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Their armor was equally ceremonial but less splendorous than that of the Great Master. They bore no swords or other weapons, ceremonial or otherwise. The only functional weapons in the room were those carried by the five Large Ones who sat or stood around the Great Master, and those shielded from sight behind screens on the room's periphery. At the Great Master's sound of contentment, they bowed low over their knees and touched their foreheads to the matting before their ankles.
    The diminutive female who knelt at the Great Master's knee poured fresh, steaming liquid from an exquisite pot. The Great Master glanced lovingly at the single flower, imported at great expense all the way from Home. It stood in a fluted vase on the low, lacquered table on which he placed his cup before he lifted it, refilled, and sipped anew.
    As though that was their signal, more diminutive females entered the room. Their feet shuffled softly over the matting in the tiny steps that were all their narrow ankle-length robes allowed. Each carried a tray with a finely decorated steaming pot and two handleless cups. These females knelt with breathtaking grace at low tables set between the Over Masters and more senior Senior Masters. With equal grace and in near perfect unison, they poured from the pots into the cups. When the cups were full, the females gracefully turned about on their knees and bowed low to the Great Master.
    He flicked languid fingers, and all the females save the one who served him rose liquidly to their feet and quietly shuffled away. The Over Masters and more senior of the Senior Masters reached to the low tables and lifted the cups to their lips. They sipped, and sighed with pleasure, the sound of rain falling on a forest canopy.
    The Great Master grinned so his teeth showed. It was the grin of a predator that has pounced and borne its prey, struggling and squealing, to the ground. His breath rasped through gill slits almost fully atrophied from lack of recent use. When he spoke, his voice was high tide crashing against a volcanic cliff.
    "Phase two of this operation has begun well," he began. "At the slight cost of fewer than three hundred Fighters, we have achieved two glorious victories! In one raid we devastated the morale of the Earthman pond scum in their defensive positions by demonstrating that we can breach their lines anytime we wish. In another fight we slaughtered the Earthman Marine reinforcements. Their morale is now as shattered as that of their cousins who have already learned they will lose to us."
    He swiftly drew his sword and thrust it into the air above his head. "Now, while they are dazed and bleeding and know not where we will strike again, it is time to launch Operation Rippling Lava!" His voice crashed and sizzled, a lava river falling into the ocean.
    The Over Masters and more senior of the Senior Masters roared their eagerness for Rippling Lava, the sound of a monsoon storm crashing down on an unprepared village.
    Brigadier Sturgeon sat front and center in the briefing room. On his right was Brigadier Sparen, commander of 26th FIST. Colonel Ramadan, normally 34th FIST's chief-of-staff but now acting commander, sat to his left. Sturgeon now commanded what was called "Marine Expeditionary Forces, Kingdom."
    Commander Daana, 34th FIST's F-2—intelligence officer—who was pulling double duty as F-2 for the MEF, stood at the lectern in front of the room. Behind the three top commanders, the other section chiefs of their FIST staffs sat in rows of folding chairs, as well as commanders of major subordinate units and their number twos. A few officers from the CNSS Grandar Bay , observers more than participants in the briefing, sat in the last row of chairs. The Army of the Lord was noticeably absent.
    "The Skinks are still defeating the string-of-pearls," Daana said. "The Grandar Bay has its surface reconnaissance analysts using the same technique to study the satellite data that was developed when an infantry