"But it should not be me!" She wiped at her eyes, the bleakness returning. "It should be someone who is better than I. Bossman should have been the one for this."
He had to say something, anything. "Angel, it hurts, knowing that he's dead, but we've got to keep going without him. They need you on the Austin. You've got the talent for working with people." He searched for the reasons he'd given the Commander for recommending her, and gave them to her, earnestly. "You can be a leader, which Knight can't. You can make people do things because they want to, not because they've been ordered, which Ice can't. You've got things—qualities—that us rocket-jockeys just don't share, things that make you a leader, and us the guys in the fighters." He continued in a quieter voice. "And you care about the people around you, which matters more than anything."
"Why didn't you ask for this position yourself?" she asked, bewildered, but whether she was surprised by his vehemence or the circumstances, he couldn't tell.
He shook his head. "What, me in charge of a bunch of pilots? You've got to be crazy, sweetheart. Why, that'd be like putting Maniac in charge of a squadron! Someone would have to be a complete lunatic to do that!" He smiled gently at her. "No, you're perfect for this, and you know it."
He sat up abruptly in his chair as the loudspeaker in the Rec Room began to blare noisily: "All pilots, report to the Briefing Room immediately."
"How 'bout you, lady?" he asked.
She shook her head. "Non, Colonel Halcyon did not want me to fly any more missions today."
Good for the Colonel. "Will you be all right, sweetheart?"
She nodded, slowly. "I think so," she said quietly. "Thank you, Hunter. For—everything."
He stood up, and then impulsively bent to kiss her. "I'll look for you later, okay?"
I can guess why Halcyon didn't want her to fly any missions today, he thought, walking briskly toward the Briefing Room, and just as pleased that the adrenaline charge was still holding. He was going to pay for this later, but that was later, and this was now. Besides, maybe the medics could give him a shot or something to supercharge him. That ought to make up for the green goop. Old Hale knows that if he sent Angel out right now, she might deliberately try to get herself killed. Survivor guilt, that's what the psychs call it.
He thought back about the wingmen he'd flown with, and how he'd felt when Littlehawk had crashed on the Flight Deck after they'd both been shot up badly during a Vega mission. He'd seen the fireball as he was on final approach to the carrier, and had aborted his landing run just in time to avoid becoming part of the disaster. He couldn't remember exactly how he'd felt when he had finally landed several hours later, after they'd cleared the debris off the Flight Deck, but he remembered that he'd done nothing but drink for the next few days after that.
He grabbed a seat in the back of the room. Spirit was seated next to him; he leaned close to her and whispered, "What's going on here? I thought we were off duty after two back-to-back patrols! I was going to get some sleep!"
"You didn't hear the news?" she whispered back. From the look on her face, he didn't think it was good news.
"What news?" he asked, not wanting to know, but aware that he needed to know.
"Five carriers, three light cruisers, four tankerships, and at least eight corvettes jumped into the system in the last hour." She looked as if she hardly believed it herself. "The Tiger's Claw and the Austin are retreating out-system while we wait to hear from Confed High Command as to what we're supposed to do next."
He felt as if someone had just hit him with a bottle, and the adrenaline drained right out of him, leaving him numb with shock. "What in the hell is going on here? This is a backwater system, there isn't anything here the Kilrathi could want!"
Spirit shook her head. "No one is saying what's going on, Hunter. But the brass knows. They've been closeted with that renegade Kilrathi captain, talking about all of this."
Retreat—He'd just been thinking about that. And what it meant. "And we can't abandon the Firekkans! They're a peaceful species, they don't have a navy or any planetary or space-based defenses. They're going to be helpless against a Kilrathi invasion!"
"Shh," she whispered, as Colonel Halcyon strode up to the podium.
The Colonel looked as exhausted as any of them, or even more so. "As all of you have already heard, we lost Bossman this morning. He died heroically, giving Angel enough time to warn us that this system is being overrun by a huge number of Kilrathi ships, who are arriving here for a Kilrathi religious ceremony called the Sivar-Eshrad. There's no way we can fight that many ships, so we are in the middle of a strategic withdrawal, but we are not abandoning the Firekka System. The Firekkans are evacuating as many of their people as they can, and we'll assist that in any way possible. As soon as we have enough reinforcements, we'll start taking on these Kilrathi forces directly.
