CHAPTER TWENTY

x

x

Vukar Tag

Kilrathi space

When compared with other planets, even those within the Kilrathi sphere of influence, Vukar Tag seemed to hold little value. It was little more than a giant ball of dust, with a relatively flat surface, hardly any mountains or valleys, and only a handful of animal life. It was located towards the edge of Kilrathi territory, far from the glittering jewel of Kilrah, or the fertile orb of Ghorah Khar.

However, to the Kiranka family, it held a certain emotional significance for them. The former Empress Graknala had made her home here long ago, and the palace she had erected remained the only structure on the surface. The current Emperor remembered the times he had spent there during his youth, playing under his mother's watchful eye.

He also knew of the silent contempt that was whispered amongst the nobles of the other clans; how Graknala was believed to have been of low blood, and her only claim to her mate, the Emperor's father, had been one of mere attractiveness. Even now, the ruling monarch bristled at the thought of his mother being referred to with such scorn.

But that was not the important issue at the moment. No, he would have to deal with something more important. He would have to deal with the unexpected failing of his desired heir. The one he had entrusted to lead the Sivar-Eshrad. The issue had been one of such great effect that the Emperor had decided not to meet up with his grandson at Kilrah, so as not to display the tattered and badly damaged remnants of the attack fleet at the heart of their Empire. Instead, he had given orders to meet here at Vukar Tag, the ancestral recreation home of their family. Thrakhath had reluctantly agreed, and the significance would not be lost on him.

The Emperor stood on the bridge of his flagship; the steely gaze of both his natural eye and his artificial one surveyed the dusty orb in front of him. He remembered the occasions when his mother took him there to her holiday home, the days he spent hunting the various creatures that had managed to survive its harsh environment. He dimly wondered what she would think of her son if she knew what he had done for their people. How he had set them upon a campaign that could bring the entire galaxy to its knees before the Kilrathi race.

And now, unexpectedly, his beloved grandson had let him down.

As if on cue, the Emperor heard the doors to the bridge open up behind him. From the corner of his vision, he noticed his personal guard tense up slightly. Even though they all knew full well who was approaching the Emperor, these guards had been trained not to let their guard down for even one instant. If experience in the Kilrathi way of life was any lesson, it was that individuals were seldom what they claimed to be. But the ruler knew that his visitor would not attempt anything rash. At least, not against him.

A slight ruffle of fabric indicated that the person had dropped into a kneeling position. "I abase myself before my Emperor," Thrakhath uttered with great humility. Clearly, he knew the folly of his actions, and he had come here knowing full well what could await him. The Emperor allowed himself the faintest ghost of a smile. Yes, his grandson would indeed make a fine leader someday.

"I will speak with Thrakhath alone," the Emperor commanded simply. Taking their cue, the guards began to file out of the bridge, along with the small number of crew that were stationed there. The bridge was pretty well secured, so there was no reason for any of them to be concerned. And even if they were, the fear of disobeying the Emperor was a far greater concern for them.

Quickly, the Emperor and his grandson were the only ones left on the bridge. The former had never moved from his position of gazing out at Vukar Tag, and the latter remained crouched in submission. It stayed that way for almost a minute; the tension palpable.

"You have failed me, Thrakhath," the Emperor finally said.

"I have, my Lord," his grandson uttered, offering no form of resistance whatsoever.

"I entrusted you with a great and noble task; overseeing the Sivar-Eshrad. And for a while, you performed this task admirably. Many a victim had their lives offered up to Sivar. I should know; I have read the reports." He paused for a while, then slightly turned his head to the right, allowing his natural eye to spot Thrakhath in his peripheral vision. "And then all of a sudden, our enemies massed their forces together and launched an attack. You put up an impressive fight, but in the end, you fled back here with your tail between your legs."

Thrakhath drew in a shaky breath. "My Lord, I assure you, the enemy attacked us in great numbers, and they caught us by surprise. If we had not escaped, then surely we would have perished."

"Indeed," the Emperor mused with a hum. "I have looked through the reports submitted by those commanders who survived the attack. It seems that the Alliance brought in some assistance from one of their allies, the… Happens Consotrium?"

"Hapan Consortium," Thrakhath supplied.

