Wing Commander: Freedom Flight

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Wing Commander: Freedom Flight Page 4

by Mercedes Lackey


  "Try drink called 'Firekka's Finest.' Miss your bottles, you will not."

  Species didn't seem to matter; wherever there were fliers, there seemed to be a bar. This bar was certainly different from any he'd seen before, though. For one thing, it didn't have much of a floor, or chairs. Firekkans were perched every few feet on branches woven into the tower, extending up into the shadows a hundred feet above him. Only the bartenders were on the ground level, flying up to carry drinks to the customers. They had made some concessions for the human guests, though… there were several dozen hammock-like seats slung at various intervals up the tower, where humans were drinking and chatting with the Firekkans.

  He craned his neck a little, wondering how he was going to recognize K'Kai; he'd never seen any more of her than rather blurry face-shots on the vid, and had heard her voice only via comlink. And at the moment, every Firekkan looked like every other Firekkan to him. With a sigh, he walked to the closest ladder—doubtless also installed for the convenience of the humans—and began climbing.

  Though they'd never actually been physically present in the same place, he'd "met" the Captain on patrol; she was flying a freighter. That had been something of a surprise. He'd been assigned as her fighter escort, and over the course of the trip, he'd found out quite a bit about her and her "flock." And though they'd never met face-to-face… or face-to-beak, in this situation, they'd talked for hours over the comlink.

  Firekkan social groups were fairly large as a rule, consisting of a matriarch and all her immediate relatives. But K'Kai was something of a maverick—which so far as Hunter was concerned, gave her a lot in common with him. She'd no sooner been introduced to the concept of spaceflight than she had broken away from her own family flock—much to their horror, he had no doubt—and presented herself at the spaceport, demanding to be trained.

  She'd proven to be quite a pilot; she'd made that old freighter move in ways he'd never suspected it could—and in ways that would have had a human pilot looking for the air-sick bag. Hunter suspected that being a flyer by birth probably helped her there, since she'd been born with a natural aptitude for it. Before very long, she'd been joined by other misfit, oddball Firekkans, all of them looking for a way off-planet and out into space. Pretty soon she had her "flock"—and she was a matriarch of a freighter crew. She trained them herself, and Hunter knew for a fact that the other birds were just as good as she was, if a little on the strange side.

  But that still wasn't going to help him pick her out of this crowd—

  A piercing whistle made him grab his ears, and then grab again for the safety of the ladder—and a whirlwind of feathers and clattering beaks descended on him as he dropped his haversack.

  Not that it mattered—one of the birds grabbed it before it hit the ground; the rest started pawing him—roughing him up—

  No, he realized, after a moment of panic. No, it's okay. I remember now—He tried to relax under their questing claw-tips, running through his hair, poking into crevices in his clothing—

  This was the Firekkan greeting of affection—like getting hugged by a bunch of friends, or so he'd been told. It was really ritualized grooming—a search for bugs and lice so that an honored friend would not be plagued by pests during a visit.

  Oh yeah? What about the feathered pests? He tried not to wince as those sharp claws poked his scalp, and came awfully close to his eyes—

  One of them was starting to groom his eyelashes when another sharp whistle, this one not nearly so loud, made them finally break it off. Another Firekkan pushed her way into the flock—she was clearly female, both by virtue of her drab coloring and her larger size. And he realized then that he could never have mistaken this bird for any other; by the grin-gape on her beak, and a certain rakish good humor in her eyes, this could only be K'Kai herself.

  "G'day, K'Kai," Hunter said, holding onto the ladder with one hand and reaching out to ruffle her feathers in what he hoped was a similar greeting to what he'd just endured.

  "Kep-tain Sain' Dzon! Hun-ter!" She leaned in very close to study his face from three inches away. Hunter fought the impulse to pull away, remembering that he was hanging off a ladder roughly twenty feet in the air, and fast movement was definitely not a good idea. I wouldn't wager that one of these bird-beasties could catch me if I took a nose-dive off this ladder…

  "Come come, sit with me!" K'Kai pulled one of the hanging hammock-seats closer to the ladder for him. Hunter grabbed it and hauled himself into it. K'Kai let go of the chair and it swung out over the open floor, nearly slamming into a Firekkan carrying several drinks. The Firekkan shrieked something shrilly in their own language and neatly ducked out of the way, continuing to fly toward the top of the tower. K'Kai shrieked something right back, and the Firekkans nearest them bent over backwards, beaks clattering. At first, Hunter thought they had been hit with some kind of fit… then he realized they were laughing.

