There was still no sign of the Lieutenant, but his image formed on her vidscreen. "Spirit, I'm on one guy's tail! Can't break now!"
"Youngblood, there are too many of them! Form on my wing, we have to get out of here!" She had a clear run now that the fighter attacking her was destroyed, an open path back to the asteroids. No fighters would be able to intercept her before she was in the dubious safety of the asteroid field. At least if she was in the rocks they wouldn't be able to use their superior numbers against her. In the asteroid field they'd have at least a small chance of surviving this ambush. "Youngblood, do it now!"
"Spirit, I nearly have missile lock… I've almost got tone…"
"Damn it, Youngblood!" Spirit yanked the joystick hard to bring her fighter around in a tight turn. She couldn't leave him behind, even though she knew she was probably committing suicide by trying to save him.
She lined up for a missile lock on the fighter that he was pursuing, listening for the tone before firing. The shrill lock signal wailed in her ear, and she punched the missile a moment later, already turning to head back toward the asteroid field. "He's history, Youngblood! Now get on my wing!" she shouted over the com.
"Damn it, that was my kill, Spirit!"
"Get on my wing, Youngblood, or we're both dead! Can't you see that they're launching more fighters, you idiot!"
Looking aft, Spirit saw the heat-seeking missile following the lone Kilrathi as he twisted and dove, trying to break the lock. A moment later, there was a bright flash as the enemy fighter exploded. Youngblood steered into position on her left wing as they ran for the asteroids.
Too late, Spirit saw, looking back. There were at least a dozen enemy fighters moving toward them. They'd be overtaken before they were in the asteroid field. Spirit tried to breathe slowly and calmly, watching the enemy ships approaching in her aft view. The Kilrathi were only a few hundred meters behind the two Terran ships when they blossomed into an attack formation, banking in from all sides to target them.
She felt the vibration of the engines straining at the base of her spine as she flew at top speed, willing her Raptor to leap across the remaining distance and into the rocks…
The first two Kilrathi ships tilted down into position behind them, angling for cannon targeting. She saw the burst of cannon fire a moment later, and rolled her fighter to avoid it. "Roll left, Youngblood!" she shouted into the com, knowing that he probably wouldn't have time to react.
The laserfire caught his fighter on the edge of one engine, which exploded in a hail of sparks. Youngblood's fighter spun helplessly out of control, back toward the Kilrathi fighters closely pursuing them. Two of the Kilrathi rolled sharply to avoid the damaged Terran fighter; the third crashed headlong into it. The explosion burned white-hot in her eyes, blinding her for a moment to everything else. The Shockwave hit her fighter a split-second later, and she punched the afterburners, fighting hard to keep control of her craft.
Youngblood's image was still on the monitor, frozen in mid-word. His eyes were wide with surprise and horror as the image fizzled out a moment later.
Damn them! Spirit kept her thumb on the afterburners, knowing that her only chance now was in speed. If I can get into the cover of the asteroids, there's still might be a chance to get out of this alive.…
"Hey, sweetheart, what's up?" Hunter's voice came through the com a moment before his face appeared on the screen.
"Hunter! Where are you?" She glanced at the radar, and saw the blue blip that was his ship on the edge of the screen. Too far away to help….
"I'm in the asteroids, heading toward your last known position. If you can get into the rocks, lady, we can take on these bastards. I'm readin' five tailing you, with some more coming in from those cruisers."
"Hunter, don't do this! Head back to the Claw, you can't help me now."
"Hey, you're not giving up on me, lady! What, y'think you can have a cat-chasin' party without me? Just get into those rocks, I'll be there in another minute…"
She hit the edge of the asteroid field at full burn, flying on pure instinct and luck. The rocks were going past her at a blur… she dodged and weaved a path through the rocks, yanked the 'stick down to duck under one asteroid. There was an alien scream over her headset and another explosion as one of the Kilrathi impacted against rock she had just avoided.
