Peter Telep - Pilgrim stars

"Inside," one jarhead said, shifting his position to drive them back toward the hatch.

"Well, what a supreme waste of time this has been," Maniac said. "Like we had a chance-"

"If you don't shut your hole, you're going to suddenly hate me even more," said the Marine guarding Maniac.

"What happens now?" Blair asked.

"Guess we're in time for the show," Santyana answered. "Look."

Paladin, Aristee, and Frotur McDaniel stood on the lower deck, at a U-shaped control panel positioned near the foot of the hopper drive. Four drive officers sat at their stations near the bulkhead behind Aristee, and three other Pilgrims now gathered near the control panel, one of whom Blair recognized as the black man who had seized Karista. A rhythmic churning sound came from the drive itself, as though the thing were some curving beast consuming shadows and whipping itself up into a frenzy.

"There he is," Maniac muttered. "Our goddamned hero. Pin a medal on his ass." He cocked his head to Blair. "What do you think now, Ace? Look to you like the commodore's trying to stop her?"

Blair swallowed back his reply as he gripped the staircase's railing. They descended to the lower deck as Aristee left the control panel, probably on her way to gloat over their capture.

But as she came forward, her face tightened in a curious expression of grief. "You think I like doing this? You think I don't realize how many people are going to die? We didn't ask for any of this. We were first. We were meant for the stars. No war will ever murder that truth." She regarded the Marines. "Return to your posts. Keep them in your sights."

As the Marines dispersed, Maniac slipped a few steps away and swung his glare on Paladin. "You goddamned traitor!"

The accusation hardly struck a blow as Paladin continued watching the monitor before him.

"Sir?" Blair cried.

Paladin would not look up.

"Sir? Is it true?"

Aristee closed in, blocking Blair's view. "Commodore Taggart was a Pilgrim first, Mr. Blair. He can't change that. No one can. Follow his example. You've assimilated your Pilgrim side even more than I thought you would, and you're not finished. And you," she began, twisting her lip at Karista. "Maybe you'll come to see the truth in our new order. Change is always difficult. I'll give you time."

"Trying to keep your enemies close?" Karista said with canines fully exposed.

"We're the same-determined, stubborn, in touch with what burns inside us. That's why we're so powerful. That's why I want you close."

"Captain," Paladin said, raising his voice. "Brotur Vyson reports multiple bogies inbound. Had them on the scope for a moment, then lost them."

Aristee stormed to the control panel and worked the touch-pad. "Give me the XO."

Blair moved in with others, ever wary of the Marines above. He spotted the grim-looking XO on a comm monitor, with bridge officers darting behind him.

"Ma'am," the XO began curtly. "First contact bearing three-two-four by five-one-nine. Designate Alpha three-one, Kilrathi Skipper missile. Range: two-zero-one-five-two Ks. Velocity: three-seven-nine KPS and holding. Five similar contacts, designated Alpha three-two through six inbound, with headings and velocities marked. We've lost them again."

"How much time?"

"Missiles will impact in forty-nine second… mark."

"Brotur Hawthorne?" Aristee cried, spinning toward one of the drive control officers. "We need to jump in thirty seconds."

"Captain," the XO called. "Count one-eight-seven bandits closing. Range: two-one-two-seven three Ks. Velocity: three-eight-nineKPS. Dralthi fighters. ETA: fifty-four seconds… mark."

"They've sent in their fighters to tie up ours, so we can't interdict the missiles," Paladin said. "We couldn't scramble enough fighters in time anyway."

"And there's no way we can jump in thirty seconds," Drive Officer Hawthorne said, tearing fingers through his shaggy hair. "The containment field is only operating at ninety percent. If we jump now, we run the risk of an antimatter leak that would destroy the ship."

"Brotur Zimbaka?" Aristee said to the black man who had stopped Karista. "Can you reinforce the containment field?"

"We can."

"Very well. Do so." Aristee rushed over to McDaniel and placed an affectionate hand on the old man's shoulder. "Frotur, are you ready to input jump coordinates?"

McDaniel regarded the panel. "Computer, ready to receive NAVCOM coordinates for hopper drive jump?"

"Ready," came the NAVCOM's even voice. "Jump interphase point reached."

"Brotur Hawthorne?" Aristee said. "Engage the drive."

As the system's whirring turned into a riot of booms and bellows, Blair turned burning eyes on Paladin. How could a man whom he admired so much resort to something as heinous as this? What had happened to him?

Frotur McDaniel gesticulated wildly as he recited strings of coordinates as though they were songs, holding his vibrato on the last number in each set.

"Report on the field?" Aristee said to Hawthorne.

"Up to ninety-six percent, with no signs of leakage."

Blair looked to Zimbaka and the other two pilgrims. All winced and leaned back on the bulkhead, using their extrakinetic ability on an inanimate object. They would pay the price for their actions. Blair shivered as he remembered moving his cot and the sensation that effort had produced.

"Hey, Ace," Maniac said, edging closer to Blair. "Get ready to shield the jewels."

"Don't try-"

But Maniac was already halfway to the control panel, with fire from above tracking his steps and ricocheting off the deck. Blair dropped to his stomach but continued to watch as Maniac sprinted up behind Aristee, slid his arm around her neck, then turned to face the Marines as he slapped a palm on the side of the woman's head. "I'll break her neck," he shouted. "I learned the same way as you." Then Maniac cocked his head to Drive Officer Hawthorne. "Shut it down."

The man lifted shaking hands.

"Lieutenant, do I need to point out the obvious?" Paladin asked.

"It ends here," Maniac said.

"Frotur?" Aristee gasped. "Frotur!"

McDaniel touched a thin line of blood that trickled down from a dark, gaping hole near his temple. He turned his head a bit, an expression of helplessness and horror beginning to form before he suddenly slumped to the deck.

"Not him," Karista wailed. Oblivious of the Marines above, she bolted to the frotur's side and rolled him onto his back. She shut her eyes, placed a hand on his wound, then wrenched away as though shocked. "It's too late. I can't help him."

"The well is open," Hawthorne cut in. "Jump in eight seconds."

"Brotur Taggart," the XO beckoned from the comm monitor. "Second bearing on the missiles. They're moving into our gravitic field. Lead missile has already increased velocity by twenty percent."

"Launch countermeasures," Paladin ordered. "Rig the ship for impact."

"Belay that," Maniac said. "And abort the jump. Or she dies." He tightened his grip on Aristee's neck and dragged her toward Paladin.

The commodore nodded coolly. "You'll have to kill her, Mr. Marshall."

"I got a clean shot on him," one of the Marines exclaimed from the catwalk. "Just give me the word, Captain."

Shudders muscled through the bulkheads as the ship neared the gravity well. One of the monitors mirrored an image from the radar officer's station and showed the inverted V formation of red blips closing in, with a throng of smaller dots in tow. Blair felt the desire to act surge through him. But what to do? Stop Paladin? Maniac?

"Point of No Return velocity in five, four, three, two-"

A shot drowned out the drive officer's countdown.

And a curious look came over Maniac's face. He grasped his neck, then released Aristee and fell onto his rump. "Ah, shit."