Generation Warriors

by Anne McCaffrey

  "Tim and that shuttle!" Arly said. "I forgot him. Comm, get us a link!"

  Tim had the yacht's position and the Ssli flicked the cruiser in and out of FTL space in a minute jump that put them well in range. Her weapons officer reported that the yacht lacked anything to penetrate the cruiser's shields. Too bad Sassinak wasn't here. She would enjoy this. But she'd had the onplanet fun. Arly put their message on an all-frequency transmission.

  "FSP Cruiser Zaid-Dayan to private vessel Celestial Fortune. Going somewhere?"

  "Let us alone, or you'll regret it!" came the reply. "You're nothin' but a lousy little short-range shuttle tryin' to play big shot."

  "Take another look," suggested Arly and cut back the visual screens. "Do you want to argue with this?"

  She sent a missile past their bows, and heard a yelp from Tim on one of the incoming lines. A spurt of annoyance. He should have had sense enough to get out of the way.

  "Get that shuttle back in here," she told him.

  "Sorry, ma'am."

  "What do you mean, sorry?"

  "I . . . uh . . . It was the only way I could think of."

  "What did you do?"

  "I . . . locked shields with 'em."

  Arly closed her eyes and counted to ten. So that's why they hadn't gone into FTL yet. But it meant that blowing the yacht would mean blowing the shuttle, and Tim. Nor could he pull away. Locking shields was hard enough going in. She'd never heard of anyone getting back out, unless both ships agreed to damp the shields simultaneously.

  "Who's with you?" asked Arly.

  "Nobody," came the reply.

  From his tone he knew exactly what that meant. If Sassinak had been aboard . . . but one ensign, who had been unable to think of any way to impede the enemy but bonding to it? He was very expendable.

  "You suited up?"

  "Yes. But . . ." But what good would it do?

  Shuttles had no escape pods, for the very good reason that in normal operation they were useless. And being blown out of an exploding shuttle was a little more than hazardous.

  "I can flutter their shields, Commander. Give you a better chance of getting 'em with the first shot."

  "Dammit, Tim, don't be so eager to die."

  It would help, though, and she knew it.

  "I'm not," he said. Was that a quaver in his voice?

  He was not going to die if she could help it. But the yacht had meanwhile refused to cut its acceleration outsystem or change course. Its captain seemed sure he could make his FTL jump anyway.

  "Even if I do scrape a louse off our hide."

  "Do that and you're dead for sure. We've followed more than one through FTL flux." She flipped that channel off. "And why can't the blasted Thek help us now?" Arly demanded of the Weft at her side. "I hate the way they pick and choose. If these are the bigshots . . ."

  The Zaid-Dayan's proximity alarms blared. The artificial gravity pulsed. Arly swallowed hastily, clutching the arms of her chair. Small objects tumbled about and a dust haze rose, to be sucked rapidly away by the fans.

  "Do me a favor, Captain, and don't bad-mouth the Theks any more," said the Weft.

  This time he'd shifted completely and hung now from the overhead, bright blue eyes gleaming at Arly. Then he shifted back, leaving a mental image of strings of innards trailing down in a most abnormal way to reassemble into a living person.

  "I just said . . ."

  "I know. But you people complain all the time about how slow the Thek are and how they don't pay attention. You should rejoice that they're now paying attention and you've had a demonstration of how they can move."

  "Right. Sorry. But the yacht . . ."

  The Thek had absorbed all the yacht's considerable inertia, flicking Tim and his shuttle off as a housewife might flick an ant off a plate. When he hailed them, Arly could hear astonished relief in his voice.

  "Permission to land shuttle?"

  Should she bring him in, or send him back to FedCentral? A glance at the readouts told her the shuttle wouldn't make it back safely.

  "Permission granted. Bring 'er aboard, Ensign."

  And he did, without any hotdog flourishes.

  Arly looked around the bridge, and wondered if she looked as disheveled as the others. Far more ragged than Sassinak had ever looked, she thought. We'll have to get this place cleaned up before she sees it and everyone rested. But we still have to get back down there, just in case.

  Convincing the Dockmaster at the FedCentral Station that the Zaid-Dayan was not an agent of doom required the rough side of Arly's tongue.

