Chanur's Homecoming

“Yeah,” she said, thinking of that geometry, which thought suddenly shaped itself into coherent form, in full light. “Yeah. It might work. If they can do that kind of thing. But that’d mean those human ships aren’t freighters in any sense of the word- wouldn’t it? What’s a ship with holds need with that kind of rig, huh?”

“Sure seems like not. And a strike coming in here rams it right down hani throats. Again.”

“It does that, too. If they can do that.” Another and worse thought. “If mahendo’sat can pull this-wouldn’t be the first time they had some new rig they didn’t tell us about. Wouldn’t be the first time the kif turned up with it too. Before we did. Praise to the mahendo’sat. More gods-be careful of what their allies learn than what gets to their enemies.”

Gods, don’t let Ehrran be a fool.

Then, down the boards: “Priority,” Geran said. “Priority, we got a shift going on, we got a vector change on some of Sikkukkut’s lot. That’s Noikkhru and Shuffikkt-”

It came up on the monitor, part of the image changing color again as kifish ships finished their braking and began to slew off on new headings.

Headings at angles to Sikkukkut’s.

6

Color-shifts multiplied on the scan.

“Gods,” Pyanfar muttered, and put in the general take-hold. Alarm rang up and down the corridors. In case. “Message to our partners: hold steady, keep course; Khym, advisement to Chur: Take precautions, we got kif moving gods know where. Tirun, feed scan down to Jik’s monitor; tell him we’re all right, we’re still on course, we just got something going here.”

Acknowledgments came back.

“Captain,” Haral said, “Hilfy’s got this idea-”

“Tahar acknowledges,” Hilfy said. “They’re on our lead. Aye-we got that, Aja Jin. Thanks-”

“-Akkhtimakt’s got bad troubles,” Haral said. “I think we got ’em too.”

She waited. Waited till she heard Tirun report all personnel accounted for; Tirun had made it onto the bridge. A last safety snicked into place.

They were secure for running. If they had to.

On the screens the flares continued as the doppler recept sorted it out and got information trued again.

And one and another of Sikkukkut’s ships flaring green and going into maneuvers.

Not all on the same vector. They were headed out like thistledown scattering from a pod. Everywhere.

In every direction open to them, mahen space and hani and stsho and tc’a.

“They go,” Jik exclaimed over the open com. And something else profane in mahensi. He was monitoring the situation, down there in his sealed cabin. “Damn, they go, they go-”

To every star within reach. To strafe every station and every system where there might be a hostile presence.

“Priority, priority,” Hilfy said, overriding something Geran was saying: “Harukk-com says: Pride of Chanur, proceed on course.”

“They go hit ever’ damn target in Compact,” Jik cried. There was the sound of explosion. Or of a mahen fist hitting something. “Damn! Let me out!”

“She was right,” Haral muttered. “Gods-be right. They’re going to do it anyhow and we got kif every which way. Captain, they’re going to push Akkhtimakt right down that open corridor, to Anuurn, captain, by the gods they are.”

“We got problems,” Pyanfar muttered.

While a stream of mahen profanity warred with Chur’s insistent question on the com.

“Kkkkt.” From a forgotten source behind them.

And station was ahead. Meetpoint, with three hundred thousand stsho and a handful of hani citizens. With kif closing in on them with declared intent to dock.

“Transmit:” Pyanfar said. " The Pride of Chanur to all hani on station: prepare to assist in docking for incoming ships. Join us. This is your greatest hope of immediate safety.”

Offer a hani an overlord, a master, a foreign hegemony—

They would spit in Sikkukkut’s face. And die for it. That, beyond doubt.

But if they heard the reservation in that message, if they keyed on the nuances of safe-shelter-in-storm and all the baggage that went with it-even if the kif did, it was no more than kif expected, even if it was something no kif dared say: until we find a better.

“Repeat?” Hilfy queried.

“Repeat.”

“Still braking,” Geran said.

And the brightness on the amber lines that was their own position crept closer and closer to their own brake-point for station approach.

“Harun’s Industry; responds,” Hilfy said, “quote: We take your offer enthusiastically.”

It took awhile, for ships to reduce V.

It took awhile for outbound kifish ships to go their way, leaping out into the dark, toward Hoas Point and Urtur System, toward Kshshti and Kefk and Tt’a’va’o and V’n’n’u and Nsthen. Seven ships, to follow right down Akkhtimakt’s tail in a second strike after the first one; and right down the throats of Goldtooth and humans and mahendo’sat and whoever else might be coming in if they could find them.

It was, Pyanfar reckoned bleakly, both ruthless and effective.

“Kkkkt,” was Skkukuk’s comment. “Kkkkt.”

“Kkkt,” said Skkukuk. “He is challenging you all. Kkkkt. But his throat is unprotected. You are here. He thinks to daunt you. Surprise him, hakt’.”