"But until then, we're going to use a different tactic. Some of you may have heard about Hunter's joyride out to the Austin earlier this morning…"
Hunter studied the ceiling intently as the other pilots turned to look at him.
"… because of the success of his tactics, we're going to use the Dralthi fighters in our next missions, to confuse and evade the enemy," the Colonel said. "The technical crew aboard the Ras Nik'hra is readying the fighters for us now."
"Like hell!" Hunter swore, loud enough that the Colonel paused to glare at him. "I'm never getting into one of those pieces of junk ever again—sir!" he added politely.
The Colonel sighed, then continued, pretending that he had not heard Hunter's outburst. Which was just as well. It would be hard to get High Command to uphold a court-martial for insubordination on a pilot who had already flown back-to-back missions and narrowly escaped a crash to boot.
Hunter knew that; so did the Colonel. So did everyone else. "These are the wing assignments. Knight and Iceman are Alpha Wing—"
Chapter Seven
The Dralthi fighter slowed as it banked through the clouds, tilting down toward the main Firekka continent. Hunter glanced at his sensors, double-checking that there were no Kilrathi ships in the area. He'd passed a couple Kilrathi heavy troopships on his way in, parked in orbit above, but no other ships.
They're off trying to find out where the Tiger's Claw is, he thought soberly. I'll have to be damn careful on my way out of here, that I don't lead them back to the Claw and the Austin.
It was still night as he brought the Dralthi in for a landing on the shuttlecraft field, with just a hint of golden light touching the edge of the horizon. A heavy wind blew across the field, making the Dralthi wobble unsteadily as he set it down. The wind was hot and dust-laden, stinging his face as he crawled out through the bottom hatch.
Several Firekkans were wheeling down to land around the Dralthi. For a moment he thought something was wrong with them, they were moving less gracefully than he'd seen them fly before. Then he realized why, as the heavy assault rifles slung over the Firekkans' chests were brought up to aim at him.
"Hey, don't shoot me, mates!" he said, raising his hands above his head. "I'm here to see K'Kai. You know K'Kai? K'Kai?"
They glared at him suspiciously, their beady eyes blinking as they stared at him over their assault rifles.
It'd be real stupid to evade all of those Kilrathi patrols and get here just to be shot by some of K'Kai's people, wouldn't it? he thought. "Come on, mates, just let me see K'Kai, all right?"
Finally one of them nodded, and gestured with the rifle for Hunter to start walking.
Hunter stopped at the edge of the field, looking across the rope bridge at what was left of K'Kai's hometown, silhouetted in the early morning light. The tall, elegant towers that he had admired so much before were now scorched and blackened, marked by dozens of explosions. Half the towers were missing the top portion of their expanses, others had awful holes blown out of them.
The sight made his heart ache, made him yearn for a Kilrathi ship in his sights with all missiles ready to fire. The Firekkan beh
ind him prodded him in the back with a rifle barrel, and he started across the woven bridge, which had somehow survived the attack.
The Firekkans brought him to one of the tall towers. He ducked inside the entrance, looking around.
One Firekkan lay on the floor, his torso wrapped in bloody bandages. Another Firekkan knelt over a third, applying bandages to a wing that was torn nearly in half. Hunter swallowed, looking away.
"Hun-ter?" a familiar voice said from above him.
K'Kai dropped down to the floor in front of him.
He was relieved to see that she seemed to be unharmed, except for a small bandage wrapped around her right thigh.
"Hello, K'Kai," he said.
She canted her head to look at him curiously. "Why are you here, Hun-ter? All the other Terrans have gone from Firekka."