"Ah, yes. I will admit that 'Happens Consortium' sounds a little bit ridiculous, don't you think?"

Despite his nervousness, Thrakhath permitted himself a faint chuckle. "Yes, I suppose it would, my Lord."

The Emperor nodded and turned back to look out the window. "Anyway, the Alliance and their Hapan cohorts launched a surprise attack, pinning you in on almost all sides, and preventing you from escaping by utilising one of their interdictor vessels, correct?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"So, even though you knew how important the Sivar-Eshrad was, you chose to save what was left of your fleet, and threw all of them in the direction of the interdictor, whereby you disabled it, and allowed your forces to escape. Is that correct?"

Thrakhath did not want to allow himself to feel any form of hope, lest it turn out to be false, but something told him that there was something in his grandfather's voice that sounded something like… admiration?

"Um, yes, my Lord," he managed to respond. "That is correct."

The Emperor hummed in thought for a moment, then turned around to face his grandson. "An admirable strategy, if I do say so myself."

Completely thrown, Thrakhath managed to choke out, "You are not angry about the Eshrad?"

The Emperor sighed. "I will admit that a large part of me is still annoyed by your failure, given that the ceremony is perhaps the most important custom we have. However, the Maxims of Xag also tell us that we must also back away from defeat. You saw that there was little chance of you pulling off a victory in the battle, and so you chose to preserve yourself to fight another day." Thrakhath could not disagree with this logic, as he had thought the exact same thing when he came to the decision to retreat.

"Not only that," the Emperor continued, "but the way in which you escaped is worthy of recognition. The enemy had you trapped with an interdictor, and yet you took your whole fleet and attacked it, disabling its field and allowing you to escape. And I am sure that you took out as many of the enemy as you could."

"Yes, my Lord, I did." Thrakhath finally permitted a feral grin to cross his features.

The Emperor came to stand over him. "Then the taint is not as dark as we once thought. Besides, there will be plenty of opportunities to wash it away." He made simple gesture with his claw for Thrakhath to stand, which he did. "It may be true that I have had others killed for failing me in lesser acts. But the fact is, Thrakhath, you are simply too valuable to throw away like that. And after what happened to your brother, the burden of taking control of our Empire will one day fall to you. Who am I to deny you that right? No, I have seen great things in your futures. Great things, indeed."

Thrakhath had actually been the second of two sons fathered by Gilkarg. His elder brother, Ratha, had been in line before him to become Emperor. But during the battle at Bakura about a year earlier, Ratha had been commanding Kilrathi forces against the Alliance. Towards the end of the skirmish, his fighter had been destroyed, and he had been forced to eject. The feelings of disgrace at being defeated so easily and thoroughly at the beginning of the war had been too much for Ratha, and he had removed his helmet, allowing himself to suffocate in the vacuum. It was this act that allowed Thrakhath to become Gilkarg's sole heir.

The Emperor began a slow, measured pace around the outer platform of the bridge. "By the way, those warriors of ours that you were forced to leave on the surface of Naboo, there will be no rescue?"

"No," Thrakhath confirmed. "They are Kilrathi warriors, and they will fight to the death to bring themselves honour." He paused. "Unless you are willing to send a rescue mission."

"No," the Emperor replied dismissively. "By now, our enemies will have reinforced the planet and will be in the process of hunting those warriors down. There is little need for us to risk any more of our warriors to save a mere handful." He turned to Thrakhath. "Just remember, it is decisions like that which you may be forced to make when you become Emperor. I trust you will be ready?"

"Is the decision I just made not proof enough, my Lord?"

The Emperor grinned. "I suppose it is." He continued with his pacing, Thrakhath matching him step-by-step. "The coming days will test us greatly, grandson. Your father is in the final stages of preparing his attack on Centrepoint Station, and the successful capture of that weapon may very well be what tips the outcome of the war in our favour."

"It is a great gambit my father is playing."

"Indeed it is. However, I wish to discuss with you some of our other projects. Specifically, the ones that you are overseeing at Ghorah Khar and K'tithrak Mang."

Ok, we're getting closer to the climax of this story!

By the way, Vukar Tag is a Kilrathi world that I read about in the tie-in novels.