He also had good figures on Wyzhnyny losses, give or take a very few. Fourteen battleships, forty-two ships seemingly equivalent to cruisers, and thirty-seven others he'd lumped in his mind as miscellaneous. Proportionately his own losses had been far heavier than the Wyzhnyny's. But by the time he reached rendezvous, in the fringe of the Dinebikeyah System, the new battle units waiting to join him would more than make up his losses. Much more.

The Wyzhnyny, by contrast, would get no replacements. Well, in a sense they would, because most of their warfleet hadn't actually been engaged in this fight. Call them on-site reserves; not potential future reinforcements like his own.

At any rate, his Provos, including Charley, had carried out their mission: they'd learned a lot about the Wyzhnyny and done "substantive damage." The flip side of that being, the Wyzhnyny had learned a lot about his Provos. He'd hardly catch them so unprepared again.

Tomorrow he and Charley would start work on how Charley might control a fleet several times as large as he'd managed today. With a sigh, Soong sat up. He really should nap on the battle experience, before debriefing to War House. Which meant stilling the thoughts that swirled in his consciousness. Buzzing sickbay, he arranged for a potent sleeping pill, then buzzed Ophelia Kennah. Let Charley sleep as long as he needed, he told her. A few extra hours shouldn't seriously dislocate War House.

Wyzhnyny Addendum

Grand Admiral Quanshuk had gathered himself sufficiently to lead Rear Admiral Tualurog and Chief Scholar Qonits to his quarters. As always, his orderly had made the bed, cleared and washed the counter, put things away… Only his desk was as it had been, the orderly being forbidden to touch it.

The three high-ranking Wyzhnyny stepped inside. Quanshuk closed the door behind them, then went to his desk and triggered the recording system, before stepping to his small bar. "Admiral Tualurog, what is your pleasure?"

The rear admiral named it, a product unadorned with flavorings. A fighting man's taste. Quanshuk poured two of them, the second for himself, then looked at Qonits. "The usual?"

"If you please, Grand Admiral."

Quanshuk poured him a non-alcoholic beverage. "We have finally met resistance," he said, "and I did not much care for it. They stung us sorely. But we have learned from it." He drummed clawed fingertips on the bartop.

Tualurog grunted. "The humans are cowards, afraid to stand and fight."

"It served them well," Qonits said offhandedly. "In ancient times our ancestors used hit-and-run attacks. It enabled them to survive, and eventually prevail."

Tualurog scowled. In his opinion, Quanshuk greatly overrated his chief scholar. Qonits is high aristocracy, he told himself, and Quanshuk, being a snob, gives his words too much weight. Back in the empire, scholars were listened to for their knowledge, not their advice. But here the empire was beyond reach, and they were in the process of establishing a new empire. Which needed to maintain the integrity and honor that had made the old one great. In time it might prove necessary to take steps.

Quanshuk sipped, then sipped again. "What have we learned today, Tualurog?" he asked.

"One, that we must take nothing for granted. The enemy may strike when least expected. Two, in the future we must emerge and muster well out in the cometary cloud. At a distance from which our emergence waves will be too attenuated to read from the planets. Allowing us to form battle formations without disturbance. And three, we must take and hold the initiative whenever we detect the enemy."

Quanshuk nodded. "The first is self-evident. The second will slow our progress severely, but I will keep it in mind. As for the third-prepare a list of specific measures to be taken. In doing so, assume we will continue to re-form in the inner fringe. And let me know of any troublesome aspects that arise."

He turned to Qonits. "What do you have to say, Chief Scholar?"

Qonits bowed, bending forelegs and torso. "Grand Admiral, we need to review and revise our tactics in general. In past wars, fleets have tended to meet in close combat, sometimes no more than a mile apart, to pour war beams and torpedos at each other until one breaks. But it seems the humans do not fight that way."

Quanshuk's lids half closed, hooding his yellow eyes. "That is not necessarily so," he said. "This time we met only a small force. Their version of skirmishers perhaps, sent to test us. When we meet their main force, its situation and tactics may be different."

He paused, sipping again, not voicing the rest of his thought: that when they met next, the humans might have the advantage of numbers. So vast an empire! Then it would be to the humans' advantage to stand and slug.

"Nonetheless," he continued, "you are right. We must review our tactics, and be prepared to counter such hit-and-run attacks. Or use them if we are ever at a numerical disadvantage."

He looked at Tualurog. "Admiral, I leave it to you, to you and shipsmind, to review our tactics and recommend changes. I also want procedures for reorganizing formations more quickly after emergence. We need to provide a better-coordinated response." He turned back to Qonits then. "Chief Scholar, I want you to rethink everything we do. And have shipsmind make a complete analysis of human psychology, in the light of their language, and of their tactics to date."

A sigh hissed from the grand admiral's lipless mouth. "And now," he said, "you are both dismissed."

The two Wyzhnyny nobles ignored each other as they left. Analyze human psychology! Tualurog thought. What idiocy! We need to kill them, not analyze them.

Analyze them, thought Qonits. I should have done that earlier. In fact, he realized, he had analyzed them to a degree, in conjunction with improving the translation program. But today had made it much more urgent.

David and Yukiko had been anticipating Qonits' arrival-his or someone's. Earlier they'd jumped half out of their skins at the battle alarm, and twice swallowed their hearts when the Wyzhnyny flagship had been jarred by torpedo strikes. Meanwhile, the apparent firefight might have changed their situation. They might not be as well treated after this.

But Qonits knocked and identified himself as usual. "Come in!" they called, almost in unison.

Had Qonits been better able to read the nuances in human voices, he might have recognized relief. He entered, his bodyguards with blasters at port arms. So far, so good, David thought. To his eyes, Qonits seemed normal.

"Good day, humans," said the chief scholar. It had become his usual greeting. "I am sure you noticed the-uproar? The uproar earlier."

"It would have been impossible not to," David answered. "What happened?"

"Can you not guess?"

"There must have been a fight. Between your fleet and some of our warships. It was to be expected." Actually, only when it happened had he and Yukiko realized how little they'd expected it.

"What do you know about your people's warships?" Qonits asked.

This time Yukiko answered. "Very little. We are not of the soldier or spacer classes. Perhaps captives from one of them could tell you something."

"But you know about ships."

"Not warships," David said. "Not weapon systems."

Probably, Qonits told himself, they actually are poorly informed on warfare. They'd have some general knowledge of it, but clearly they were not of the warrior gender. Or "class" as they called it. He could not imagine people like these carrying out so daring and fierce an attack. I may know more about their warships and tactics than they do.