Wing Commander: Freedom Flight Page 2

  Hassa climbed the steps, looking out into the street. She turned back to Ralgha, too slowly to be casual, and walked down to where he waited.

  "There are Imperial soldiers outside my house," she said quietly. "Ralgha, you must go. They will doubtless search here next, when they realize I am not in my home. Something must have gone wrong."

  Fear for her, and anger, made his voice into a growl; his claws extended, and his neck-ruff rose. "But what of you, Hassa?"

  She raised head and tail proudly. "I am a priestess of Sivar, sworn to his glory. I will not run away or hide, there is no honor or courage in that." She touched the ritual knife sheathed at her belt. "If they come for me, I will be ready."

  He could say nothing; his instinct urged him to stay and fight at her side; his duty told him to go.

  She gave him a long, searching look, as if trying to memorize his face. "Go now, and quickly. Deliver our message and your ship to the humans, Ralgha." She pointed to the other exit of the amphitheater, a small doorway that led into the twisting warren of the streets of the Old City. A moment more, as conflicting urges warred within him, then duty won. He turned to go.

  The door opened on silent hinges, and Ralgha slipped through. Beyond the vine-covered alcove, the street was deserted. Ralgha strode away from the amphitheater as a squad of soldiers, dressed in uniforms with the black sigil of Imperial Security, marched past him toward the main entrance to the Temple of Sivar.

  Ralgha walked quickly through the darkened streets, never once looking back.

  On the bridge of the Ras Nik'hra, Kirha checked the weapons list one more time. "More heat-seeking missiles," he said, tapping his claw on the offending item. "At least twice as many heat-seeking missiles. Do you want our pilots to run out of missiles when they're flying against the humans?"

  Did you think I was so young and inexperienced that I would overlook that mistake? Kirha thought with contempt. No, I have studied with the finest officer in the Emperor's service, and Lord Ralgha nar Hhallas would never let his pilots go into combat with less than the ordnance they require. "Attend to this immediately," Kirha said aloud.

  The Ordnance Officer bowed to him, walking away. "And do it quickly, we are supposed to depart within the hour!" Kirha called after him, putting an edge of anger into his voice. The officer doubled his pace as he hurried off the bridge.

  Kirha subvocalized a growl, and prowled the bridge. "Has anyone seen Lord Ralgha?" Kirha asked the under-officers taking their places and making their pre-flight checks. "He should have been here by now."

  The Pilot Officer bared his teeth as Kirha moved past him. "Perhaps they haven't let him out of prison yet," he said, a hint of something Kirha could not read in his voice.

  Kirha spun, his claws at the Pilot Officer's throat before the other officer could react. He could feel the other's pulse beneath his pad-tips, beating very quickly. "Do not speak so of Lord Ralgha, if you expect to survive this expedition," Kirha hissed. "He has been mistakenly accused; he will be acquitted of this false stain upon his honor. He will be here in time. I know he will." He released the officer's throat, leaving several welling points of bright red blood on the other Kilrathi's brown fur. "Attend to your duties, officer."

  "Of course, sir." The Pilot Officer bowed, rather unsteadily, and turned back to his computer console for his pre-flight checks.

  Where is Lord Ralgha? Kirha asked himself, his stomach stretched tight and hard with tension, looking around at the flurry of activity aboard the crowded bridge. He must be here soon, he must…

  The lift doors opened, and Lord Ralgha nar Hhallas strode onto the bridge, his cloak fluttering behind him. Immediately, Kirha felt his stomach relax. The commanding officer was here; all was well. The world was now proceeding as it should.

  "Khantahr on the bridge!" Kirha called, and immediately knelt before his superior officer. The other officers knelt as well, as Ralgha surveyed the bridge. "Who is the new Pilot Officer?" Lord Ralgha asked Kirha.

