Thank gods for Tauran.
"Captain." Tirun from the com, voice strained by the decel. "Give us a window, we'll get up there."
"Negative, negative, stay down there. You want scan on monitor down there you got it. I want you rested. Hear?"
"Captain-"
"Do it, Tirun. Don't fight me. Trank out if you got to. I need you later, hear me?"
Delay.
"Trank. I mean it, Tirun. I got to come down there?"
"No, cap'n. Loud and clear. We don't need the trank, though. Can I ask-"
"Gods help me." Her voice faded and breath all but failed her. "Get off the com, f'godssakes, cousin, give me a rest."
"Out, cap'n." Short and quiet and off the com. Instantly.
She ducked her head into her hands. Was I short? I didn't mean to be short. Call 'em back. Tell 'em-O gods. Tell 'em what?
Brain won't work. That's all. I can't think. Call 'em back, they'll know I'm off.
That'd make 'em rest real easy, wouldn't it, Pyanfar?
Professionals down below there. Not kids. Not stationsiders. Tirun knows what I mean. She'll trank if she has to. Professional.
Got to sit on Hilfy and Tully. My young fools. My devoted young fools.
Where's Chur? Where's Chur in this shaking-about?
"Geran, is somebody with Chur?"
Dip of the ears. "They took her downside. Crew quarters."
Safe, then, and not alone. One detail not on my shoulders.
Then:
"Transmission from Vigilance," Sif murmured. Data flowed onto her number one screen. Wordage abundant.
It was what she expected. Selected log entries. Two ships firing log segments back and forth like beamfire. Truth and counter-truth. "Gods-be fool," she murmured. Some of it was potentially explosive with the kif.
"We got that interview with Sikkukkut," Haral said.
"Save it," she said. "We got kifish ears out there. If Sikkukkut loses face here, we may have troubles we can't handle."
"Sfik," Khym said. "It's Chakkuf we have to worry about, isn't it? That's the leader."
"You got it." A chill and a warmth went through her. Her husband, on target and calm and having picked up more on the way than she gave him credit for, the way he always did. On the bridge, in a seat beside Tauran crew, and no Tauran twitching an ear at it. Do you know what you're hearing. Tauran? It's change. It's power tilting and sliding. And there's one way in all the universe I can out-do that bastard over there commanding Chakkuf. Take and hold. Grab with both hands.
A kif well understands this exchange of messages.
A kif understands what I'm asking the spacer clans to do, and he understands Ehrran's position, that it's eroding, fast. The kif aren't meddling in this, thank the gods, they know this is a situation they can foul up if they lay a hand on it and they don't want to do anything. They're waiting for me. Of course they're waiting for me. Thanks, husband.
"Message: priority." Data leapt from Sif's monitoring to monitor one, a flood of mahen log output, off a ship named Hasene.
Mahendo'sat. My gods. They're affirming Ayhar's story.
"Priority, priority."
Color-shift had begun on certain ships on far-scan, positions relayed and matrixed via continuous dopplered interlink from ships in position to pick them up. Certain ships were disentangling themselves from that welter of dots out there where the kif-kif-hani battle had wound down to stasis.
Stasis no longer.
"Priority."
Six of the spacing clans were moving. Coming in behind Chanur's Fortune and Chanur's Light. Faha kin and Harun clan were among them.
"Inbound," Haral murmured. "Gods hope they're on our side."
"Stand by armaments. We don't know what that lunatic Ehrran's going to do."
"That's spacers at Ehrran's back," Haral muttered. "Those five ships out from station behind her. I'd worry, in Ehrran's place. I'd worry right fast."
"Priority! That's a burn, Ehrran's maneuvering-"
Unmistakable on the passive-scan, the little flicker of the directionals; then mains cutting in, a deluge of energy from Vigilance, while the ships behind her stayed still.
Ehrran kept on with the burn, accelerating on an insystem vector, while information continued to shoot this way and that through the system. Then Ehrran shut down to inertiaclass="underline" they were leaving, but not at any great pace. Vigilance still had plenty of option to turn around. Or roll and fire.
"Bastard," Geran hissed. Still dangerous. Very.
Sudden, heart-stopping flares showed from one of Ehrran's backers. But that was rollover, turning nose toward Gaohn and home, the same direction as the incoming ships.
"That's Raurn's Ascendant," the Tauran First said.
Flares from the others, one and the other, and the next and the next. Rollover in each case.
Pyanfar clenched her hands and flexed the claws and gnawed her mustaches. / haven't got the strength to stay on the bridge. I can't do this. I can't last it. My gods, what am I going to do?
When it was most critical. When hani existence rode on it.
"Medkit," she said, fighting down a wave of nausea. "Fiar. Get me the medkit. Stimulant. I'd better have it."
"Captain," Haral said hoarsely, in hardly better shape.
"Don't. Don't. Get me the stuff, get me a sandwich. I got to, Hal."
"You got it," Haral said. While Fiar was off at the cabinet getting the kit.
"I'll get the sandwich," Khym said, "Gfi. Whatever you want."
His cooking. Gods. Not the tofi. She turned a dull and helpless glance his way. "Thanks. Hold the gods-be sweet stuff, huh? Just make it fast and simple."
"Fast and simple." He got out of his seat, grabbed the seat back for balance and headed up toward the galley, about the time Fiar came back with the kit, laid it out on the counter and pulled a syringe out.
She held out an arm. Held it there while the needle went in, while Sirany's voice whispered out of the distance, talking to other ships.
"You can't do this twice," Haral was saying. "Hear me. I'll put you out, cap'n."
She gave Haral a bleak stare. It was an honest threat, meant to save her life. The stimulant hit with a wave of giddiness, sending her heart thudding. For a moment her own pulse was all she could hear, and if she moved she would drift free off the floor, disoriented.
Harder and harder pulse. She drew a great breath. A second. "I'm all right," she said. And knew she had better not get up. The bridge spun and swung as if ship rotation had gone totally erratic.
Food arrived. Sandwich first. Cup of water. Fiar ran courier. The water went down best. She forced a single bite of the sandwich.
"Worse shape than Chur," Haral muttered at her side. "Gods, go off, we got running time, take it."
"Get some food yourselves. You. Geran. Get. We got everything covered. Get, hear. Want a tour with the kif?"
Haral's ears flattened. Old threat. Old joke. Not a joke, nowadays. She cleared the chair and took hold of Geran's arm when Geran got up and staggered. Both of them were out on their feet.
And leagues and leagues to go for Anuurn’s sake.
It was a knifing pain when she let her mind shift to home, and Kohan, and a refuge which did not exist any longer. The bright blue world was there. Chanur was not. Dissolved. The estate legally in the hands of her son Kara Mahn.