The Kif Strike Back by CJ Cherryh

“That’s before we even get there,” Haral said. “I’m betting there’s more surprises in that system that kif doesn’t want to show us.”

“Not taking that bet,” Geran said.

There was no jump-point on their way to Kefk, no point of mass where three ships up to no good could come in, go dead silent and rest and sleep a while. The route was just two stars in each other’s gravitational influence; The Pride would ride its own jump field and Kefk’s pull directly in with a vengeance. Three stars, counting Mkks and Kefk and Kefk 2: Kefk was a close binary; and that made for difficult navigation at best.

“Six ships go in with Sikkukkut, Jik, and our friend Rhif,” Tirun said. “We get the tailguard post.”

“Alone with seven kif,” Geran said. “Gods, what a party.”

“Beats going first.”

“How much interval we got?”

“Not by the gods enough.” Haral took furious notes and Pyanfar’s comp slot spat out a paper.

All she could think of was sleep, the chance to lay her aching bones on a mattress and let her mind go … while they sat on a kifish dockside with a kifish strike force likely inbound at their backs from either of two enemies . . . kifish authorities at Harak or Akkhtimakt’s ships off by Kshshti. They hoped Akkhtimakt was no closer than Kshshti.

Gods only knew. If an attack caught them like this, if Akkhtimakt came to Mkks before they left or got up to speed, they were sitting targets with their nose to station and no way to get up to V in time-the same thing they had done to Ihirukk and all its allies.

It took no mindreading to know the practical reason why Jik wanted out of Mkks in a hurry.

But other things occurred to her: like the chance Jik knew things he was not saying, about operations in progress elsewhere; the absolute surety that Sikkukkut did.

There is fire, hani. From Llyene to Akkt to Mkks. Even Anuurn..

Even Anuurn.

And Vigilance agreed to join in an act of unvarnished piracy.

I surmised correctly that you would follow me, hunter Pyanfar, as soon as your ship could move.

So why us? Gods and thunders, what have we got either side wants but Tully? And Sikkukkut gave him back. Jik could have laid claim to him. And Jik backed off.

Why did Sikkukkut want ms in this?

Kif in the washroom. Kif all about. Threatened lawsuits pouring in, because a hani merchant was easier to sue than a han deputy or a mahen hunter ship; and, gods knew, the kif.

“We just got a transmission from Vigilance,” Haral said. “Official notice we got a complaint filed.”

“Tell ’em eat it.”

“Captain.”

“No, don’t tell them that. Acknowledge.” She shifted her attention to another board where a systems check had just blinked clear. “Number two vane is clean.” She verified Tirun’s check, punched the test of number three and got back to the Kefk system data.

The schematic showed armed guard stations. Three of them at Kefk. And the robot navigation beacon in the jumprange gave no inner-lanes data to incoming ships until it got a ship ID; and if it disliked what it got, it would blank out entirely. That meant dumping speed early to avoid collision, and risking collision even at that reduced velocity. And without that incoming V they were sitting targets for anything those guard stations decided to throw at them. Gods, it was lunacy.

“It’s sure something to run with clean equipment,” Tirun said. “I’d gotten used to alarms.”

“Huh.” Pyanfar read an incoming schedule on screen two, blinked it clear, rubbed her right ear. The letters separated in a green haze and came back again. Not a complaint from the crew. A hani male sat over there bone-tired and working keys and grumbling in his throat in a kind of mindless reflex moan that occasionally became a mutter: poor Khym, too well-bred to swear like the rest of them, and doing a crewwoman’s job with a woman’s steady concentration, side by side with Geran. “Give me your information,” his litany ran, impeccably delivered. “I’ll get it to the appropriate officer.”

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