Chanur’s Homecoming by CJ Cherryh

A low mutter of stats and capacities. Industry was far and away the strongest; little Starwind was fast enough, engines large enough with its light mass to send her right up into Industry’s rating. Shaurnurn’s Hope put them only a little down, and Pauran’s Lightweaver only a shade under that. But The Star of Tauran was far under. Likewise Vrossaru’s Outbounder.

“You know,” Pyanfar said, “Tauran, Vrossaru. We can slow down and make your rate; it’ll cost us. You understand what we’re facing. I’m going to ask you-I got to ask-”

“We’ll get there,” Sirany Tauran said. “Our own way.”

“No. Power down. Mothball at dock. I know it’s risking your ships; so’s the trip home. Listen. My crew’s blind tired, strung out. Tahar’s little better. I can take Tahar on The Pride-” Instant glower from Dur Tahar, but no word. “Or one crew can go with me and work alternate; other with Tahar. Get us all there alive and precious days faster.”

Work alternate with a pirate? Bloodfeud and outlawry. She all but heard the scream. But:

“You can keep an eye on us,” Tahar said in a low voice. “Split shift or whole. Whatever suits you.”

“All right,” Vrossaru said. “We’ll take you on.”

Tauran looked at Pyanfar’s direction. Thoughts went throughher eyes. Aliens. Gods know what. And maybe on the other side: That Chanur ship’s got priority protection from the kif. And it’s fast. It’ll get us there alive. And we’ll be sitting where we can do some good if they’re lying, won’t we?

“All right,” Sirany Tauran said. “Soon as I can get my crew off. We got seven. You got berths?”

“We’ll find ’em.” Does she know about Khym? Pyanfar’s muscles clenched up and let go again. Gods be, we got worse problems than hani prejudices. “Thanks.” They had reached Moon Rising’s berth. And Aja Jin and The Pride beyond, all with departure warnings blinking urgently above. “We get those stats relayed ship to ship, right, down the line, direct transmission. We have to share specifics with our kifish escort, no choice. Let’s get ourselves out of this port, we don’t want anything intervening and we got gods know what going we don’t know where.”

“Understood,” Harun said. “Luck to us.”

“Luck,” Faha said. “Gods look on us.” And with the appearance of a shudder, she looked at Tully and his dark-robed partner. Perhaps in that instant of afterthought she wanted to take that pious wish back. But that would have been an embarrassment. “Hearth and home,” she added, and with monumental charity: “and whatever.” With a physical effort.

Then Munur Faha started on ahead, her own ship farther on; other captains followed, Harun and Vrossaru with a backward look, Vrossaru’s ears flat in dismay.

“Tahar,” Pyanfar said: and Tahar stopped there at her own dock. So did Tully and Skkukuk. “Jik,” she said. Jik and Kesurinan stopped, too, within an easy sprint of Aja Jin’s berth. “We got it worked out,” Pyanfar said. Which Jik and Kesurinan might not have heard, they had been talking too intensely and too urgently all the way back. Passing instructions, fomenting conspiracy. Gods knew what.

But Jik left his First and came back to her, his dark face all sober. “Where I go, a?” He held up both hands. “Want back? Or you tell me go?”

“Gods rot you, what are you likely to do? Leave us? Get us all skinned? Kill my world with your conniving?”

Sikkukkut’s kifish ignorance had let this hazard loose: Dispose of Keia as you will.

Now it came to a bluff she could not call, force she could not use, persuasion she knew would not work. To haul him aboard The Pride even by strong pressure now would set Kesurinan off, trigger gods knew what contingency orders.

“I do number one good back there.”

“I got no way to trust you!”

“I got interest like I say.” He reached out and laid his hands on her shoulders. Stared into her eyes, and she stared up at him, looking for something to rely on. Liar. Ten times a liar. Your gods-be government won’t let you tell the truth once a day. “Hani got importance, Pyanfar. I swear. God witness.”

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