  "We saved your tails from a 'catenated Seti fleet. And you're going to gripe at me because I left without your fardling permission?"

  "It was highly irregular."

  "So it was, and so were the Seti. So were the traitors in your system that wanted to let 'em in. It's not my fault you wouldn't believe the truth. Now you can let us dock or watch us sit out here using your station for target practice."

  "That's a threat!" he said.

  "Right. Going to take us up on it?"

  "I'll file a complaint." Then his face sagged as he realized to whom that complaint would go: Sassinak, now in command of the loyal Federation forces onplanet, Acting Governor. "It's all very irregular . . ." His voice trailed away into a sigh. "All right. Bays twelve through twenty, orange arm."

  "Thank you," said Arly, careful to keep her voice neutral. Never push your luck, Sassinak always said, and she felt her luck had been working overtime lately. "If you have any fresh forage for Bronthin, we have an individual in bad shape who's been a Seti prisoner."

  This the Dockmaster could handle. "Of course. With so much diplomatic traffic, we pride ourselves on keeping full supplies for every race in the FSP. Any other requirements?"

  "A Ryxi which is suffering from 'feather pit,' whatever that is, and a pair of Lethi who seem all right, although our medical team isn't familiar with Lethi."

  "Only two Lethi? That's very bad. Lethi need to cluster in larger numbers."

  "Plus a larval Ssli," Arly said. "It's complained that its tank needs recharging."

  "No problem with any of that," said the Dockmaster, suddenly cordial. "If you'll send the allied races to bay sixteen, that'll be the quickest access for our specialty medical services."

  "Will do." Arly shook her head as she looked around the bridge. "Can you believe that? He was willing to stand us off as if we were pirates, but he's got specialty medical teams for our aliens."

  Arly had been in communication with Sassinak for the past several hours. The situation onplanet had stabilized with the loyalists firmly in control, and only scattered pockets of resistance.

  "And I think most of that's confusion," Sassinak had said. "We're finding that many of the Parchandri/Paraden supporters had been blackmailed into it. Others just didn't know any better. Right now the Thek are calling for a formal trial."

  "Not another one!"

  "Not like that one, no. A Thek trial." Sassinak had looked exhausted. Arly wondered if she'd had any rest at all since her disappearance. "Another Thek cathedral is all I need! But considering what they've done, we really can't argue. They want those prisoners you rescued from the Seti, especially the Bronthin, Ssli, Weft, and Dupaynil."

  So now, docked at the Station, Arly saw these turned over to special medical teams. Soon they'd be on their way to the Thek trial. She wondered about the crew and passengers of the yacht Tim had trapped. But she wasn't going to ask any questions. Two experiences with fast-moving Thek were quite enough.

  It was impossible to overestimate the civilizing influence of cleanliness, rest, and good cooking, Sassinak thought. Back on the Zaid-Dayan, back in a clean uniform, with a stomach full of the best her favorite cook could do, with a full shift's sleep, she was ready to forgive almost anyone. Particularly since the Thek, in their unyielding fashion, had satisfied any remaining desire for vengeance.

  For a moment, she felt again the pressure of those most alien minds. And marveled that s
he had survived two terms in a Thek cathedral. Never again, she hoped. The judgment process might be exhausting but it served its purpose admirably.

  The guilty Seti were to be confined to one interdicted planet, guarded by installations whose crews were former pirate prisoners. Paraden family lost all its possessions, from shipping lines to private moonlets. Paradens and Parchandris alike were given basic survival and tool supplies, the same they had sold to many a colony starting up, and deposited on a barely habitable planet.

  With the single exception of Ford's Auntie Q. She lost nothing, for the Thek considered her a victim, not a Paraden, despite her name.

  And, thanks to Lunzie's partisanship and fierce arguments, heavyworlders were also considered victims. After all, they had been cheated by the wealthy lightweights who then blackmailed them into service. So the Thek required only that those conspirators in the governments of heavyworlder planets be expelled. The others, informed of the complex plot, were given shares in the liquidation of Paraden assets. They could use that to ease their lives.

