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warrior caste, the Zaltule. From what
we learned on our Delton rescue mission, the Kleese Empire has fractured.
Supreme Overlord Xatul and several other powerful members of the Kleese Council
of Overlords have fled the empire with a major portion of the exploration
fleet. Military Overlord Harmock has taken over as the Supreme Overlord and is currently
searching for Xatul.”
    “Where did
this information come from?” asked General Pittman, who had been sitting
quietly and listening to what was being discussed.
    “From our
Delton rescue mission,” Wade answered. “Several Deltons heard the Kleese
talking about a division in their ranks. We only recently confirmed it from
several nonaligned worlds trading ships that managed to reach the Alliance after their worlds had been conquered. Minor Overlord Betel, when asked about it,
also indicated it was true. I believe it’s also one of the reasons he
surrendered.” Betel was the Kleese who had surrendered when his trading station
had been seized by Wade and his Marines.
    “What does
that mean for us?” asked General Mitchell.
    “Unknown,”
Wade responded. “There has been no known fighting between the two groups, and
the Zaltule are coming to believe Xatul left the empire to travel to another
section of the galaxy to create his own Kleese Empire free of the influence of
the warrior clan. I’ve spoken to Minor Overlord Betel about this several times
but he refuses to speak of the Zaltule. I believe we’ve learned all we’re going
to from him.” Betel was being kept on Centerpoint Station in a heavily guarded
cell.
    “So even if we
manage to defeat the Zaltule, this former Supreme Overlord is out there
somewhere and we may have to deal with him sometime in the future,” commented
General Pittman.
    “It may mean
the Kleese are now weaker than we thought,” General Mitchell said, his forehead
creasing in a thoughtful frown. He turned his attention toward Colonel Winfrey.
“Is your mission ready to launch?”
    “The training’s
done,” Dylan said. “We can leave whenever you give the order.”
    “Admiral Adamson,
are your ships ready?”
    “We are,”
Adamson replied. “We can leave tomorrow.”
    “I thought the
new assault cruisers would be acting on their own?” queried Dylan, feeling
slightly confused. They had discussed assigning each cruiser a series of
targets, each one deeper into Kleese space.
    “They will
be,” answered Fleet Admiral Kelly. “However, we want to send sufficient fleet
assets along so if one of the assault cruisers gets into trouble we can prevent
the Kleese from taking our Marines captive as they did to Colonel Stratford’s people.”
    “We’re still
discussing the exact size of the fleet,” Admiral Adamson added. “We’ll have the
final fleet makeup finalized tomorrow.”
    Dylan nodded
his head in agreement. They had lost a lot of good people on that mission to
Diadem. “Have you chosen our targets yet?”
    “Yes,” Fleet Admiral
Kelly answered. “You’re going on quite a trip; almost to the heart of the
Kleese Empire. We need to force them to hold off their attack upon the Alliance for several more months to give us time to train and make our final preparations.
We want them confused as to the exact size of the fleet we have operating in
their space. That’s another reason for adding so many warships.”
    “So when do we
depart?” asked Dylan. “I would like to give my Marines a few days leave before
we go. Some of them probably won’t be returning home.”
    General
Mitchell looked down at his desk and sighed. He hated sending people on
missions like this. “The mission leaves in five days. I think we can probably
squeeze in forty-eight hours of leave time in that period.”
    Wade felt a
chill run down his back. He knew Ryan’s Marines would be in the thick of the
fighting. How was he going to tell his parents that Ryan was going off into
danger once again? They had nearly panicked the previous year when Ryan