, taking your hundred a week pension out of the taxpayers like me. If I had my way, we'd have ended this war years ago and then spent the money for things that really count and not waste it on your high tech war toys that are good for nothing but killing."
"I thought freedom was worth something," Doomsday interjected "Enough of my friends died for it. Enough of my friends died so you could come here and play tourist and speak your piece. That's the problem with people like you. You forget all too quickly just how expensive freedom really is and then curse at the very people who gave it to you. No wonder I'm always depressed," and he turned away.
"Now I know where I've heard your name," Torg snapped, ignoring Doomsday and looking back at Jason. "It wasn't that holo movie, it's that you're one of Admiral Tolwyn's hangers-on. He's just the type I'm talking about and he got exactly what he deserved. In fact I agree with the Baron, he should have been executed."
Even as he finished speaking he realized he had overstepped his bounds. Jason stood up and Ian put out his hand to restrain him. The bar went as silent as a tomb.
Torg backed away a step.
"Come on, let's get out of here," he snapped, trying to exit with a display of bravado and contempt and failing miserably.
"He turned and headed for the door and then looked back nervously over his shoulder.
"Elaine."
"Go on, Torg, just get out of here. Haven't you done enough already?"
Torg quickly went out the door and then started talking loudly again, denouncing Tolwyn and the military to his followers.
Jason turned back to the bar as Elaine came up to his side.
"I'm sorry, Jason."
"Why don't you just go, he whispered, trying to control the anger in his voice.
"Jason," and she touched him on the shoulder.
He looked over at her, shrugging his shoulder so that she drew her hand away.
"He's a jerk," she said
"I'd call him something else," Kirha said, and she smiled.
"Listen, Jason. There's always some people like him around."
"Well, he sure seemed like one of your friends."
She laughed softly.
"Like hell. He's a professor on some stupid committee that's supposed to look at turning over some of the bases here on the moon to civilian use. I'm up here on assignment to cover it."
"A reporter?"
"Yeah, a writer of sorts, my magazine wants me to do a story on the project. That's how I wound up with him this afternoon."
"Oh great, another member of the press," Doomsday mumbled.
She laughed
"We're not all idiots," she replied, "and what you heard from Torg isn't what most people think. Sure, we want peace, but most of us, myself included, are still suspicious of this whole thing. And I'll tell you this, you might have your idiots like Torg ranting and raving on some campus and boring the hell out of his students but he's a joke to anyone with real sense. Nine out of ten people are damn proud of you. My older brother put in two tours with the Marines till he got invalided out and I'm proud of him. Ordinary folks aren't big on talking about it, but they feel it inside," and as she spoke tears came to her eyes.
"Well, the way the papers and holo stations report it, it doesn't seem that way," Jason said
"You know and I know the full story never really gets told, and didn't your mother ever tell you don't believe everything you read?"
He laughed softly.
"As a matter of fact, she did."
Elaine smiled.
"Look, I've got to go," she said and then fumbled in the bag over her shoulder. She pulled out a card, scribbled a number on the back of it and handed it to him.
"That's my phone number while I'm out on assignment, and the card's my business office. I'll be up here for a couple of more days, maybe we can get together for a drink."
"I'd make a great story, is that it? Ex-hero, what is he doing now?"
"Don't be so defensive," she said quietly. "It's not that at all."
"A pick up then, is that it?"
"You wish," she laughed. "No, just being a friend. That jerk really embarrassed me. Most all of us are damned grateful for what all of you did in the war. A lot of us lost people we know. If we're buying the peace thing its because we just want the damn thing to stop. The offer's just being a friend, nothing more."
She looked at him and smiled.
"Honestly."
"You know we want it to end too," Jason replied, "but we want it to stop after we know it's really over, and that we or our kids after us don't have to go back out and fight it all over again. '
She nodded in reply.
"Just a friendly gesture on my part, no strings attached. OK?" She extended her hand.
"OK," and he smiled softly.
&nb
sp; She shook his hand and turned to leave and then hesitated, looking up at Kirha.
"So you really think its a trap?"
Kirha nodded.
She sighed and left the bar.
Shaking his head Jason watched as she headed out into the main corridor and disappeared around the corner. He had to admit she certainly was attractive, he always did have a thing for very slender brunettes. But then the flash memory of Svetlana hit him and all the old pain came back again. He folded her card up and pushed it under the coaster for his beer. The whole thing with Svetlana was still too close for him to want to even make a try at getting involved again.
"Think what that professor guy said is for real?" the bartender asked
"If so you'd better learn how to serve Vak'qu, because many of my former comrades will be drinking in this place once the next war is over," Kirha growled.
"What the hell is that?"
"It makes what you call single malt scotch look like bak."
"Bak?"
Kirha and Ian laughed
"It has something to do with old diapers, Ian cut in. "Let's just say Vak'qu will burn a hole right through durasteel."
"Hey, look what just dragged in," Doomsday announced and to the shock of everyone he leaped from his seat and went up to greet a short, almost baby-faced pilot coming through the door.
"Lone Wolf Tolwyn," Jason shouted and went up to join Doomsday in a round of backslapping.
At the name Tolwyn the other pilots and ex-service crowd in the bar got up and gathered around him.
"How's the old man taking it?" and the question was shouted a dozen or more times as Kevin made his way up to the bar and allowed Doomsday to buy his "old life saving buddy," a drink.
"It's been tough on him," Kevin announced quietly. "He's retired to the family estate out on the Shetland Islands. At least out there the press can't get at him."
Kevin chatted with the crowd for several minutes and then caught Jason's eye and motioned for him to break away from the group.
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