Star Trek: Typhon Pact: Seize the Fire - By Michael A. Martin Page 0,3

the entire Hegemony would quickly find itself defenseless.”

The oldster was speaking in increasingly eccentric circles. “What are you talking about?” Gog’resssh said, repeating his earlier question in more demanding tones.

“All of the non-warrior castes have established their respective reproduction crèches on multiple worlds all across the Hegemony,” Rreszsesrr said. “But the eggs that nourish and protect you warriors as they grow from blastocyst to hatchling will grow properly only here, on Sazssgrerrn. Nowhere else.”

The notion struck Gog’resssh as entirely preposterous. “Why would the High Command tolerate such a liability?”

“It isn’t as though your superiors have any choice in the matter, First Myrmidon. The environmental requirements of your caste are extremely exacting, much more so than any other caste. Worlds appropriate to the warrior caste’s unique nutritional requirements and gestational vulnerabilities have always been rarer than mammal-gizzards. Even the world upon which our people were believed to have evolved originally is no longer climatically fit to serve as a warrior-caste hatchery.”

Although Gog’resssh found the old scientist’s story incredible, he felt a chill settle deep inside his guts nonetheless. What if this addled ancient’s ravings were true?

“Why would the High Command conceal such a terrible weakness from the rank and file of the warrior caste?”

“Who knows, First Myrmidon? Perhaps they reasoned that a weakness of which no warrior is aware is a weakness that cannot be revealed inadvertently to an enemy.”

Gog’resssh thought that made a certain amount of sense, although it was hard for him to imagine a Gorn warrior worthy of the description revealing a military secret of any kind to an enemy, be it by accident or as a consequence of torture.

And Rreszsesrr’s explanation left behind another vexing question as well.

“Why are you telling me this?” Gog’resssh asked, the scales on his head crests slowly standing up as if in expectation of imminent combat.

Frustratingly, Rreszsesrr still appeared utterly unintimidated. “Because, regardless of your superiors’ decisions, I believe that you . . . need to know.”

“All right,” the warrior said. “But why do I need to know it now? Why did you fail to tell me this story—if indeed it is anything more than merely a story—two local suncircuits ago, when my tour of duty here began?”

Despite the scientist’s pretense of openness, Gog’resssh knew that Rreszsesrr was holding back something else, something crucial. In his own way, the oldster was doling out information on a “need to know” basis himself, just as the Hegemonic High Command that he so clearly enjoyed criticizing had always done.

“Something is happening to Sazssgrerrn’s primary,” the scientist said after a brief pause.

Primary. It took Gog’resssh a moment to understand. “You speak of the sun that shines upon this world.” Why couldn’t technologists ever speak plainly?

“Yes. I have explained to you the long-term variable nature of this star, have I not?”

“You have. I did not understand much of your explanation. But I did gather that the star’s radiation output can change greatly over periods of many millions of suncircuits.”

“It can, First Myrmidon. And we now appear to be very near the threshold of just such a change at the present moment.”

Another interior chill assaulted Gog’resssh; this one began making a slow ascent along the length of his backbone. “I thought that such a thing was highly unlikely.”

“It is. The odds always favor any particular Gorn generation coming and passing in the midst of one of Sazssgrerrn Prime’s eons-long periods of stability. But my measurements are incontrovertible: you and I both have the misfortune of being here when one of the star’s violent transitions is imminent. Our lives stand astride the boundary.”

Gog’resssh slowly shook his great head. “It seems an intractable problem, Doctor. What do you propose I do about it? Do you expect the warrior caste to intimidate the local star into better behavior?”

“Of course not, First Myrmidon,” the oldster said, finally beginning to sound nettled. It was gratifying to break his insufferable equanimity at last. “But I do expect you to inform the rest of your garrison. Very little time remains, and precautions must be taken. You and Second Myrmidon Zegrroz’rh must begin the process of relocating the eggs to the lower levels, where the solar shielding is strongest—”

Gog’resssh cut the oldster off with a wave of his claws. “Eggs are fragile things, even those of the warrior caste. You of all people should understand the risk involved in moving them from the incubation chamber, Doctor.”

The oldster’s weirdly mammalian-looking pupils narrowed even further, giving his eyes an even more disconcerting aspect than before. “I do not