Peter Telep - Pilgrim stars

"In this existence, there never is enough time. Oh, how I look forward to life in the continuum. It'll be my revenge for all of those lost hours. Come now. Let's get something to eat. The Sos-turs of Promise have prepared a feast in the officer's dining room."

"I'm not hungry," Amity said. "But I'll come anyway."

Commodore Richard Bellegarde bit his lower lip as he watched four squadrons of the Concordia's fighters and a squadron of Broadsword bombers soar away from the ship, vectoring toward the Sivar-class dreadnought and three Fralthi-class cruisers at coordinates just two kilometers ahead. The Concordia had jumped into the Ymir system forty minutes ago to assist the CS Beacontree, a Bengal-class strike carrier that had been closest to the trouble zone. Tolwyn had sent the Beacontree to Ymir with orders to simply stall the Kilrathi until the Concordia and her battle group jumped in. Odd thing was, the Beacontree had arrived nearly twenty-four hours ago, and the Kilrathi had yet to make a move. They hovered between the third and fourth planets of the system, on the periphery of an asteroid belt. And they had remained there since their own arrival, over thirty-six hours ago.

"Now we blow them back to Sivar," Tolwyn said, beating a fist into a palm. He stood, gave a cursory glance of the wide bridge, then joined Bellegarde near the viewport. "They ought to bloody well know the penalty for trespassing."

"Either way, we'll teach it to them," Bellegarde added.

"Any news from Nephele?"

"Not since the last report. The Bedford Falls and the Tricaliber should be able to hold their own. But like these cats, the Kilrathi in that system are just sniffing around."

"Here's what I think, Richard. The emperor learned of the attack on Mylon. Of course he also lost a couple of destroyers out near K'n'Rek to the Olympus. So now he's thinking that Pilgrims are responsible, since Mylon is Confederation territory. He sends out two battle groups to attack Ymir and Nephele, but then he realizes that if he starts these two battles, he'll have to finish them. And I think he lacks the resources to do that. So he gets cold feet. Sends them in here anyway to gather what intelligence they can and deploy cloaked spy satellites. Now, if you mark my words, reports will come in from our fighters that the Kilrathi are in retreat, headed toward the jump point." Tolwyn craned his neck and looked to the radar station. "Mr. Abrams?"

"Our fighters are still pursuing the battle group, sir. The Kilrathi have altered course. Looks they're headed to the jump point."

Bellegarde shook his head in mild astonishment. "When will you teach me that trick?"

"It's no trick. Just think like a pack hunter. Now if our squadrons continue to pursue, they could be ambushed by one, perhaps two destroyers that broke off from the main battle group. Mr. Wilks? Give the order for recall."

The comm officer nodded. "All fighters return to base, aye-aye, sir."

"You see, Richard, despite the emperor's cold feet, he wants us to know that he has these battle groups within jump range. Call it posturing, but it does humble the more keen strategist."

"Do you think he knows about the Olympus"

"Yes, and if I know the Kilrathi, the battle group commander whose ships were lost has sworn an oath to find her-"

"Which makes this even more precarious."

Tolwyn gave a sober nod. "If the Kilrathi find the Olympus before we do, then pray that they annihilate her. If they recover that hopper drive, well…"

"This new war against the Pilgrims is more about that drive than about ideology. I'd like to know more about this drive and our knowledge of its inception."

"Sorry, Richard. This one's compartmentalized. Orders came down directly from the space marshal. I've told you all that I can. But I am working on something of my own. When I can tell you more, I will."

"Admiral? Data relay coming in from a drone dispatched in the Tartarus system," Comm Officer Wilks reported. "It's from the Tiger Claw."

"Decrypt and transfer to my station," Tolwyn said, then hurried to his command chair.

Bellegarde swung the admiral's small data screen up and into place, then shifted for a look himself. The text-only report detailed the Claw's encounter with the Olympus at Lethe. Bellegarde muttered a "whoa" as he scanned the casualty list. Then, in the final summary, a familiar name jumped out at him, and even the admiral tapped his finger on the letters.

"Well, well, well. Young Lieutenant Blair is back at it again," Tolwyn said. "I'd almost forgotten there was another Pilgrim on board the Claw. It seems that young man saved his squadron and discovered the Olympus's jump target."

"I know how you feel about him, sir. And about his father. But we are talking about Pilgrims here."

"Honestly, Richard, he's not the one I'm worried about…"

VEGA SECTOR.DOWNING QUADRANT BORDER.KIS SHAK AR" ROC BATTLE GROUP.TARTARUS SYSTEM.

2654.082.2200 HOURS IMPERIAL STANDARD TIME

After making four jumps and traveling for three standard days, Admiral Vukar nar Caxki's patience had worn as thin as the kaschee ceremonial scarf coiled around his neck. He emitted a steady growl as he contemplated the image pouring in through the forward viewport. The Confederation world known as Lethe shimmered like the great blue eye on the Caxki clan's temple. Scanners had already detected clouds of debris from Rapier starfighters, clearly indicating that a battle had occurred in the system not too long ago-but a battle between that supercruiser and who? Probably Confederation forces trying to stop it, and Vukar prayed to Sivar that they had not succeeded in capturing or destroying her.

"Kalralahr, we're picking up more debris at coordinates five-six-two by eight-two-one," Tactical Officer Makorshk said, sitting at his station directly behind Vukar's command chair. "The debris is paniculate-evidence of another gravity well. Analysis in progress. As expected, it's the remains of more Confederation Rapiers. It appears that no ships larger than their standard utility fighters were destroyed here. I believe the supercruiser made another jump. Gravitic residuum analysis in progress, but it will take some time, my Kalralahr."

"What about ion emissions?" Vukar asked.

Makorshk studied data on a convex display, his snout cast in an emerald flicker. "Sivar smiles on us. Another day or so, and all traces would have vanished. A strike carrier and two destroyers operated here within the last fifty imperial hours, though that is the computer's best estimate. Scan also detects emissions from a supercruiser. Identification positive. Emissions match the ship our destroyers encountered near K'n'Rek."

"Alert me as soon as you have its jump target plotted. I'll be in my ready room."

Makorshk grunted his acknowledgment.

Once inside his small sanctuary, Vukar advanced to the tiny shrine at the rear bulkhead. The six sivistian candles that burned in a circle around the meter-high statue of Sivar were now little more than stumps, their light shying off into reflective puddles of wax. Sivar's coppery countenance held a permanent glower, and Vukar closed his eyes and knelt before the war god. "The honor is always yours, Sivar. I find my strength in you. But I am tired now. And my quest seems foolhardy. The blood frenzy throbs within me, but I sense it will all be for naught. I sense I'm but a lowborn in a universe that cares little for me, for us, for our people's actions. Will we really be remembered? Or are we merely victims of the petty games between clans, empires, species? Show me the way, Sivar, and I will follow. I pledge my bones and blood to you. Make me worthy to accept your blessing, to receive your strength, to act according to your wisdom." Vukar stood, went to his meditation chair, and collapsed into it. He swiveled to the comm terminal, touched a key, and replayed the conversation he had had with Satorshck nar Caxki. Before leaving for the K'n'Rek system, Vukar had contacted the leader of Caxki clan to report the emperor's wishes.