Cannon fire scorched past her right wing; she swung left into the thickest of the asteroids, slowing her speed just enough so she could dodge the rocks.
She glanced down at her 'scope, and saw Hunter's blip, moving toward her at top speed. Just a little further… a little further…
The wail of a missile lock warning ripped through her ears. She looked back to see the missile closing in on her, homing in on her engines. No time to dodge, no time to do anything, even scream…
She slammed on the brakes, reversing the engine to come to a hard stop and then killing the engine at the last second. The sudden stop shoved her forward, then back into the pilot's chair so hard that she thought she was going to black out, but the heat-seeking missile sailed past to explode harmlessly against an asteroid. Behind her, the Kilrathi banked to avoid a collision… they're learning, she thought grimly… then the three enemy fighters swerved to come in for an attack run.
Spirit punched on the Raptor's engines… for an awful second, all she could hear was the splutter of her ship's engines as they failed to ignite. Then they roared back into life and she hit the afterburners. She was beyond the diving Kilrathi a moment later, using the asteroids to block their weapons' fire. But she knew she couldn't play this game forever… soon they'd maneuver to box her in, to force her in front of their guns, and it would be over.
She banked up and over one asteroid, down and around another spinning rock. The Kilrathi tried to flank her, then one of them broke formation to close on her tail. She swerved left, but not before she heard the warning wail of a missile lock. In another split-second the Kilrathi pilot would fire.
Another Terran fighter soared past her, barely five feet away from her cockpit, the Rapier firing all guns directly at the enemy craft on her tail. Through the cockpit, she caught a glimpse of Hunter's wide grin. Then her fighter shook with the explosion of the Kilrathi that had been tailing her. Glancing aft, she saw the fragments of the enemy fighter drifting in all directions.
The other two Kilrathi panicked, realizing that what had been an obvious and easy kill was now even odds again. Spirit yanked the 'stick in a hard turn and let fly a friend-or-foe missile at one of the Kilrathi at point-blank range, braking, right to avoid the resulting explosion. The last Kilrathi shrieked something in his alien language on her vidscreen as he crashed into an asteroid in his attempts to avoid Hunter's deadly aim.
"You all right, sweetheart?" Hunter's helmeted face appeared in her vid. "Are there any other cats after you?"
She nodded. "Yes, but we have time to get out of here, if we move fast. The other pilots will have to find us in these asteroids."
"Top speed back to the Claw, Mariko. What about Youngblood?"
"He did not survive."
"Damn." Hunter sighed. "Let's get moving, lady. We have a report to file at home base. Any idea why two cat cruisers decided to take a ride through this system in the middle of nowhere?"
She knew what he was thinking. What in the hell are they doing here? She only wished she had an answer.
"No idea. But I am sure we will find out soon, Hunter-san."
The Briefing Room on the Tiger's Claw was filled to overflowing with pilots and other officers. Hunter and Spirit had to fight to get into the room and find a place to stand. And all I want to do right now is go get a cold brew, Hunter thought. Damn, but Spirit is still pale and shakey. That was too close.
And Youngblood. The kid didn't have a chance, from what Mariko was saying. I'm glad I sent Jazz Colson back to base… with our luck, he would've tried to be a hero too and we'd have two dead kids on our hands instead of just one.
Colonel Halcyon, loo
king more harried and grey-haired than usual, worked his way to the front of the room to stand behind the podium.
"As most of you have heard, every single patrol ran into a serious Kilrathi presence in this system," he began with preamble. "Tactical has no idea why the Kilrathi are arriving in this system in these numbers.
"Until we have some answers, we'll need to fly constant patrols to make certain that there are no surprises moving in on the Claw and the Austin. That means twenty-four hour on-call duty for all pilots, with no more shore leaves."
A muted groan went through the assembled crowd. I hope I at least have a chance to talk to K'Kai again before we leave this place, Hunter thought. But why in the hell are the Kilrathi moving in on this system? What could they want with Firekka?