  Hunter held onto the chair with both hands until it slowed to a stop, hanging out over the floor twenty feet below. He hoped that she couldn't see his whitened knuckles. Hell, she saw you take on four Jalthi single-handedly, he thought. Don't let her think that you're afraid of heights now!

  It's not the heights I'm afraid of, or even falling. It's just that sudden stop at the bottom….

  K'Kai opened her wings and soared to the closest perch, several other Firekkans following her a moment later, all taking perches slightly lower than hers. She canted her head, looking at him closely. "So, Hun-ter, you are very diff'rent than I expected. Not so tall."

  No great surprise, that… every Firekkan in the bar was at least a foot taller than himself. Seven-foot parakeets, not six-foot like Shotglass had said. "You're not quite what I expected, either. But it's good to be here, to meet you. I was wondering if I'd ever see you again, after we left Vega."

  "It is… it is…" K'Kai struggled for a word. "I do not know how to say it in your language. Something that was meant to happen?"

  "Fate," Hunter said, searching his jacket pocket for a cigar. "Destiny, maybe. You believe in destiny?"

  K'Kai ducked her head down between her shoulders in something that looked like embarrassment. "I should, but I am not very religious."

  Hunter nodded. "Yeah, me either. The only thing I really believe in is my own flying skills, and my ship, and the fact that the Kilrathi will always try to shoot it out from under me. Speaking of combat flying… have you ever thought about training to be a combat pilot?" It was something he'd been thinking about since they'd met back in the Vega Sector, after he'd seen her fly that damned freighter in a series of tighter turns than he'd ever thought was possible, boxing in the Jalthi to force it directly in front of Hunter's guns. With a wingman like this lady, I could take on the entire Kilrathi fleet, he thought. "You ever think of going for Confed pilot training?"

  K'Kai tilted her head, as if considering it for the first time. "I have never thought of it, no. But the idea is pleasing. Do you think I could be good at it, Hun-ter?"

  He laughed, a short, sharp bark. "You'd be amazing at it, lady. I'd take you as my wingman any day of the week." He fished in his pocket for his lighter, and lit the cigar.

  "What is that thing in your mouth?" K'Kai was staring at it with unfeigned curiosity. Some of the other Firekkans also leaned in close to look, as Hunter exhaled a large cloud of aromatic smoke.

  "A cigar," he explained. "Uh… dried tobacco leaves. You burn it and inhale the smoke. It's relaxing, like drinking alcoholic beverages. It isn't good for you, though… I'd say that smoking will kill me eventually, but I'm sure the Kilrathi will get me first."

  "Al-co-hol does not affect us," K'Kai said. "We drink kika'li. It is made from the kika seeds, mixed with al-co-hol to bring out the natural flavor of the seeds. Firekkans like to eat kika seeds, which are very tasty and draw away any stresses or pain from us. And the human diplomats like kika'li too, because of the al-co-hol in it. So now the Red Flower serves it to the humans. They call it Firekka's Finest. Would you li
ke some?"

  "Sure," Hunter said. Anything would be better than drinking water… considering what fish do in it.

  K'Kai whistled again, sharp and loud. There was an answering whistle from below. She gave Hunter another curious look, and scratched herself on the back of her neck with an extended claw. "How long will you be on Firekka, Hun-ter?"

  "I have leave for the next three days," he said. "Then I'm back on patrol duty."

  "Good. So I can show you my home. This is the first time I have been home in several rotations. My crew and I…" She gestured at the hovering flock of wide-eyed Firekkans. "We have been too busy to travel home, too many important cargoes to deliver for the Confederation. But for the treaty-signing, I knew I had to be here. I saw the first Terran ship land on our planet many rotations ago, and now I will see our planet join the Confederation. It is a great moment for us, a good time to be alive."

  "Your family is important in local politics, aren't they?" Hunter asked. "I remember you mentioning something about that back in Vega, and later I saw a newsvid about Firekka on the Tiger's Claw. They talked about you and your crew, and that your family are major local honchos."

