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Humans had encountered Kobolds every time they’d fought Nungiirtok ground forces, but never learned what the relationshipwas between them. The most popular theory was that Kobolds actually were Nungiirtok young, though why the adults might bringjuveniles to a battlefield had never been explained.

Another popular theory was that the Kobolds were pets, or just possibly, the Nungie equivalent of the cybernetic K-9 Corps dogs that human militaries used for tracking, sentrypatrols, or search and rescue.

But he couldn’t imagine the Nungiirtok warriors deferring to animals. Or to children. The relationship, he thought, must bemore complex.

The aliens’ body language, whether representing fear or deep respect, lasted only for a moment. They then straightened up,hinged jaws closing, but both, Gray noticed, kept one stalked eye swiveled to watch the frozen Kobold image.

“This is an image of a Master, yes,” one of the Nungiirtok told him.

“They’re aliens, aren’t they? An entirely different species.”

“We give them life.”

Gray tried to understand. Maybe he was wrong. “They’re your offspring? Your young?”

“No. But we give them life.”

“I don’t understand.”

“They choose us, and we give them life. It has always been so, since before the Nungiirtok race first developed mind and consciousthought.”

“Parasites!” Truitt said over the private channel. “The Tok lords are parasites!”

Gray blinked. “How is that even possible?”

“Admiral, something like forty percent of all terrestrial life is parasitic in one way or another. Why shouldn’t that be the same of exobiological species?”

It made sense, of a sort. Humans had encountered alien parasites before—the giant worms inhabiting the gas-giant living balloonsof the H’rulka; the tiny males living as ectoparasites on the bodies of spider-like female Agletsch; the hive-mind organismdubbed Paramycoplasma subtilis that had shaped and directed Sh’daar history and off-world policy . . .

They choose us, and we give them life.

Okay . . . this was starting to make sense.

But the exact nature of the biological relationship, Gray decided, was unimportant, at least for now.

“These Masters,” he said, addressing the aliens again. “Did they tell you to fight us?”

No answer.

“Did they tell you to go with the Russians?”

“Ruh—seeans . . .”

“Humans, like us . . . but with a different government, a different language. It was Russians who rescued you from Osiris.Their leader was called Oreshkin.”

“There were no lords left on Osiris.”

“So they didn’t order you to surrender?”

“The Nungiirtok do not ‘surrender.’” It sounded uncertain of the word’s meaning.

“It sounds to me,” Gray told the two beings, “like the Tok Iad are using you. They parasitize you in ways I can only imagine.They tell you what to do, who to fight, and in the end they abandoned you on the world of Osiris—”

The reaction was sudden and completely unexpected. Both Nungiirtok hurled themselves forward, their lower jaws snapping outas they slammed the tips into the transparent acrylic. Gray took an inadvertent step back as the two blows hammered at thetransparency with a deafening double bang.

Then again.

And again . . .

“Sir!” one of the Marines yelled. “Behind us!”

The acrylic wall gave way under the assault, part of it shattering, part peeling back as both Nungiirtok tried squeezing through the opening. The Marines closed in front of Gray and opened fire, white plasma searing into the tangle of alien limbs and bodies.

“Don’t—” Gray yelled.

But it was too late. In seconds, both Nungiirtok were reduced to large, charred, lifeless cinders, leaving Gray with verynearly as many questions as he’d had before he’d come here.

But just possibly, he’d learned enough to help them figure out the Nungiirtoks’ relationship with the Russians.

Chapter Sixteen

25 April, 2429

Deep Space

Sol System

1223 hours, FST

The Nungiirtok fleet had advanced slowly after the destruction of that first, unarmed spacecraft or station, spreading outin order to frustrate human attempts to concentrate their forces. The force consisted of eight craft fashioned from planetoids.The command vessel, the Ashtongtok Tah, was the size of a small dwarf planet; the others, moving off to either side, ranged from half that down to the relativelytiny Krestok Nin. They drifted forward slowly, watching the gathering human forces ahead.

The Tok Iad commanding the force was known to others of its kind as 4236 Xavix, and it was worried. The humans had shown themselvesto be formidable opponents over the years, and there were at least sixty of their warships assembling in a loose cloud fiftychag ahead.

It was worried, but not enough to run away.

Opening a channel to the cyborg Tok wired into the ship computers, 4236 Xavix gave the order to attack.

USNA CV Yorktown

Mars Orbit

1224 hours, FST

Captain Laurie Taggart leaned forward in her command chair—as far forward as the chair’s embrace would allow her, at any rate.The targets were moving, deploying into what looked like a combat formation.

“All weapons at the ready, Mr. Mathers,” she told the ship’s combat officer. “I want a salvo of nukes at maximum yield inthe railgun tubes.”

“Aye, aye, Captain.”

She was still trying to get used to the sudden turn of events. Taggart had walked onto the bridge of the USNA Yorktown less than an hour ago. For two years, now, she’d been flying a desk in the intelligence division at the naval HQ facilityon Mars, but then at 0930 this morning she’d been offered the sudden and totally unexpected chance to take command of thestar carrier Yorktown.

Supposedly, she’d been tagged because of her experience commanding the USNA Guadalcanal. Both the Yorktown’s captain and first officer had been off the ship, and HQ wanted the Yorkie on the battle line now.

In fact, she suspected the electronic hand of Konstantin behind the opportunity, which had been offered as a chance to volunteerrather than as orders. She’d accepted, of course—anything to get out from behind that desk!—but Konstantin would have known she would take the offer. The super-AI had been lying lowof late, and she hadn’t heard from it directly, but she thought she recognized Konstantin’s subtle touch.

The Yorktown was a brand-new warship just off the ways, commissioned three months ago and sent to Chiron and back for her shakedown cruise. So far, her bridge crew seemed well trained and well prepared, but it would be the coming combat that would prove that one way or