“But that’s the whole point, sir,” Vorgens insisted, his voice still soft. “The tactical situation here is overshadowed by the strategic importance of your decision. If the defeat of the Mobile Force is to be the signal for a general uprising of the Komani clans, then strategically you must withdraw and decline combat. You can’t afford running the risk of a defeat at this time and place.”
“Are you lecturing me on military concepts?” Aikens got up slowly from his chair and his voice rose in pitch”My men can whip any horde of undisciplined barbarians, I don’t care what their numbers are!”
“But the Komani are not undisciplined. They’re as well trained as any troops in the galaxy. And the odds are overwhelmingly against you. If you fight here you will be wiped out. Your defeat will touch off a war of terrible proportions.”
Aikens thundered, “I’ve served this Empire for more years than you’ve known, and on more planets than I care to remember, and I’ve never heard such panicked, sickening, fear-ridden talk in my life. If you think for one minute that I’ll be scared into a withdrawal that’ll be, at best, a humiliation to our uniforms, and might possibly lead to a well-planned ambush …”
“But, sir—”
“But nothing!” Aikens slammed a fist on his desk. “Wake up. Watchman! Just because you’re racially closer to these natives than to real Terrans doesn’t mean that you have to swallow everything they tell you. They’ve fed you a fairy tale. There’s nothing those savages would like better than to see my Force trying to sneak out of this valley. They’d cut us to ribbons between here and the ext range of hills. That priest, and that girl you seem so entranced with—they’re probably waiting for us up in those hills, with guns in their hands, waiting for us and laughing at you! It’s a trap, Watchman. A trap set for a gullible young fool.”