“Do you assume, then, that there can be only one military mind that sees the Chiss as the prime obstacle to dominion over the Chaos?” the voice came. To Qilori’s relief, there seemed to be more grim amusement than anger in the tone. “No, Qilori of Uandualon. Had we been guiding Yiv’s efforts, instead of merely watching them, he would have been far more successful.”

“Of course,” Qilori said, ducking his head. “I apologize for any offense.”

“None is taken. At any rate, the frontal attack has failed, as many of us predicted it would. Clearly, something more subtle will be necessary.”

Qilori pricked up his ears. “You’re going against the Chiss?”

“Do you disapprove?”

“Not at all,” Qilori assured him. “They’ve taken my life from me. If your offer of a bright future includes revenge on the Chiss, you can count me in.”

“Excellent.”

Abruptly, the displays and controls came back to life. Qilori took a deep breath, watching as the self-checks cleared, watching as the location display calibrated itself. His earlier assessment had been correct: They were very much in the middle of nowhere.

“You may continue our journey,” the voice continued. “We will talk again later.”

“Yes,” Qilori said. “May I…if I can’t have your name, can you at least tell me what to call you?”

“Jixtus,” the voice said. “You may call me Jixtus. Make good note of that name, Qilori of Uandualon.

“It’s the name of he who will finally and completely destroy the Chiss Ascendancy.”

For all those who stand on the edge of chaos