  "Drakj'khai nar Ghorah Khar, my lord," Kirha said quietly. The other officers stood and returned to their duties, but the Pilot Officer still knelt before the Khantahr. "He replaces Rakti, who still has not recovered completely from his honorable wounds received when fighting the humans in the Vega Sector."

  "Are you oathsworn to another Khantahr, Drakj'khai?" Lord Ralgha inquired mildly.

  The Pilot Officer looked up at Lord Ralgha, and there was mingled fear and respect in his expression and posture. Kirha was pleased. The Thrak'hra lord was an imposing enough Kilrathi to demand anyone's respect. "My previous kalrahr released me from my oath when I was transferred to the Ras Nik'hra, my lord."

  "Swear fealty to me now," the lord said, pointedly ignoring the spots of blood on the Pilot Officer's throat.

  Kirha stood at attention as the Ghorah Kharran spoke the ceremonial words, binding his life to that of his lord. A small thread of blood trickled down Drakj'khai's neck as he recited the ritual speech and completed it by baring his throat to the Thrak'hra's claws. Ralgha's claw-tips rested lightly on the blood-spots where Kirha's claws had been; then he let the Pilot Officer rise.

  "I accept your oath," Ralgha said, and turned to Kirha. "Your report, Kirha?"

  "The seventh engine has failed its preliminary testing. The technicians are working on that now," Kirha recited. "We are awaiting a complete shipment of heat-seeking missiles; the shipment we received is only half of what we need. Two of the crew are not yet aboard the ship and Security has been unable to find them in the Old City."

  Lord Ralgha nodded. "Send a message to Security that if our missing crewmen do not appear by our departure time, they are to be housed in detention until our return. Also, tell the Navigation Officer to make certain that we have the most current starmaps for the Firekka System before we depart."

  Firekka?

  "But, sir—" Kirha began, as Lord Ralgha walked to the lift.

  Ralgha spoke over his shoulder. "I will be inspecting the ship for the next hour. You have my comlink number if you need to consult with me about anything, Kirha."

  We are not supposed to go to Firekka!

  "Sir—"

  Ralgha did not even slow his steps.

  Kirha glanced around the crowded bridge, knowing that he still had tasks to complete here, but… he had to know. He ducked around two technicians working on the weapons control console, leaping into the lift with Lord Ralgha just before the doors closed. The lift silently descended toward the Launch Bays.

  "What is it, little cub?" Ralgha asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Do you wish to inspect the ship as well?"

  "My lord." Kirha bowed before him, his hands raised with claws retracted. "I would not question your orders, but… are we not to depart for the N'Tanya System, not Firekka? I saw our orders as they came in from K'Tithrak Mang… why do we need starmaps for the Firekka System?"

  Ralgha leaned against the wall of the lift. He looked very tired, Kirha thought. "Kirha, our… our orders have been changed. Tonight we leave for Firekka."

  "But those orders did not arrive with the Imperial courier, my lord. How did we receive these new orders?" Kirha asked hesitantly.

  Lord Ralgha reached out and pulled the switch that locked the lift in mid-transit. Kirha froze as it hissed to a halt. "Kirha… I must have one person that I can speak freely with aboard this ship. I have always trusted you. Can I trust you now?"

  Kirha looked at him, completely bewildered by the strange words, then knelt before him, raising his chin to present his throat. "I am oathsworn to you, my lord. My life is yours. Do you not remember the day that my father delivered me to your service? I was only a tiny cub, but that day will always burn brightly in my memory. My family has served your hrai for over ten generations; I serve you now, as my offspring will serve as well. You can trust me with your life and your honor, my lord." He rose to his feet, standing at attention before his lord.

  Lord Ralgha considered that for a moment before speaking. "You are correct, Kirha,
our orders are to report to the Fleet Kalrahr in the N'Tanya System, to join with a strike force departing for Deneb Sector. But my honor requires that we go to the Firekka System."

