THE TESTIMONY OF ADMIRAL CILLIAN WHELAN

All right.  Just so everybody is on the same fucking page here, let’s just state the obvious.  The SongLuminants could be completely wiped out with a nasty mollusk-blight.  If I knew where their homeworld was, and if I were capable of getting there, I could turn their ocean into clam chowder.

If I didn’t hate you so much, I’d love you, says Lorcan.

Why would you tell them that? asks Mickey.  He’s pretty agitated, so I can see that he just doesn’t get it.  Mickey is great on tactics, but not so great on long-term thinking.

Cause that’s not what we’re gonna do.

“Oh?” says the fishy-fucker.  “And why not?”

You must think I enjoy genocide, I say.  Ok, three reasons.  Reason 1: We don’t know where the SongLuminant homeworld is.  Reason 2: We can’t leave the Domha’vei – at least, at this time.  Reason 3: and the most important reason – if the SongLuminants were gone, then all the other sentient species who are apparently more advanced than we are because we’re not in the club yet, would suddenly be off the chain.  Now I’m pretty sure that I can protect us here in the Domha’vei although there’s a good chance that we’d get blockaded again.  But you know who would get stomped?  CenGov and the IndWorlds.  Humanity would be crushed before it even got started.  And I’m pretty sure that’s why Clive went off to fuck Claris.  He didn’t want to tell Tara the truth, but he wanted to keep Claris from figuring out why.  Wanna bet he takes her out for ice cream when they’re done?

Is it even good to put this line of reasoning into their heads? asks Ari.

I’m sure they already thought of it, and have a way to protect themselves.  They didn’t get where they are today by being stupid.  I want them to know that we thought of it, and we thought it through, and I want them to know that we don’t think they’re stupid, because we’ve said so many fucking moronic things that I want to let them know we’re not absolute potatoes.

Wait, says Owen.  I was kind of assuming that letting Lorcan and Sloane and Suibhne talk was all part of a strategy of misdirection, you know, get them to underestimate us.

Spoken like a true engineer, I say to him.  You’re good at seeing the most direct, most obvious solution.  But nothing here is direct or obvious, is that right?

Hurley nods.  Bright green.  We’re scoring points, he says.

No, everything we’ve said is on the level.  Lorcan is Lorcan, Suibhne is Suibhne.  We aren’t hiding anything.

So you’re saying we don’t have a strategy at all? asks Owen.  He’s worried.  Mickey’s worried.

I’m saying that we haven’t played our ace.  But if it makes everybody feel better, let’s have Constantine go next.  He can actually finish the fucking story about General Panic.

Onward – ->

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