Old political rivalries in play, then, Aille thought, rival out-of-date factions. Such considerations had no place in this new order. “Humans have much more important things to worry about now,” he said, “than the outcome of some ancient war. The Ekhat—”
“Yeah, yeah.” Tully raised a hand. “I’ve heard it before. Hell, we all have. ‘The Ekhat are coming and we have to get ready.’ ”
Yaut bristled at Tully’s dismissive tone, but Aille stepped between the two, preferring to handle the incident himself. “The Ekhat are indeed coming,” he said softly, his whiskers quivering with restraint. “If you had seen them, experienced firsthand what they do to alien lifeforms, you would not say their name so casually.”
“So they’ll attack us, will they?” Tully seemed unaware of Yaut’s rising anger. “Kill our families, bomb our cities, take away our freedom. How is that any different from you Jao? And who knows? Maybe these Ekhat will help us if we help them. They say ‘The enemy of my enemy is my friend.’ ”
The phrase had the ring of antiquity, as though it had been much used down through the generations. No wonder Terrans did so poorly when it came to fostering alliances. “The Jao have a different saying.” He paused, seeking to translate it accurately. ” ‘Do not come between two enemies, for they will surely crush you in their eagerness to annihilate one another.’ ”
Tully’s face reddened in that peculiar way Aille was coming to associate with distress. Baffled, he studied the human’s angles for clues, wondering if he would be forced to put the man down after all. Tully was affiliated with this disruptive outlaw clan called the “Resistance,” that much was clear. But if he could bend him to Jao rule, make him see that association was his only viable option, then Aille might be able to deal with all the rest on this world who remained intractable and know how to bind them to the Jao cause before it was too late.
Silence hung in the stuffy room until Kralik cleared his throat. “As Tully said, there may be a few protesters, sir,” he said, “but when you know us better, you’ll understand that humans never agree about anything a hundred percent. Even if the Jao decided to leave tomorrow, someone somewhere would protest. It’s just our nature.”
“Such divisiveness and devotion to self interest is why your kind have been conquered,” Yaut said. “If you had stood together, you might have held this world against us. Do not ever forget that.”
Kralik glanced at Tully, then nodded, and for a moment, Aille read utter fury in the lines of Tully’s body, as though he were on the edge of losing control and attacking the other man. Yaut’s ears flattened as he too picked up the insinuation and readied himself for response. Kralik, on the other hand, seemed almost relaxed, as if he had nothing to fear from Tully. Aille suspected the older man was a much more capable hand-to-hand combatant than Tully—and knew it.
Apparently Tully had the same assessment, for he turned away abruptly and moved as far away as he could while staying in the room. He stared out a window, one fist clenched. His heartward fist, Aille noted, the one whose wrist was banded by the locator. Tully’s other hand rubbed over the device under his sleeve.
Kralik shook his head, slightly. It seemed to be a subtle indication of disapproval, but Aille could not determine if the disapproval was of Tully himself or something involving his training.
By now, Aille was quite impressed with the human general’s capability. Yaut, too, it seemed.
“His training is not yet complete,” the fraghta said. “He will either improve his manners or die. I do not care which.”
“Yes, sir,” Kralik said, “I can see that.”