  Kirha tried not to look like a lowborn country-cub, with his jaw gaping in shock at everything he saw. But it was hard not to gape, with mingled surprise and confusion. "But why, sir?"

  Ralgha huffed out a sigh. It sounded melancholy. Kirha had never heard his lord sound melancholy before. "What do you know of my hrai, Kirha?"

  Kirha looked at him uncertainly. "All of your hrai were killed on that ship on Hhallas, several years ago. Most of my family, their retainers, died that day as well. Only you survived, as you were fighting the humans at the time. I would have died as well, if I had been aboard that ship rather than defending the estates from the humans."

  But he knows all this—

  "Why did they die?" Ralgha continued, inexorably, although Kirha thought that he detected pain in his lord's voice now, a pain that he shared. He did not want to think of this. He did not want to remember it.

  But his lord demanded it of him.

  "It was… it was an accident." he said with difficulty, his voice low and hoarse. "The local kalrahr thought it was one of the human ships, and fired on the ship before confirming the identification code. But you know this, my lord!" he said, with growing desperation. "Why do you ask me of it now?"

  But Ralgha was not through. "And what did you feel, cubling," he asked, in a voice flat and dull, "when you learned of the accident?"

  Kirha clenched his fists, remembering the rage he had felt that day, the rage that still chilled him inside. "I wanted to kill humans. It was because of the humans that everyone of your hrai died, that my parents and siblings were killed as well. That was when I asked you to take me with you, to serve you here aboard the Ras Nik'hra, to let me fight against the humans."

  "And was there any honor in my hrai's deaths?" his lord said quietly.

  Kirha stared at him, as if he had suddenly turned into an alien creature. No honor? But—

  "I will tell you what you do not know," Ralgha continued. "The humans attacked Hhallas in retaliation for our destruction of several of their colonies, which we attacked after some failed battle, trying to capture more human territory…" His voice trailed off, and he shook his shoulders, sadly. "Can you not see it, Kirha? The futility of it all? There was no honor in the deaths of my hrai, or your family. They were nothing more than game pieces, and they meant nothing to the players of either side. Their deaths served no purpose, Kirha."

  Kirha felt as if he was balancing on the edge of a void, his lord's words battering against all that he had believed in. His claws extended, as if to keep him from felling into the lightless depths.

  "The humans are the first alien race we have encountered that we have not conquered outright," Ralgha continued. "We have fought against them for many years now, and there is no end to this war in sight. And all that we do—all—is to trade conquered territories. We are no closer to winning this war than we were when we began it."

  Kirha shook his head, trying to understand, and feeling his stomach tense again with unhappiness. "But the humans are inferior to us, a prey-species! We have not won this war yet, but Kilrah will be triumphant! You know that we will conquer them eventually!"

  "Will we?" Ralgha bared his teeth, and Kirha drew back at the burning look in his Khantahr's eyes. "What if we cannot? How many lives have we spent in this war, with no true victory? We win a system, and lose another. What do we gain by this? And what does it cost us, this exercise in futility?"

  "But we must fight them!" Kirha protested. "That is our destiny! What are we if we are not warriors?"

  Lord Ralgha nodded grimly. "I do not know. But it would be interesting to find out, eh?"

  "I—I don't understand, my lord." He felt very small, smaller than a cub, and as helpless as a prey-beast in a corner.

  "I doubt it will happen in your lifetime, Kirha." He paced the short width of the lift. "Only a few among our people have seen the truth, that this war is a pointless exchange of territories. There is no honor in it, or victory, because both sides will lose more than they can gain. If we could truly conquer the humans… then, perhaps, there would be glory for us. But without any hope of victory, what is the purpose of this war? There is only death. Meaningless death, with no honor or glory in it. And for what? The glory of the Emperor? That useless fool whose backside warms the Throne of Kilrah, who has not fought for decades, who does not realize the price of this war?"