  In addition, FSP regulations changed to allow heavyworlder migration to any world open to humans. But that did not include Ireta: the Thek would not change their earlier decision. Aygar had been consoled, finally, by the knowledge that he would have a chance to see many equally fascinating worlds. And enough money to enjoy them.

  Now the original team relaxed in Sassinak's office, with most of the tales untold and a long night ahead for telling them. Restored by a couple of sessions in the tank to heal his burns, Ford crunched another of the crispy fries. Sassinak met his eyes and felt indecently smug. They had private plans when the party broke up. He had told her just enough about Auntie Q and the Ryxi tailfeathers to whet her appetite.

  Dupaynil, though, had lost some of his polish. Specklessly clean, as usual, perfectly groomed, he still had a hangdog tentative quality that she found almost as irritating as his former blithe certainty.

  Lunzie, always tactful, had put aside her grief for Coromell to try to cheer Dupaynil up, but so far it hadn't worked. Timran, on the other hand, was indecently gleeful. He had taken the mild commendation she'd given him as if he'd been awarded the Federation's highest honor in front of the Grand Council. Now he sat stiffly in the corner of her office as if he would burst if he moved. She'd better rescue the lad.

  "Ensign, there's an errand . . . a fairly special one . . ."

  "Yes, ma'am!"

  "We're having guests; I'd like you to escort a lady from the Flight Deck in here."

  If anyone could settle a young man like Tim, it would be Fleur. He'd enjoy Aygar's student friend, too, and Erdra. Sassinak grinned wickedly at the thought of Erdra coming face to face with the reality behind her daydreams. She was no Carin Coldae and the sooner she quit playing games and went back to finish that advanced degree in analytical systems, the better. The riot had cured her of any thought that violence and glamor coexisted, and a visit to a working warship ought to clear out the rest of her nonsense.

  Lunzie would want to meet her relative-of-sorts, from the Chinese family. It had been extravagant, in several ways, to send her own shuttle down for them, but she felt it important to build respect for Fleet. No more restrictions on the movement of Fleet personnel, and no civilian weapons monitors, either. The Zaid-Dayan was, as it always should be, ready for action. Now, while Tim was gone, she could try to penetrate Dupaynil's gloom again.

  "I wanted to apologize to you," she began, "for pulling that trick . . ."

  "It was a trick, then, with the orders?" He brightened a moment. "I was sure of it. You used the Ssli, right?"

  "Right. But it was flat stupid of me not to know more about the ship I tossed you onto. I had no idea . . ."

  "I know." He looked glum again.

  "You said something about charges?"

  "Well, the Exec of the escort and I had to overpower the crew, put 'em in custody . . ."

  "On an escort? Where?"

  "In the escape pod in coldsleep. They were going to space me."

  Sassinak stared at him. He said it in a tone of flat misery entirely out of character for someone who had run a successful mutiny.

  "I'm sure we can get the charges dropped. If anyone's dared filed them," she said. "Especially now. I've had contact with Admiral Vannoy, back at Sector, and he's rooting out the traitors around Fleet."

  But that didn't cheer him up as it should have. Clearly impending charges weren't the burden he carried. Lunzie caught her eye and made a significant glance at Ford, at Dupaynil, then at Aygar, Sassinak let one eyelid droop in a near-wink.

  "Ford, if you don't mind, I think I'd like a grownup to supervise that reception. Aygar, you might want to be there to greet your friends."

  Aygar leaped up while Ford stood more slowly, grinning at Sassinak in a way that almost made her blush.

  "You ladies take care," he said, with his own significant glance at Dupaynil. "No squabbling."

  Then he left, shepherding Aygar ahead of him.

  "Now, then," said Sassinak. "You've been brooding about as if you were about to be stuck in Administration forever. So, what's the problem?" She thought for a long moment he would not answer, then it burst out of him.

  "It's ridiculous, and I don't want to talk about it."

  Lunzie and Sassinak waited, saying nothing. Dupaynil looked up and met Sassinak's eyes squarely.

  "I was so furious with you for pulling that trick. For getting away with that trick. I dreamed of outfoxing you again, coming back with what you needed, but making you pay for it. Then I had to escape those . . . those pirates on Claw, and realized that I didn't know one thing about actually running a ship. Panis had to train me as if I were a raw recruit. But I still thought, with what I'd found, that I'd have a chance of returning in triumph. A good story to tell, all that. But then the Seti . . ."He stopped, shaking his head, and Sassinak and Lunzie stared at each other over his bent head.

