Peter Telep - Pilgrim stars

Once the last traitor had filed through the door, Aristee favored Zimbaka with widened eyes. "You're only ten. Can you still do any damage?"

Zimbaka scanned the others. Some shared his steady gaze of confidence while a few still looked uncertain. "We can do some damage."

"I'll take you up to the aft observation bubble," she said. "You'll have privacy and a direct line." She spun on her heel, strode to the hatch, then paused. "You're not breaking the edicts," she assured them, "because those edicts no longer exist. Yes, we're rewriting the law, all of us, and it'll be a law that establishes our rightful place among the stars. Our days of bowing to the Confederation and the Kilrathi are over."

Admiral Vukar swiveled his command chair and thrust out his jaw in the expression of demand.

Comm Officer Ta'kar'ki snapped his gaze toward his instruments. "Yes, Kalralahr, our cruisers and destroyer are jettisoning all non-essential equipment and personnel to increase thrust."

"How many warriors will give their lives?"

"Approximately eighty."

"Eighty…" The number gave Vukar pause. He closed his eyes and spent a moment in reflective silence, then said, "We send them into the void with Sivar's highest blessing. Their names will adorn the temples, their souls the heavens. If only we could be so fortunate…" His whiskers stood on end and salvia gathered in his mouth as he coursed with the renewed electricity of the hunt.

The moment they had jumped into the system and had detected the supercruiser, Vukar had cried out in relief and had launched a long-range communications drone back to K'n'Rek to confirm that Dax'tri nar Ragitagha had, indeed, provided the correct location of the supercruiser. The Ragitagha clan had behaved honorably, and now the Ragitagha would rejoice as the Caxki clan withdrew from the emperor's new alliance. Vukar would seize the supercruiser and take it back to K'n'Rek, where both clans would exploit its technology. Or, perhaps, he would take it somewhere else and send out scouts to K'n'Rek to make sure the Ragitagha had set a trap for him. That seemed a more intelligent plan.

"She is still traveling at full impulse," Tactical Officer Mako-rshk reported. "And still no trace of gravitic distortion." A wavering hiss rose from the second fang's gut. "Kalrahalr, something is wrong."

Since every bridge officer knew that a challenge existed between Vukar and Makorshk, any conversation between the two turned some of those officers into anxious, quavering fools who at any moment expected blood to spill. A few of the older warriors kept their composure and scrutinized Vukar, searching for a reason why he had permitted the second fang to live so long. Unlike them, Makorshk was not afraid to voice his opinion, to stray from blind obedience, to use his own initiative to solve problems. The young second fang represented a new generation of Kilrathi, one Vukar hoped would still embrace the old ways while developing a new and vital sense of individuality. Although he despised that aspect of human culture, he conceded that there lurked something very powerful within a thinking warrior who could also listen to his heart. Makorshk represented a blending of the old and new, and he would not be the last of the Caxki clan to challenge authority.

Without breaking his gaze on the glistening dot that he followed through the forward viewport, Vukar tilted his head in Makorshk's direction. "What is it?"

"We've been pursuing them for a few minutes now, my Kalralahr. Why haven't they engaged their hopper drive?"

Vukar had nearly forgotten about the supercruiser's capability. For too long he had fought against similar Confederation carriers equipped with the standard jump drive that required a natural gravity well or other anomaly to function. He had wrongly assumed that the supercruiser speeded toward the system's jump point, and relying on that assumption he had predicted that his battle group would cut it off before it could reach that destination. But if the ship could create its own gravity well at any time, then yes, why hadn't it jumped?

Vukar pushed his bulky frame up from the chair and pounded back to the tactical station. "Range of our cruisers and destroyer?"

"One-eight-five-six kilometers and closing," said Makorshk, tapping a long finger on his display. "All four ships continue the bombardment."

"Ta'kar'ki?" Vukar called to the comm officer. "Remind our captains that once her shields have been weakened, they will use only low-level lasers to disable her ion engines."

"Yes, Kalralahr."

"The supercruiser is sustaining heavy fire," Makorshk said, observing images coming in from the cruisers. "Perhaps they will draw our escorts closer, then engage their drive to destroy them. But in order to do that, they have to permit our ships to come within five hundred meters to be affected by their gravity well. We could easily disable her well before we came so close. Something is very wrong."

"I suggest you discover what that something is," Vukar said, making much more than a suggestion.

Makorshk slowly lifted his head from his screens and regarded Vukar with a near-frozen stare. "I think I already have. We should pull back our escorts and initiate long-range bombing. If you allow them to get any closer, we'll lose them."

"How? She lacks the firepower."

"Yes, she does, but she won't need her weapons. If her engi-neers have modified the hopper drive so that its gravity well can become larger than five hundred meters, then they will destroy our ships without launching a single torpedo. I've already presented this scenario to you, and it seems the only reason why they haven't jumped. They're baiting our ships. They could activate that drive at any moment." The second fang paused to pull in a long breath, seemingly overwhelmed by his own realizations. "Kalrahalr? You have a decision to make."

So Paladin lays on the guilt trip and me — the sucker — goes for it and here I am like one minute until launch and I'm about to fight for a bunch of fanatics and mass murderers and how's your day shaping up?

Maniac shifted his butt deeper into the seat, trying to buckle himself down for launch and adjust his poorly fitting Skivvies, issued by a farsighted Pilgrim supply officer. At least the Pilgrim repair crew had not screwed up; they'd done an outstanding job on his fighter. Most of the damaged thruster and reactor components had been replaced by new ones instead of the usual reman-ufactured parts; that fact alone deserved his admiration.

Okay, they fixed up my ride. It's not like I should thank them like this. Shit. I wish Zarya was here. I can't believe I miss her so much. Is it love? Or am I just horny? I need someone to talk to right now. Forget Blair. Can't talk to him. He's as big an idiot as me. The Pilgrims flash him some T amp;A and tell him some lies and they got him by the tiller. I can't trust him or the commodore anymore. I'm alone. It's up to me to take out this bitch. I do that, come out of this alive, they'll make me the goddamned space marshal…

"They say your call sign is Maniac," the flight boss said, her ghastly face a potent emetic that threatened to crack his Visual Display Unit. "Well, let me tell you something, Mr. Maniac, you try any bullshit out there, I got a friend up in fire control who will issue you an antimatter enema."

"Excuse me, ma'am, but I'm unfamiliar with the technical terms 'bullshit' and 'antimatter enema.'"

"But you are familiar with what a single round of antimatter fire can do to your day…"

"You seem uptight, ma'am. Sounds like you could use a little, I don't know, recreational spanking."

"Line up, mister!"

Maniac placed his gloved hand over the miniature camera mounted above the visual display, blocking her view. He nodded to the deck boss and followed the man's signals, positioning his Rapier between the hangar's bulkhead and the launch tube.