To descend upon the family nest with her own flock in tow—or to go alone, proud and unashamed of her own individuality. That was the choice that faced K'Kai now. The invitation had been issued this afternoon, the first since her break with WhiteFlower flock to go to space. Now, she had to answer it.
It was a choice she would have to make within the hour. The humans said that the Kilrathi were on the threshold; how soon until they pushed their way into the system? When that happened, her freighter would be in constant use, ferrying supplies for their human allies. She would have to make her peace with her family now, for the freighter would be a prime target for the Kilrathi. She might not get another chance.
K'Kai did not want to think about the possibility that the Kilrathi might actually invade the nestworld. It was easier to do as her people had always done; deal with the current troubles, and leave the future to tend to itself. The doctrine of the Flame Winds taught that the universe was in a constant state of change, and any one of those changes could completely negate anything that had been planned. So there was no point in planning things in too great a detail; it was better to ride the winds as they came.
The current trouble she faced now—reconciling with her family. That could not be left undone, in the face of what was coming.
The flock was more important than any individual; that was what she had always believed. And yet, there was another, lesser-known tenet of Firekkan belief—not of the Flame Winds, but of the Living Spark.
The acts of a leader shape the flocks. The acts of a leader shape the future. And the brilliant leader was more important than the wishes of the flocks, who might be mired in the past. The rebel might be the only one in the flock with vision, a vision that could bring the flocks to new feeding grounds—metaphorical, or actual.
K'Kai's idol Larrhi, the first Firekkan to leave her planet, he who now flew fighters for the Confederation forces—had he been a brilliant leader, or an aberrant rebel? And she, who followed in his wake, followed his flight to the stars, what was she?
She had gained a flock. Enough to fully crew a freighter.
Was she a leader? Or was she simply a rallying-point for more unnatural rebels?
She thought she was a leader—for that matter, she was certain that Larrhi was. But what did others think of her?
That was what she needed to determine. And if she could, change their minds.
She decided to go without her flock; as herself. After all, it was no secret that her flock existed—and if she went with them, it might be perceived as a power-play, bringing in her adherents to tip the balance of power in the family flock.
So she contacted the WhiteFlower messenger and told him she would be coming for a short visit at mainmeal time, then ordered a complete shakedown of the freighter; it would need such a thing soon anyway, and if the conflicts within the system increased, there would be no time for one. That would keep her fledglings busy; busy enough that they would not miss her for a few hours.
She waited in her command chair on the bridge, one specially adapted to an avian form, and as much supporting perch as chair, watching her energetic flock through the monitors as they stripped and polished, checked and replaced, repaired and repainted. When they seemed to be completely wrapped up in their work, she left the bridge as if she were going somewhere else within the ship—but instead, she left the ship altogether, still in her adopted uniform, and headed for the WhiteFlower family tower.
She was met by her father, which was a good omen, and conducted to the family roost by not only her father, but by most of the younger members of the flock. And from the conversation over mainmeal, her "defection" from WhiteFlower might never have happened.
So—they had chosen to ignore her strange behavior rather than deal with it. In a way, that was heartening. At least it meant that the flock had not chosen to consider her as being cast out.
K'Kai was patient, as patient as anyone who had to deal with the humans must be. If it took time for them to come to terms with what she had done, so be it.
But after mainmeal, she was fair game for the entire flock. The flock-dance that followed gave any of them ample opportunity to accost her when the patterns of the dance left her roosting until her turn came around again.
There was always the same question: "Everything we need is here—why go out there? Where there are no winds to carry you, and you do not fly on your own two wings but inside a steel egg?"
She tried to answer them; tried to convey her dream, which had begun when she learned that Larrhi, a Firekkan male, had left their planet for the stars. Tried to explain her own excitement with sailing the invisible winds between the stars, the power and delight in trusting herself to something larger and infinitely stronger than she was, and making it do her will. Tried to show them the thrill of seeing what no Firekkan had ever seen with her own eyes before. But she knew it was hopeless; even her own crew had trouble grasping some of what she felt. They were often as completely Firekkan in their outlook as the most orthodox of WhiteFlower flock. Sometimes she thought that the only difference between her flock and WhiteFlower was that her collection of misfits had responded to something she could not calculate—her charisma, or her enthusiasm, perhaps—and had chosen her as their leader instead of someone with less of a presence.
