“You got it,” Haral said. “Tully, output! Talk to humans, got it?”
In the case there was anything back there to talk to. All kinds of com ready-lighted, human channel, mahendo’sat, kif, hani, while that dopplering ghost that was Tahar’s Moon Rising came ahead pouring fire at a single target, savvy and deliberate.
“This is the mekt-hakkikt Pyanfar Chanur: Akkhtimakt is fallen and Sikkukkut has run here pursued by a thousand enemies who are my allies, hammered between mahen forces and the unity of han. In this pukkukkta I give you a chance, Chakkuf, Nekekkt! You’ve served us well on this voyage. You have my favor now! Hani ships and mahendo’sat, be sure of your targets! Harukk is your target, and any other ship which fires in our direction! Make no mistakes! Kifish ships, run from this system and my agents will hunt you down even to Akkht! Join us in this hunt and become among the first of my skkukun, all of you strong enough to maintain your place! Hani, fire your loads and scatter!”
This while The Pride belched out all the missiles and all the fire it had; while a deluge of fire converged from the ships in formation. Something came over com, overhead, general address: a hani voice, a familiar voice:
“Here’s from us, you godsforsaken motherless son of a nightwalker! Hearth and blood! from me and my crew!”
“Tahar!” Pyanfar cried. “Gods rot you, I forgive you!”
A timelag off in messages. The kif had only limited fire-sweep aft, because of its own vanes, and it had to track a ship whose missiles were only scantly lagged behind its com-wave, the difference between realspace V and lightspeed. Tahar’s missiles hit: others were still incoming from all points of the sphere.
“Chanur, mekt-hakkikt/” another voice came blasting into her ear. “/ am here, behind you, praise your foresight! Our ships are coming!”
“Whose in a mahen hell is that? Is that Skkukuk?”
“It’s coming from Nekekkt,” Hilfy said.
“Time to get out of here,” Pyanfar cried, “transmit, hani ships: Scatter, scatter.” She reached and rang the collision warning for the Tauran crew off in the galley, kicked The Pride bow-nadir and threw in the mains with all they had.
It was all they could do to evade return fire, some ships rising, some going wide, some diving systemwise, like the blooming of some vast flower, each as they finished their load of missiles and got down to the beam guns. Tirun kept the guns tracking as they dived, firing for all they were worth.
It was still forward motion they made; but it was angular, kiting along skewed and hurling all the energy the mains had to give to that slew toward nadir.
Gods grant-
“Hai!” The whole ship banged and slewed violently, so that the course was different than it had been- “What’d we lose?” she yelled. “Gods rot it, what blew?”
“Vanes-” Tirun started to say.
Second impact, like the loudest thunder that ever cracked: the ship jumped sideways and a whole panel started flashing red. A small black body went hurtling and hit the wall, a black blur til it hit: it scrabbled right across the top of the control panel and Pyanfar swallowed and spat a red spatter that shocked her as much as the sound, only then feeling what her teeth had done to the inside of her mouth. “Gods fry that kif bastard-you all right?” The cursed black thing was as terrified as the rest of them, fellow in misfortune. It ran and screamed in rage: she did not even hit at it when she had the chance. There were too many switches for two hands, too many systems over to backup and third backup and past. ”Damage report, gods rot it!”
“Chur,” Tully’s anxious voice came. “Chur!”
“We lost the whole vane, I think it slewed down into the mains.” Tirun’s voice, hoarse and breathless. And the firing of the guns resumed, re-aligned to the new track, while gods knew where they were going.
“Priority,” Geran said, “we got fire over us-our kif are moving, the mahendo’sat are moving-we’re clear of it-”
“Industry’s bad hit,” Hilfy reported. “Khym-Chur-”
“I’m with you.” Chur’s own voice, weak as it was.