After taking a long draught from its cup, Yuaw Khta said: “I fail to see your point, Voivode Agayan. Regardless of their social discipline and cohesion, the humans are still primitives.”
He made a small waving gesture, which encompassed the entirety of the ship. “Even if they managed—somehow—to seize the ship, they would have no way to fly it anywhere.”
“Unless they coerced the Pilot,” retorted Agayan. The Voivode spread both his forelimb clusters, to give emphasis to his next words. “Unlike you, Yuaw Khta, I have personal experience with the humans. I was their Commander, for a time, before my promotion to Voivode. As you may or may not know, I passed through the Cacique ranks faster than any Guildmaster on the record. Some of that unprecedented speed in climbing through the ranks, of course, was due—”
He interlaced his finger-clusters modestly.
“—to my own ability. But every Commander of the human sepoys enjoyed rapid promotion. The humans were, far and away, the best sepoy troops the Guild has ever had. They were invariably successful in their campaigns, and did not even suffer heavy casualties.”
He took a drink from his tumbler. “As these things go,” he concluded. “In time, of course, their numbers would have declined to the point where they would have been useless. But there were many, many campaigns which the Guild would have profited from before their liquidation was necessary.”
“So?” demanded Yuaw Khta.
Agayan could not control the agitated flexing of his hindlimb clusters, he was so aggravated. But he managed to maintain a calm voice.
“So? What do you think accounts for the human success, Investigator? It was not simple physical prowess, I can assure you!”
The Voivode pointed to the Gha commander. “This one—or any of its fellows—could easily defeat a human in single combat. Several of them at once, in fact. But I have no doubt whatsoever that on a field of battle, matched with equivalent weapons, the humans could have defeated a Gha army.”
The Investigator was still not convinced.
“Gha are stupid,” it grumbled. “Everyone knows that. I am prepared to admit that the humans were unusually intelligent, for a slave race, but—”
The Voivode had had enough. “Do you have any alternative explanation?” he demanded.
The Investigator was silent.
“In that case,” stated Agayan firmly, “I now exercise my command prerogatives. If the humans seized their transport vessel, and coerced the Pilot into operating the craft, their most likely destination would have been their original home. Their native planet. Accordingly, this ship will proceed to that same planet. If the humans are there, we will destroy them. This vessel is far better armed that any troop transport.”
“Their native planet?” exploded the Investigator. “That’s ridiculous! The humans were in Guild service longer—far longer—than any other sepoy troops. They underwent tens and tens of Stasis episodes. It must be hundreds—thousands—of years since their initial recruitment. I doubt if we even have a record of—”
“The record will exist,” stated Agayan firmly. “I have instructed the Pilot to check. You underestimate the care with which the Guild—”
He was interrupted by the appearance of the Pilot herself in the chamber.
“Ah!” he exclaimed. “I presume you have finished your examination of the records?”
“Yes, Guild Voivode.” The Pilot belonged to a spindle-shaped species which found bowing impossible, so she indicated her respect by darkening her purple skin.
“The results?”
“The human planet—there is no name for it, beyond the catalog number—is only two hundred and twelve light years distant. The humans were recruited slightly over two thousand Guild years ago.”
Agayan turned triumphantly to Yuaw Khta.
“You see, Investigator?” He waved a finger-cluster at the Pilot, dismissing her. To his surprise, the Pilot remained planted on her footskirt.
“There is something else, Guild Voivode.”
“Yes?”
“I used a broad-range program in my search, and it brought up all information concerning this planet. In addition to the original sepoy records, there is also a significant—perhaps significant—item of meteorological data.”
Agayan’s finger-clusters began to flex. “What is the point of this?” he demanded.
The Pilot turned a very dark purple, in her attempt to placate the Voivode’s rising irritation.
“The Federation’s Meteorological Survey has been paying close attention to that region of the galaxy. A Transit storm has been moving down that spiral arm for many thousands of Guild years. The human planet and its environs were cut off from all Transport nodes shortly after the sepoys were recruited. The nodes were only reestablished two hundred Guild years ago.”