Finally, she dropped out of the dance and took a perch a little out of the way of the rest. She watched her relatives swirling in the decorous patterns, lost in something that was older than anyone had been able to trace. Perhaps it even went back to their days of pre-sentience.
Perhaps that was why she was unable to lose herself in those patterns. She was one who made patterns, not one who followed them.
"Aunt?" came a small, soft chirp from below her. "May I come up, Aunt?"
She looked down, her thoughts disrupted. It was her young niece, Rikik, still in her juvenile plumage. K'Kai whistled her approval, and Rikik flapped awkwardly to a perch beside her.
"What can I do for you, brancher?" she asked, fondly, giving her niece the title of one about to leave the nest.
Rikik roused her feathers with pleasure, and preened to cover it. "Tell me about flying the spaceship," she said, eagerly. "Tell me about the stars."
Well, that was a new request, and one that K'Kai was quite willing to grant. She did her best to give her niece the answers to every question, describing the thrill of spaceflight and likening it to creating a new dance; recounting some of her experiences among the humans and others. Rikik drew closer, prompting her aunt to groom her affectionately as she continued her stories.
Finally Rikik sighed and drooped on her perch. "I would like to fly off into space as you are," she said wistfully. "I would like to see these metal nests that the humans make—to look out and see the stars so bright in all that night-dark. I would like to be like Larrhi…" She sighed again. "It cannot happen, though."
K'Kai nodded sympathetically. Already Rikik's mother had chosen this fledgling to succeed her as WhiteFlower leader, and presumably as leader of the massed flocks as well. K'Kai knew her sister only too well; if it had been Kree'Kai that had been the leader when K'Kai had made her bid for freedom and space, there would be no Firekkan-crewed freighter now. It was impossible to get
Kree'Kai to change her mind once it was made up, and she was the most orthodox of any Firekkan in K'Kai's acquaintance. There was no spaceflight in Rikik's future—not unless politics required her to make a flight as a passenger. And even then, it would be as brief a journey as could be arranged.
K'Kai saw the disappointment in her niece's eyes, and preened her carefully as a wordless expression of sympathy. But before she could say anything, Kree'Kai spotted her niece conversing with her renegade aunt, and called her back to the dance with an irritated squawk.
And a look that could have left scorched feathers, if K'Kai were not impervious to her sister's looks already. But the encounter left her feeling very depressed, and before long she took her formal leave and returned to her ship.
As she mounted the ramp to her ship, she realized that she felt more eagerness to return there than she had been to return to the WhiteFlower nest. The ship felt more like home than the nest did.
And that only left her wondering, as she took her perch in the command chair with real relief, and saw that her flock was still hard at work at their tasks. Was this what Larrhi felt?
And would she ever be truly accepted—or feel comfortable among her own people—again?
Chapter Four
"We are ready for final jump into the Firekka System, my lord," the Pilot Officer reported. "Your orders?"
Ralgha nar Hhallas spoke quietly. "Engage jump engines, Officer. As soon as we appear in the Firekka System, do not launch fighters for reconnaissance, but perform a full sensory scan of the immediate area."
"My lord? You are certain that you do not wish us to launch fighters?" Kirha asked politely from his station.
Ralgha wanted to laugh, but kept his face set in a serious expression. That was Kirha's way, of course, always the one to delicately point out his lord's mistakes, without ever inferring that they were actual mistakes. Ralgha felt a small glow of pride, as though Kirha was one of his own cubs. It was unfortunate what he must do; Kirha could have had an excellent future as a warrior in the Emperor's service.
Wing Commander: Freedom Flight Page 6