Star Trek: Typhon Pact: Seize the Fire - By Michael A. Martin Page 0,2

Bringer S’Yahazah on this crècheworld, Doctor. I harbor no misgivings whatsoever about serving here.”

Rreszsesrr regarded him with what looked to the warrior like vague amusement. “Don’t you? Your fellow warriors are fighting and bleeding as we speak, out beyond the Hegemony’s furthest reaches. I know that they are attempting even now to repel an invasion fleet that has so far cut through friend and foe alike as easily as a Gorn landing trooper’s killclaws can gut beached lakeprey.”

“The machine-mammals and their cube vessels,” Gog’resssh said, doing his best to keep his words free of bitterness. He could no longer deny the essential truth of the oldster’s words. I should be out there now in the Great Cyan Starcrèches with my warrior brethren and their new alien allies, he thought. To send those unnatural creatures back to whatever cursed mammalian underworld burrow spawned them.

Rreszsesrr’s head bobbed in affirmation atop his relatively narrow neck. “Yes. The B’orrg. The enemy that you and every other warrior now stationed on this world would rather face right now. It would be far better, would it not? Certainly far preferable to standing guard at what most of you regard as a mere backwater hatchery world.”

Leave it alone, Doctor, Gog’resssh thought, carefully swallowing his emotions to avoid lending any credence to the scientist’s thesis. He momentarily considered demanding an explanation for the oldster’s intimate knowledge of confidential Gorn military matters, but held himself back; Rreszsesrr was a highly accomplished member of the technological caste, so his ability to obtain classified information really shouldn’t have been all that surprising.

“As I have said, I will do my duty to the Hegemony, without question,” Gog’resssh said at length.

“Of that I have no doubt,” Rreszsesrr said even as his forked tongue slithered quickly past his lips twice, a gesture of obvious skepticism. For one who had access to so many sensitive technological secrets, the old scientist had great difficulty concealing unspoken truths; Gog’resssh found him easy to read, even for a tech-caster. “But asking questions is no breach of discipline, Gog’resssh. Perhaps if more of your peers could find it in themselves to make the occasional harmless query, then perhaps the rest of your garrison would be less restive and angry.”

Gog’resssh attempted to look pleasant. “What are you talking about, Doctor?”

“I mean that far too many of you crècheguardians do not appear to appreciate how critically important this hatchery world is to the continued survival and health of the entire Gorn Hegemony.”

“Of course this world is important. All the hatchery worlds are important.” Of course, Gog’resssh found it debatable that the importance of protecting this particular hatchery world was in any way comparable to the urgent need to mobilize every available Gorn warrior against the marauding machine-mammals. “But important or not, when the Hegemonic High Command sends me to protect any such place, I shall do as I am bid.” No matter how many Gorn worlds fall before the machine-mammal onslaught as a consequence.

“I do not doubt the truth of that either, First Myrmidon. You warrior-casters are creatures of duty, and the political caste in particular is quite content to exploit this fact. I am simply wondering whether your superiors ever told you why this particular world is so uniquely important to us as a species.”

Gog’resssh bared a good many of his meticulously sharpened teeth. “The Hegemonic High Command is not obliged to furnish its servants with rationales or explanations for its orders.”

The oldster made a huffing exhalation, perhaps to demonstrate his impatience with the military worldview. Gog’resssh tried not to take offense, reminding himself that the scientist was a product of a nonmilitary caste, which made him infinitely less disciplined by definition.

“Indeed,” Rreszsesrr said. “But explanations are my stock in trade, and the same may be said for most of my crèchebrethren. And an explanation is definitely in order here, no matter what your superiors may have decided to tell you—or, conversely, to withhold from you.”

Gog’resssh allowed his nostrils to flare and bared several more of his very sharpest teeth. “You would dare to question the wisdom of the upper echelons of the warrior caste?”

“I do not answer to any echelon of the warrior caste, my good young fellow,” Rreszsesrr said, taking no apparent notice of Gog’resssh’s rising indignation. “And in my judgment, you need to understand why this world is so especially important—specifically to your caste, if only indirectly to mine. You see, this place requires warrior protection as no other Gorn hatchery planet does. For without this planet,