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Velasquez.
    Mackintosh looked up with a frown. “The flying beehive on a stick? That sounds a bit…cumbersome for a ship classification, don’t you think?”
    By the time the fifth of the self-immolating minesweepers had come through and blasted deeper into Krishmahnta’s minefields, the alien ship had acquired a permanent, sawed-off version of its longer moniker. It was now simply a s tickhive .
    Arduan SDH Shem’pter’ai , First Fleet of the Anaht’doh Kainat , Beaumont System
    Staring at a miniature holographic replica of the planet that the enemy called Beaumont, Admiral Narrok saw that the brown and blue orb swam not only at the center of the tacplot but at the center of a surprisingly wide array of enemy ship icons. There are too many of the human ships, he thought, but did not allow this observation to enter the stream of fellow-feeling and telepathy—or selnarm —that was the reciprocal communicative medium linking him to the other persons on the bridge. Then he allowed a carefully emended version of his strategic deduction to bleed into the communal mental link. “There are more griarfeksh ships than we expected, Holodah’kri . Many more.”
    Urkhot, the visiting high priest—or holodah’kri —radiated a selnarmic wave of (dismay) at the mention of the size of the enemy fleet. But he also emitted a brief pulse of (satisfaction, relief) when Narrok referred to the humans as griarfeksh —a particularly unsavory, hairless carrion eater of their homeworld. However, the last griarfeksh had vanished long ago—along with their homeworld, Ardu, and its sun, all destroyed when the nearby blue giant Sekamahnt went nova. Narrok felt that the accepted term for humans— griarfeksh —was unsuitable and even dangerously misleading, but he had resolved to use it reflexively when he was sharing his selnarm with xenophobic militants such as the high priest.
    Urkhot—tall and golden-skinned, his third and central eye unblinking—stared at the holographic representation of the clashing fleets as if he could read the whorls of changing icons and data well enough to assess the accuracy of Narrok’s strategic deduction. Which he indirectly contested by observing, “ We seem to outnumber them . Vastly.”
    “And so we do, Holodah’kri . But the odds of our success here in Beaumont are not the cause of my concern.”
    “Ahh…” And Urkhot made the wheezing grunt that was the vocal amplification of a modest selnarmic (realization). “Now I understand. You are concerned that the griarfeksh have not drawn strength from this fleet in order to defend against the simultaneous attack Second Admiral Sarhan is making upon the system they call…eh…”
    “Raiden,” supplied Narrok. “No, if anything, the hu— griarfeksh commander in Raiden has sent further reinforcements here . They are wise.”
    “They are the whetstone upon which Illudor sharpens our edge.” Urkhot projected (resolve, pride).
    “Most assuredly.” Narrok returned a pulse of (calm agreement).
    “So let us attack quickly, before they react.”
    “ Holodah’kri , their lack of reaction is not due to surprise. Our immense preparations—with both the Urret-fah’ah minesweepers and the SBMHAWK wave attacks—announced our arrival quite clearly. And well beforehand.”
    “Then why do they not move? Has our preliminary bombardment stunned them, inflicted so many losses that they are paralyzed?”
    Narrok kept from coiling his lesser tentacles in dismay. He suppressed his first reaction: Can you truly be such an imbecile? Instead, he sent a quick flash of (regret). “It seems unlikely. There is little wreckage, other than that of the mines we destroyed, and of our own Urret-fah’ah hulls.”
    “How could this be? Did you not assure Senior Admiral Torhok and me, and thereby the Council of Twenty, that a massive preliminary bombardment was essential? And that acquiring the capacity to do so by installing the…the external-ordnance racks…on our