  K'Kai blinked. "Hon-chos?"

  "VIPs. Politicos. Ah…" He searched for the right word. "Flock-leaders?"

  K'Kai's beak opened wide, the same gesture that Hunter recognized from the customs officer. "Yes. My sister leads the largest flock on Firekka. She is the Teehyn Ree, the leader of flock-leaders. It is she, with the other flock-leaders, who agreed to the treaty with the Confederation diplomats. She will sign it tomorrow for all of Firekka."

  "Your sister, eh? Does this mean that you'll inherit the family flock someday?" Hunter asked.

  The Firekkan was silent for a moment before answering. "No, her daughter Rikik will claim the flock. I am too… too different for them to choose me as flock-leader. Better for me to pilot a freighter for the humans than try to lead a flock here."

  There's more to this than she's willing to talk about, Hunter guessed. I'd wager that K'Kai's leavetaking of her home planet was a little more spectacular than what she's said so far. She was one of the first of her people to leave her planet, she and Larrhi… the newsvid people always talk about them as great heroes, as brave adventurers, but no one ever asks the question, "Why?"

  And something else occurred to him. How would a species whose entire culture was based on flock-behavior regard someone who left the flock? As a kind of trail-blazer—or a traitor?

  Another Firekkan with a brightly-colored head-crest flew close to them, slowing enough that K'Kai could take the tall tubes from his hands. She handed one to Hunter, who looked at it curiously. The tube was made of a plant of some kind, hollowed out to hold liquid. Whatever was inside the tube smelled spicy, a little like jalapeno peppers.

  K'Kai raised her "glass" in a silent toast to him, and drank.

  He took a careful swallow, and gasped for breath as the fiery liquid burned a path down his throat and into his gut. It was hotter than hell, like drinking the juice of a cayenne pepper. A moment later, the alcohol hit his system like a brick.

  "I can… I can see why humans like this stuff," Hunter said, trying to remember how to breathe. The stuff is at least a hundred proof. And I think it just burned out my taste buds, he thought wryly. But good, damn good. He drained the last of the drink, feeling like he'd drunk several stiff shots of whiskey mixed with a gallon of Tabasco sauce.

  K'Kai had already finished her drink, and was now chewing on the empty tube. Her beak was open in what he now knew had to be a Firekkan grin.

  "Another round of drinks for K'Kai and her crew!" Hunter called down to the Firekkans below, following it with a shrill wolf whistle.

  K'Kai's eyes widened. "That whistle-sound… do you know what it means in Firekkan?"

  "Probably the same thing it means back on Earth. More drinks, mates! This round's on me!"

  Hunter vaguely remembered ordering more drinks after that, as the rest of the evening blurred into too many sights and sounds and rounds of Firekka's Finest. K'Kai's flock helped them down from their perches in the bar so they could continue the evening elsewhere, watching the midnight ceremonies in the Fire-Temple as Firekkans flew in intricate patterns around the roiling flames, graceful and delicate as any Earth ballet.

  Then back to the Red Flower for refills. "Another round of drinks for my mates, bartender!"

  Over more tubes of Firekka's Finest… Hunter had lost count of how many drinks at this point… K'Kai told him about the night races through the nearby canyons. They had to see it, of course. The intricate obstacle course was lit by spluttering torches, and the racers had to touch the wooden poles of the course with a dab of paint as they passed. Occasionally they'd miss the mark and paint would fly up onto the ledge where the spectators watched.

  Speckled with bright blue and red paint, K'Kai finally gave in to the urgings of her crew and flew down to the beginning of the course. Hunter cheered with the rest as K'Kai flew a perfect race, easily beating the rest of the competitors. She accepted a leather thong with some kind of winner's token with an embarrassed ducking of her head, her victory marred only by the fact that she was wobbling on her feet from too much Firekka's Finest.

  The only solution to that, Hunter said, was to drink more!

  The sun was rising over the Firekkan towers by the time he and K'Kai staggered out of the Red Flower again. Her crew had long since wandered off, flying unsteadily to their nests. Hunter blinked at the bright sunlight. "Is it always so bright here in the morning?" he grumbled.

