Chanur's Homecoming

She spun her chair about to face the kif who sat at the aft of the bridge. And there was not a hair on her unbristled. “What has he in mind for us?”

“You are part of his sfik. You increase him. Kkkkt. His move is very good. He has penned you all in with his main force. Any attempt to exit toward your territories of resource are blocked first by his enemy and then by his own ships, whose capacities you do not know. It is a fine move, hakt’. But I have faith in you.”

“Faith.”

“Inappropriate word? Sgotkkis.”

“Call it faith.” She laid her ears back and stared at her private curse with coldest, clearest threat. “Since you don’t have an idea in a mahen hell what I’m likely to do about it. But / am still here. And my resources have not diminished.”

“Kkkkt, kkkt, skthot skku-nak’haktu.”

Your slave, captain.

“Captain,” Hilfy said. “Communication from Harukk. Quote: You have made a proposal to hani ships. You will gather these captains for my inspection on-station. End message.”

Second move. It’s going too fast. 0 gods.

“Acknowledge,” she said, cold as routine. While they slogged their way at a sedate pace through a system laced with kif, toward a station which was going to be under kifish occupation. “Sikkukkut’s going into dock. Cocky son’s going to bring that ship in.”

If Goldtooth and the humans have stopped short and the kif pass them by in hyperspace, we could get hit here.

Hilfy and Haral have got it figured. All of us do.

If Akkhtimakt’s set up to dive in here again-an attack could be poised at system’s edge right now. Or already inbound. Not saying whether the kif are onto that trick of stopping a jump. They could well have it. Maybe and maybe. It’s not saying all their ships can do it.

“Transmit,” she said. “Honor to the hakkikt: beware system edges. I fear more than spotters.”

“Done,” Hilfy said.

We help the bastard we’re with. While we’re with him.

We take whatever they want to do. And maintain our options. Ehrran’s lost all hers. We got hani on that station and gods know how many fluttering stsho. Keep a cool head, Pyanfar Chanur. It’s by the gods all the chance you’ve got.

“We’re getting docking instructions,” Hilfy murmured finally. They turned up on screen, where kifish ships were already well toward touch with station.

And from Chur, plaintively over com:

“What in a mahen hell’s going on?”

“Easy,” Geran said. “It’s all all right.”

“Got crew falling on their noses tired,” Pyanfar muttered. “Haral, keep it steady, standard dock. Tirun, get yourself below, take the rest of your break.”

“Aye,” Tirun said. Old spacer. And falling-down tired. A belt snicked. Tirun went away in silence, to food, sleep, anything she could get.

“Jik’s requesting to be out,” Khym said. So that voice had vanished off com. Khym had silenced him. A mahen hunter captain, locked in a lowerdecks cabin and probably trying to think how to shortcircuit the latch or take the door apart.

“Jik,” she said, cutting in on that blinking light on her com section. “We’re all right. F’godssakes, be patient, get some rest, we’ve got our hands full, you got our scan image. We’re moving in on dock and that’s all that’s going on for a while.”

“Pyanfar.” The voice was calm, quiet, reasoning. “I understand. I make problem, a? You got protect you crew. I make ’pology. I lot embarrass’, Pyanfar. Long time with kif make me crazy. Now I got time think-I know what you do. We be long time ally. We befriends, Pyanfar. Same interest. You unlock door, a?”

“I tell you there’s nothing you can do up here. You got awhile to rest, Jik. Take it. You may need it.”

“Pyanfar.” Thump. Impact of a hand near the pickup. Hard. So much for patience. “You in damn deep water. Hear? Deep water!”

“We got another expression.” She flattened her ears, lifted them again. “Told you. After we dock. We got enough troubles, friend. I want your advice, but I got enough to deal with right now.”

“It be war,” Jik said, and sent a chill up her back. War was a groundling word. “Fool hani! The ships go, they go ever’ damn place, not got stop, not got stop!”

“F’godssake, this is open space! This is the Compact, we’re not talking about some backwater land-quarrel!”

“No. No hanis. New kind thing. Not with rule. We talk ’bout make fight all kif, all hani, all mahendo’sat, make ally, make strike here, strike there. This new kind word. Not like clan and clan. Not like go council. Here we got no council. War, Pyanfar, all devils in hell got no word this thing I see.”

Colder and colder.

“I see it too. So what are the mahendo’sat going to do about it? What have they done about it? Play games with the kif til we got ’em all at each others’ throats? Shove Akkhtimakt off toward hani space? My world? How’m I supposed to be worried about you and yours, rot your conniving hide, when you doublecrossed my whole species! You doublecrossed the stsho, f’godssakes, and that takes fast dealing! You double-crossed the tc’a, gods help us, you doublecrossed them and the chi and maybe the knnn!”