  "What did they do?" asked Lunzie.

  Sassinak was thinking that it was a good thing they'd died before she'd had the opportunity to skin their scaly hide off their live bodies.

  "Arly didn't tell you?"

  "She said you looked pretty dilapidated when you came aboard, but you wouldn't go to Medical—" Her skin crawled as she thought of reasons why he might not, which could explain his present mood. "Dupayail! They didn't!"

  This time he laughed, a genuine if shaky laugh. "No. No, they didn't actually do anything. It was just . . . Have you ever seen a Seti shower?"

  What did that have to do with anything? "No," Sassinak said cautiously.

  "It sprays you with hot air, grit, and more hot air," Dupaynil said with more energy than she'd heard from him yet. Bitter, but alive. "I'm sure it's what keeps their scales so shiny. Probably takes care of itchy little parasites on a Seti. But for a human, day after day . . .

  "And then I had to stay in that blasted pressure suit for days." His expression brought a chuckle to Sassinak; she couldn't help it. "I'd planned on strolling in, cool and suave, to hand you what you needed. Instead, I was stuck in a stinking pressure suit in a crowded compartment full of terrified aliens where I could do not one damn thing, and had to be rescued like any silly princess in a fairy tale."

  "But you did," said Sassinak.

  "Did what?"

  "Did do something. Kipling's corns, Dupaynil, you got the warning to us. You had evidence the Thek used."

  "They could have got it straight from those slime-buckets' minds."

  "Well, if the Thek hadn't been there, we'd have needed it. After all, they asked for you at the trial. They needed your evidence, too. I don't know what more you could want. You escaped one death-trap after another, you got vital information, you saved the world. Did you really think anyone could do that without getting dirty?" She thought of herself in the tunnels, even before Fleur's disguise.

  "I wanted to impress you," he said softly, looking at his linked hands.

  "Well, you did." Sassinak cocked her head at
him. "Impress me? Was that all?"

  "No." She would never have suspected that Dupaynil could blush, but what else were those red patched on his cheeks. "When I was on Claw, when I realized what you'd done, and I was so mad . . . I also realized I wanted . . ."

  It was clear enough, though he couldn't say it.

  "I'm sorry." That was genuine. He had earned it. She couldn't offer more. Her joyful reunion with Ford had revealed too much to both of them.

  "Sorry!" Lunzie fairly exploded, her eyes sparkling. "You nearly get the man killed, he has to take over a whole ship, and then he saves us all from a Seti invasion, and you're just sorry!" She looked at Dupaynil. "She may be my descendant, but that doesn't mean we agree. I think she ought to give you a medal."

  "Lunzie!"

  "You wouldn't think so if you'd seen me getting off that shuttle." Dupaynil said. "Ask Arly."

  "I don't have to ask Arly. I can see for myself." That came out in a sensuous purr. Under Lunzie's bright gaze, Dupaynil's grin began to revive.

  Sassinak regarded her great-great-great with affectionate disdain. "Lunzie, I know where I inherited some of my propensities." If Lunzie stayed interested, she gave Dupaynil only a few more hours of freedom.

  "Meow!" Lunzie stuck out her tongue, then leaned closer to Dupaynil.

  Whatever else she might have said was interrupted by the arrival of the others: Fleur, who had worn one of her own creations in lavender and silver, Aygar and Timran in the midst of the students. Erdra, Sassinak noticed, wore the same kind of colorful shirt and leggings as the others. Perhaps she had grown out of her wishful thinking already.

  "Have you?" Fleur asked, drifting close a little later, as the conversation rose and fell around them.

  "What?"

  "Grown out of your past?"

  Sassinak snorted. "I grew out of Carin Coldae a long way back."

  "You know that's not what I mean."

  Sassinak thought of Randy Paraden's face, the instant before the Weft killed him, and of the faces of the other conspirators in the Thek cathedral. She had looked long in her mirror when she came back aboard, hoping not to find any of the marks of that kind of character.