Finally, when we had exhausted our imagination finding new drills, we jury-rigged nets on our own without the assistance of the Technicians and set the Warriors to work running down warm-bloods with their skimmers to supplement the food stores. The Technicians’ team was openly scornful of our net design, but it worked.
However, despite all our efforts, the Warriors had an unaccustomed surplus of inactive time at their disposal. Much of this was spent in idle conversation, a pastime hitherto unheard of in the Warriors. The Warriors from the New Hatching seemed particularly susceptible to this. I chanced to overhear such a conversation one day.
“The more I think about it,” Hif was saying, “the more it occurs to me that all our training as Warriors, the skimmers, the hand weapons, everything, is futile if not needless. What do you think, Kor?”
Kor was still held in awe by many of the New Hatching, and justifiably so. Not only was she a noted veteran, she still possessed one of the most spectacular sets of combat reflexes in the Empire, despite several generations of selective breeding and genetic experimentation.
“I am a Warrior,” she replied abruptly. “I wasn’t trained to think; I was trained to fight.”
“But Kor,” Sirk persisted, “we’re talking about fighting; or not fighting, to be specific. Surely there are better ways to handle the Insects than direct combat. Chemical or Bacteriological warfare would be so much more effective. The Warriors’ decision to-“
“If you want decisions, talk to one of the Commanders. I’m not trained to make decisions; I’m trained to fight.”