Sirany spun the command chair about, facing her. “I said I’d surrender this. I’ll do it. I don’t agree with what they’re doing. But let me talk to Harun. Give Ehrran a chance to back up, for godssakes, Chanur, back off! Give ’em time to react, they have to have a way to save something!”
She clenched her hands on the leather of the chair arm, hit the control and turned it to face Sirany. No. Muscle reaction jerked her mouth. Stopped breath. Put a black ring around Sirany’s taut figure. Time, for the gods’ sakes, the godscursed fool, the fatherforsaking bastard-Pride, pride above the han, Ehrran’s precious face- A breath then. A sane breath. “All right.” Another. “All right. Let’s talk to the spacing clans. Let’s talk to Harun and Pauran and Shaurnurn and my sisters out of Chanur, and all the ships back there. They’ve arrested Banny Ayhar. The ships back there-they know what got them home. Tell them about Ayhar, tell them the rest of it, b’gods, we got it for them, the whole gods-be thing!” She spun the chair about, activated comp at that station and exhumed a log record. Accurately, first try. No one on The Pride was going to forget that date, that hour, that time.
Kshshti station: Ehrran trying to take Tully by force, kifish attack coming from two sides on the station docks, Akkhtimakt and Sikkukkut, Banny Ayhar’s dispatch to Maing Tol carrying a message from a threesided conference: herself, Jik, Rhif Ehrran.
Ehrran agreeing to go with them into kifish territory.
Second log segment: another date, another moment: exchange between The Pride and Ehrran’s Vigilance, kin-request for medical aid, denied, made contingent on surrender of Tahar crew from Chanur sanctuary. Granted when they logged a false emergency and got in touch with Aja Jin.
“Capsule it,” she told Sif. “Every hani ship out here. Then capsule the whole gods-be log and shoot it over to Gaohn hard afterward. Tell them beam it down to Anuurn archives. File petition for Ayhar’s release. Let’s see if for once, one time, the han can understand what’s going on out here. Put our wrap on that log transmission. There’s a lot we can’t say in front of kifish witnesses, but there’s by the gods enough there to hang that fool. Brake to standby reply.”
“B’gods there is,” Sirany said. “Sif. Send: Industry and all the rest. Slow to standby. Transmission follows.”
Alarm rang. The take-hold. The Pride prepared itself for braking. Other bodies hit the seats, Chanur crew, Haral and Khym and Geran, on upper decks and close enough to make
it to vacancies. Blind-tired. Gods, yes. Her own head was too heavy to hold up. Her hands shook on the boards. There was not a critical control she would trust herself to handle.
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.