Peter Telep - Pilgrim stars

"None taken. Still, you're assuming we'll make it back in time and that the Kilrathi won't double-cross. You should be here in case that happens."

"Why James, you actually sound like you care." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Has the sex gone to your head?"

"I haven't changed and neither has my argument. You know what I think of this. You know why I came. Call me demanding, but I'd like both of us to grow very old, whether we're together or not. Am I asking too much?"

"Maybe you are. And maybe you're forgetting that our lives… they're not ours. They never were. Didn't you tell me that?"

"Yes, but think about what you've done. Has it been for the people? You don't even have the protur's blessing."

"You spoke with him," she fired back. "You know I do. Go to him now if you've forgotten."

"Oh, I've spoken with him enough. He's Protur Carver Tsu the Third, not the second. I've known for a while now."

"He's the protur," she said, spacing her words for effect.

"A protur who assumed that position after Carver Tsu the Second died suddenly of natural causes during your visit to McDaniel. Remarkable timing, wouldn't you say? You didn't even let Frotur McDaniel in on your plan, and he disagrees with what you've done. You conspired with Carver Tsu the Third. Technically, you have the protur's blessing, but he is not a protur who represents the voice of our people. They don't want this war."

She seized his arm and pulled him toward the viewport, out of the crew's earshot. "How do you know what they want? You've been away for too long. Wake up, James. This is our time."

"Yes, it's our time to die. And for what?"

"For a chance to remind our people that the stars belong to the elect. I'd die for that."

"Who are we to claim the stars? Maybe they belong to no one. Or everyone. Why are we the elect? Because Ivar Chu says we are? What if he's wrong?"

She shook her head, unwilling to hear more. "We're going down to Aloysius. Once I take care of business, you and I will finish this. Let's go." She stomped off.

He stood there a moment, staring through fractured thoughts and suddenly realizing that there wasn't anything left to talk about, that he couldn't save her from herself. He had been living in denial for twenty-four days. The time had to come to act. And to grieve.

"Brotur Taggart?" she called from the lift.

With a perfunctory nod, he left the viewport to join her.

VEGA SECTOR.ROBERT'S QUADRANT.FREYA SYSTEM.KILRATHI BORDER.KIS SHAK AR'ROC BATTLE GROUP.

2654.113. 1100 HOURS,IMPERIAL STANDARD TIME

Admiral Vukar had tried for the past several days to ignite his darkened spirits, but the recent past held nothing but misery. Their jump into the Hell's Kitchen system had resulted in the loss of a dreadnought. First Fang Jatark had been killed by Makorshk, and Vukar had challenged his tactical officer. The duel should have already taken place, but Vukar had been agonizing over the date. He knew he should fight the second fang to the death, but he still recognized his need for the young warrior on his bridge. So he had decided that their blood duel would take place on Kilrah, before Sator-shck and the rest of the clan elders. Makorshk had, of course, warmly accepted this idea as the rest of the crew grew more suspicious of Vukar's ever-growing tolerance. Though no one had voiced his objections, Vukar knew that his warriors did not understand his actions. Even warriors who unintentionally insulted their superiors were expected to commit zu'kara; Makorshk had done far more than that, yet Vukar allowed him to live. For the past week, Vukar had emerged only a few times from his quarters to supervise jumps. He handled most of his inter-ship communications from there, which sparked even more rumors. He simply felt too broken, too dishonored to show his face. They had not detected the Confederation supercruiser. The ship could be anywhere. And jumping through Confederation space on a haphazard search would only result in the loss of more ships, even the loss of the entire battle group. Twice they had narrowly escaped Confederation cap ships that had jumped into systems even as they had jumped out. The apes' tenacious pursuit proved both enviable and unsettling. With little else left to do, Vukar had ordered their return to Kilrah.

Now, as he sat in his quarters, flooding his gut with the liquid warmth of sckviska, a celebratory drink he had been saving for the day they captured the supercruiser, he decided that the blood duel with Makorshk would not take place, that once on Kilrah, he would commit zu'kara to atone for his failure, for his disgrace.

"Kalralahr?"

Snapping out of his thoughts, Vukar regarded the comm unit atop his tusk-shaped desk. Comm Officer Ta'kar'ki's face contorted violently in a vision often produced by sckviska. "What is it?" Vukar hissed, then sat up and tried to collect himself.

"Dax'tri nar Ragitagha wishes to speak with you."

"Where is he now?"

"His battle group has just jumped into the system."

Vukar set down his ewer of sckviska. "He's here?"

"Yes, my Kalralahr."

"Establish a link."

Ta'kar'ki bowed his head, and the image switched to Admiral Dax'tri, an ancient warlord whose whiskers had thinned to just several pairs and whose eyes looked more gray than yellow. "Returning to the empire so soon, Vukar?" The old one's cutting tone reminded Vukar of the years of often violent rivalry between them.

Vukar dismissed the question with one of his own. "What do you want?"

"I thought I'd take a moment to bathe in your failure. This is typical of the Caxki hrai. You have always been the weakest of the noble clans. The emperor should have charged me with finding that supercruiser. We would have had it by now."

"My destroyers were lost. The honor was mine. And so now is the shame. But you shame yourself by reveling in my failure."

Dax'tri brightened as he leaned back in his chair. "You have failed. There is no doubt about that. But the leaders of our two clans have struck a bargain from which we will both profit."

"My days as Kalralahr are already over. No bargain can save them." Vukar closed his eyes, drew in a long breath of nutrient gas, savored it, then faced Dax'tri with a deeper look of despair.

"You plan to accept defeat without a fight? This I cannot believe."

"Had I the means to fight I would."

"Then I will give them to you. Your clan will secede from the emperor's new alliance if my clan gives you the location of the Confederation supercruiser and allows your battle group to recover it."

"Satorshck would not have bargained with your people," said Vukar, barely containing his roar. "You dishonor me and him by suggesting such a discussion took place."

"Oh, but it did, Kalralahr. And we do have the location of that supercruiser. I've had an arrangement with Pilgrim mercenaries for over a standard year now, and that's the reason why my clan has procured so much Confederation technology."

Vukar thought back to the many triumphs that the Ragitagha clan had claimed in the past year. Yes, they had confiscated more Confederation equipment and information than any other clan. Perhaps they did have an understanding with the Pilgrims, but Vukar had never known Dax'tri to be so forthcoming. "Why not take the honor yourself and bring back that supercruiser? It would not be the first time you strayed from an order."

"Breaking up the emperor's new alliance is far more important than the meager honor of recovering a single ship, whether it has a unique drive system or not. The alliance will destroy our clans. Our leaders recognize that. We should as well. Of course, Satorshck is taking full advantage of the situation. The Rag-itagha and Caxki clans will work together to undermine this new alliance." Dax'tri raised his shoulders and leaned toward the camera. "Now, Vukar, listen closely. You will find the super-cruiser in the Aloysius system, in orbit of Aloysius Prime. She is there taking on personnel and supplies. You can reach her in twelve standard hours."