  K'Kai leaned against the tower wall for support. "Time for sleep, Hun-ter. I will take you to the Visitor's Nest, where there is a hammock-bed waiting for you, and a solid perch for me."

  "Sounds great. Heavenly. Do we have to walk far to get there?"

  There was no answer from K'Kai. He turned to look for her, and realized that she'd vanished. No, not vanished… only slid down to a sitting position against the wall.

  "Come on, my feathered friend," he said, hauling her up to stand wobbily on her clawed feet. "Let's find a place to crash."

  Somehow they managed to walk to the Visitor's Nest, and Hunter fell through the large doorway with a sigh of relief. Some thoughtful individual had set out dozens of large pillows for the humans on the floor, with a few perches for Firekkans above. With another sigh, Hunter stretched out on a couple of pillows, and was asleep… or unconscious… a few seconds later.

  There was a pair of boots in front of him. With a woman's body above the boots, neatly garbed in a uniform. A hand shook his shoulder—gently—but the room tumbled around him as if he was going through a stress-test. "Captain St. John?"

  He blinked, trying to focus on the young woman's insignia. For some reason, his eyes weren't quite working right. The insignia came into focus after another moment of staring at it. Military Police, Shore Patrol. Oh, hell. Now what've I done?

  "Captain St. John?" the woman asked again.

  "Thas—that's me," he said. "Wha' is it?" He tried to get up on one elbow, felt his stomach heave, and gave it up as a bad idea.

  "Your leave has been revoked by Colonel Halcyon," she said, slapping a piece of paper into his hand. "You are to report to the planetary shuttle immediately and return to the Tiger's Claw for further instructions." She surveyed him, not bothering to hide her amusement. "Do you need assistance in walking to the shuttlecraft, sir?"

  "No, I can walk… I think." He managed to get up into a sitting position as the room decided to do a spin; he waited for it to steady, then looked around the nest for K'Kai, and spotted her perched on a branch a few feet away. The Firekkan was listing slightly to starboard on her perch, he saw, but otherwise she looked in better shape than he was. "K'Kai, it's—it's been great," he said. "Sorry about this, but duty calls. I'll try to come back downside, though."

  "We will meet again, Hun-ter," K'Kai said gravely, looking down at him from her unsteady perch. "I know we will."

  "The shuttle, sir,"
the MP said impatiently.

  "Later, K'Kai," he said, waving at her. His stomach lurched; he closed his eyes and concentrated on controlling it.

  Her Highness is just gonna have to wait. Can't rush these things…

  With his eyes still closed, he felt his way up the wall, pulling himself slowly to his feet. Every time he moved his stomach lurched again, but finally he stood erect and opened his eyes triumphantly.

  The MP caught him as he overbalanced and started to fall.

  He clutched his stomach as it heaved again, and felt the blood draining out of his face. The MP sighed, picked up his haversack, and slung his arm around her shoulder, half-carrying him in the direction of the shuttlecraft.

  Chapter Three

  "Did you have a nice shore leave, Captain?" said an unfamiliar voice.

  Hunter, slumped on the ground in the line for the shuttle, looked up blearily. By now he was almost used to the way that his surroundings started to spin every time he moved his head. Now if only his stomach would get used to it…

  It was the young blond tech, of course, looking like he'd had plenty of sleep the night before. Hunter squinted at him through the waves of pain emanating from both temples and meeting just over his nose. He wanted to growl. No one should look that alert and—and—healthy. It just wasn't right.

  "You look a little under the weather, sir," the tech said, his eyes sparkling, but his expression sober. "Are you all right?"

  The kid's voice seemed awfully sharp. And it sounded like he was projecting, or something. "Don' talk so loud, kid," Hunter muttered, searching his jacket for a cigar. A good smoke, that's what he needed right now. His head felt like someone had stuffed it with cotton and then started playing bongo drums on it, and his stomach… he didn't want to think about his stomach at all. Definitely not.

  The kid grinned and took a breakfast sandwich out of his backpack. It was still steaming in its clear wrapper. Hunter watched in nauseous shock as the kid bit into the sandwich, and bacon grease dripped down the side of the sandwich. The spicy smell of jalapeno peppers and bacon hit Hunter's nose an instant later.

 

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