But it was a lot of space. And if the kifish bastard did some fancy maneuvering at Kura they might just come in nadir.
Or they might already be there, having short-jumped. That thought set the hair on end all down her back: Sikkukkut or gods-knew-who might be out there and by now inbound, well knowing the position of everything in the system.
“Take the count. Mark.”
“Mark.” Haral started the clock running. “Tirun. Na Khym. We’re on the count.”
“We’re on our way,” Tirun’s voice came up from lowerdecks.
“Put Khym in his cabin? It was where he belonged.
No. Give him that. We’re not going to get out of this one
the same as we got in. The last time, husband. I think this crew knows it.
“Hilfy’s just called,” Geran said. “She’s on her way to the ramp. With Sif and Fiar. Not a scratch on ’em.”
“Got that.” A muted murmur of relief across the bridge. The lost were found. Hydraulics sounded below, as Haral opened up the lock from the board.
/ ought to wish she missed the ship. I wish she had. Gaohn’s got a better chance than we have.
The airlock sealed again. The Pride took back its own.
“We’re on count,” Geran advised the new arrivals. “Get up here.”
Six minutes.
“Captain-” From the Tauran comtech. “We got contact with Ehrran’s Vigilance.”
“Give it here.” Pyanfar punched the button when it lit; and her gut knotted. “This is Pyanfar Chanur.”
“Captain.” The voice that came back was cold and neutral. “This is Jusary Ehrran. Acting captain. Vote has been taken on this ship. We will act in system defense. We will go to Kura vector.”
She looked aside at Haral, at a flat-eared scowl.
“Gods-be earless bastard,” Haral muttered. Bloodfeud: there was no doubt of that. With an Immune clan. They could not decline that, or their offer of help. “Covering their gods-be ass.”
“We got no graceful way, have we? You want to leave ’em docked at Gaohn?”
“Captain-” The tech again. “Ayhar’s on. Prosperity. They’re aboard.”
Bad news and good, like opposite swings of the pendulum. The whole universe was confounded. She punched in on the indicator, the first one still blinking. “This is Pyanfar Chanur. Banny, I owe you a drink.”
“You owe my whole crew drinks, you notch-eared old dockcrawler, first we get back to port.”
“You got it, Banny. Take care, huh? I’ll get you sequence in a minute here.” She cut out and punched the other. While quietly, a little murmur among the crew, the rest of them arrived, Tirun and Khym, Hilfy and Fiar and Sif. There was
sorting-out going on, Chanur crew prioritied to seats. “He’s got ob-2,” she heard, Geran’s voice. Definitively. A murmur from Khym. A Tauran voice, quietly. And Tully and Hilfy. It was all getting arranged over there. “We got a prelim sequence here,” Haral was saying, likely to her sister Tirun. “Central’s passed control over to us, we got the say.” And into the microphone: “Vigilance,” Pyanfar said. “This is Pyanfar Chanur. Stand by your sequence.”
“Understood,” the acknowledgment came back. And: hearth and blood, she heard unsaid, under the chill, precise voice. Later, Chanur.
“We’ll cover you same as the rest,” Pyanfar said.
A small delay. “We appreciate that, Chanur.” Grace for grace. The woman had some positive qualities. Then: “This is your fault, Chanur.”
“We’ll see you in the han, Ehrran.”
The com-telltale went out.
The power came up, the undocking sequence initiated. Familiar sounds. There was a great cold in her gut and an ache in her side. A sequencing flicked up on number one screen. She keyed affirm, and it flicked off: flashed out to all the ships via Central.
Fortune and Light were going wide out on either side of their formation; her own group contained the ships she had come with: Industry and Shaurnurn’s Hope, Starwind and Pauran’s Lightweaver. And ships that had run with Fortune and those that adhered to Ayhar’s Prosperity each to those captains’ discretion-a great number to Prosperity, with more on the way. Ehrran’s Vigilance took farthest sweep, nadir. Not the hottest spot. The catcher-point. The one to take the strays.