"I borrowed one of our captured Drakhis and flew through the Kilrathi fleet," he said. At her alarmed look, he added, "Don't worry, they're used to me doing that kind of thing by now. It was a long flight here from where the Tiger's Claw is hidden, but the Dralthi's little nuclear powerplant held up just fine." He shifted awkwardly. "I just… I had to see you again, K'Kai. We're evacuating from this system. The brass knows why the cats are trying to capture your planet now, it has something to do with a weird religious ceremony of the Kilrathi. There's nothing we can do, and the Confed won't send in any reinforcements. Oh, they've got some crazy plan of sending down some Marines to crash the Kilrathi party, disrupting the religious ceremony. But they won't give us enough troops to defend your planet."
"I know, Hun-ter," she said quietly. "Your dip-lo-mats, they told us this before they left Firekka. The Kilrathi have already landed here," she continued. "Two days ago, here and on the northern continent. We fought them off, using the weapons given to us by your people, but they will be back. Eventually they will win… my people are good fighters, but not against the technology of the Kilrathi."
"Come with me, K'Kai," Hunter urged. "I'll take you off-planet, get you out of this mess. You know what the Kilrathi are going to do to your planet and your people, once they start landing here in force."
"And that is why I must stay," she said firmly, raising her head on her long neck. "I am coordinating the evacuation, sending as many of our people to safety as we can. Many of the flock leaders are dead. My people are often confused, frightened. This is my home, Hun-ter… I cannot leave here, not now. Not when they need me."
"I understand," he said, slowly, knowing she was right—and was showing a lot more responsibility than he would have. "But I wish you'd reconsider. You know that there's only one way this fight can end."
"I know." K'Kai bobbed her head, opening her beak in a silent Firekkan laugh. "But we will make it as costly for the Kilrathi as we can." She glanced through the open door at the brightening golden light. "You had better go, Hun-ter. The Kilrathi attack us at dawn, always. We will go to shelter soon."
He clasped her clawed hand. "Take care of yourself, K'Kai."
"Farewell, Hun-ter," she said. She walked with him out of the tower, standing at the tower entrance as he trudged toward the parked Dralthi.
She was still standing on the barren rock when he lifted, the Dralthi wobbling in the heavy winds. He held the fighter in an unsteady hover for a long moment, looking down at her, the solemn profile of the alien woman, standing tall and proud, then kicked in the Dralthi's engines. The Dralthi leaped upward, gaining acceleration as it arced up through the atmosphere.
He saw the wing of sixteen Jalthi approaching, the Kilrathi fighters' wings weighted down with their bomb-loads. They passed by him at top speed, banking down for their attack run on the planet below. For one quixotic moment, he thought about turning on them, but knew that he'd never manage to kill them all or even survive the attempt. K'Kai's duty was with her people; his was on the Claw, and to live to defend it. Hunter held the Dralthi on course, heading back into open space toward the distant Tiger's Claw. He glanced back at the planet of Firekka and rubbed at his eyes.
They were still stinging, and a moment later, they were running.
It was the dust that was making his eyes tear, he decided. Nothing more.
He wasn't crying.
He couldn't be crying.
The rest of the flight back to the Tiger's Claw was uneventful. Hunter didn't sight any other Kilrathi ships, which was fortunate… he didn't think he'd be able to keep himself from opening fire on them, if there was even half a chance he could do it and survive.
The time stretched out endlessly as the Dralthi fighter soared through open space. I'm going to catch hell for this when I get back on the ship, he thought. They're probably wondering what happened to me, why a two-hour patrol has taken me twenty hours. I'll have to do some fast talking when I get back.
But that shouldn't be too much of a problem. The Colonel was used to it by now.
He nodded, imagining the exact words the Colonel would use. It would probably be a rather choice speech. The Colonel had an excellent command of the English language, and knew exactly when to use it. And somehow Hunter seemed to bring out the—best?—of it.
He was going to deserve a dressing-down, even he had to admit it. But hell, the Colonel seemed to secretly enjoy it all, though Hunter was sure he'd never say that. Colonel Halcyon would probably be bored to tears if he didn't have Hunter around to keep things interesting on the Claw!
After hours of navigating across the system and past enemy patrols, he began his final approach to the Claw's hidden position in the asteroids.
Except that the carrier wasn't there.
Surprise.
The punch-line from a comedian's joke sprang into his head. I was born in Chicago. My folks moved to New York right after I was born, and it took me months to track them down.
Don't panic, he told himself, looking around wildly at the drifting asteroids. Check the Nav charts, maybe I made a mistake. I could've miscalculated my course, the ship is probably close, somewhere nearby in these rocks. Just don't panic…
He ran a quick computer calculation on his course, triangulating his position.
No. He was in the right location. The Claw wasn't.
He fought the impulse to scream, or hyperventilate, or pound his head against the side of the cockpit. None of that would help him much in this situation. Oh God, they've jumped out-system and left me here. I'm stranded, no way to get back to Vega in this little fighter, I can't jump and follow them out-system, I've got nowhere to go.
His heart pounded, and suddenly he wasn't tired at all. Just in a total state of panic. That was all. Calm down. Just stay calm, mate. Think this through, you've got to make some good decisions here. One, I can turn around and head back to Firekka. K'Kai's people can probably hide me somewhere, until… until… hell, it could be years before the Confederation comes back to Firekka! God knows how long it'll take for those fat-assed idiots at Confed High Command to decide what to do about our feathered friends.
And in the meantime, the Kilrathi will be swarming all over that planet. Odds are that I'd get captured eventually and sent to some hellhole of a prison camp…
His stomach turned over at the thought; it was always a fear that had hidden in the back of his mind, that he could be captured by the enemy. Anything but that. I'd rather die.
Or…it's several hours to the jump point out of this system. Maybe the Claw hasn't jumped out yet. If I fly like the wind, maybe I can get there in time.
His hands moved quickly, setting a new course for the jump point. His hands were shaking, but he ignored that, bringing the Dralthi up to full speed on a direct route to the out-system jump. He was too tense to sit back and let the fighter fly itself on AutoNav. Instead, he switched through the Confederation comm channels continuously, searching for any sign that there were other humans in the system. There was something else he'd noticed: the air gauge slowly drifting down into the red zone.
If they aren't there, I won't have enough breathable air to get back to Firekka. The fi
ghter's nuclear engine's good for another million klicks, but I'll be out of air in a few hours.
I could turn around right now, head back to Firekka… no. I'll take that risk. Just don't leave me here alone, mates… please, don't leave me here—
Two hours later, he was approaching the jump point. His stomach sank as he realized that there was no sign of the Claw ahead of him.
I'm dead now. I'm still living and breathing, but I'm dead. I should just take off my helmet and pop the hatch, and get it over with.
The comm screen suddenly crackled into life, a woman's face speaking sharply in English. "Kilrathi fighter, identify yourself immediately or be destroyed!"
What? Oh God—oh God! Thank you thank you thank you—"I'm Captain Ian St.
John! Don't leave without me, mates!" He scanned the space around him desperately… there! Off to starboard, coming in from a different Nav course, was the Claw, shining silver and green with the carrier's bright red numbers visible on the metal deck in front of the landing bay. He'd never seen anything so beautiful in all his life.
"Land immediately, Captain, we are on final countdown for out-system jump!"
"Yes, ma'am!" Hunter brought the Dralthi up to full speed and then punched in the afterburners as well, aiming for the ship. He skimmed over the Claw's deck and the huge numbers, heading directly toward the landing bay like a bat out of hell. At the last instant, he slammed on the reverse-brakes.
Never tried this particular trick before. I sure hope it works!
The Dralthi screamed at the punishment as the fighter decelerated sharply in the space of a couple seconds. Hunter aimed the ship toward the open landing bay, hoping that there was no one parked in his path.
The Dralthi's top scraped against the ceiling of the Flight Deck, then bounced hard against the deck floor. Hunter fought to keep the craft from rolling, and kept full pressure on the brakes. The fighter slowed, bounced again, then settled down onto the Deck. A split second later, he felt the gut-wrenching twist of a Jump.
Wing Commander: Freedom Flight Page 13