  "My lord, you speak… you speak treason," Kirha said slowly, the shock of his master's words reverberating through him. "Treason against the Emperor…"

  Ralgha glanced at him. "Yes, cubling. Now you know the truth. For two years now, I have been working with the rebels on Ghorah Khar, attempting to overthrow the Empire. That is why I was arrested, though they could not prove my connection to the rebels, and that is why we now must go to the Firekka System. Where I will contact the humans and… and surrender this ship to them."

  The void had opened beneath Kirha's feet, and he fell into it. Shock held him rigid. "S-surrender the ship? My lord, you cannot! What of yourself, and the crew?"

  "We will become prisoners of war." Ralgha's mouth tightened so that the tips of his fangs showed against the taut skin. "If they do not kill us outright. So, Kirha? Do you still obey me, cubling?"

  "You are my liege lord, and I am yours to kill or command," Kirha said automatically, finding some comfort in the ritual words. "I will always obey your orders, my lord. But I do not wish to be a prisoner of war. Let me kill myself instead." Here was a way out of his confusion, and he raised his head in hope.

  "Can you allow me this, Lord Ralgha?"

  Ralgha's lips curled back in something like a smile. "Perhaps I can find some alternative for you, Kirha. Trust me in this, I will not compromise your honor if I can. You have served me too loyally for that." He pushed the lever of the lift, which lurched back into motion, descending to the Launch Bay. "Now, you have duties to attend to, cubling. I will return shortly to the Bridge for a complete report."

  Kirha went numb, taking refuge in duty. "As you wish, my lord," he said automatically.

  The lord stepped out of the lift as the doors opened to the huge Launch Bay, the Jalthi and Dralthi fighters assembled in neat rows like soldiers for his review.

  Kirha closed his eyes and leaned against the curved wall of the lift as the doors closed again. How can my lord do this? he asked himself. How can he ask me to follow him into dishonor, and surrender to the humans?

  I am sworn to him, the last of his hrai, as he is the last of mine. I will not disobey him. He is my liege lord, and my Lord Ralgha, and I will not fail him.

  But I do not wish to surrender to the humans. I would rather die… I would rather die…

  Chapter Two

  "I'll raise you ten," Hunter said, propping his feet up on the table and fanning himself with his hand of cards. The temperature controls in the pilots' barracks were on the fritz again, and it was just a little too warm in the room.

  Though it ought to feel just like home, he reminded himself. Hot and muggy, not a breeze in sight, with just that cozy little hint in the air of mildew and old tennis shoes. And they wonder why I smoke cigars. Home on the bilabong, mates.

  Like the rest of the systems in the Confederation carrier Tiger's Claw, the cooling system was over eleven years old, and starting to show its age.

  Like all the rest of us, I guess. "How 'bout it, mate?" he asked the only remaining player.

  "Too rich for my blood," the young redheaded lieutenant said. "Folding." Lieutenant Peter "Puma" Youngblood looked like he'd bitten into something sour as he tossed his cards onto the table.

  Hunter grinned around the fat cigar in his mouth and reached for the small pile of chips. "Thank you, thank you. You're all too kind, financin' my leave." He picked up a small blue plastic chit out of the pile, a voucher for the planetary shuttle, and smiled at the
young Japanese woman next to him. "Thanks for the shuttle ticket, Mariko," he said. "That'll be real useful for my trip downside to the planet tonight."

  Mariko sighed, and shook her shoulder-length black hair away from her neck again. "You are welcome to my seat on that shuttlecraft, Hunter. I will be on duty for the next week, now that Colonel Halcyon has changed the duty roster. I hope you have a pleasant stay on Firekka."

  "Thank you, m'dear," he said, dropping the voucher into his pocket. "I'm looking forward to it." He picked up the rest of the cards and began shuffling them with deft motions. "Anyone up for another hand of seven-card stud, or maybe five card draw?"

  Iceman shook his head and gathered up his few remaining chips. "You've already won enough of my pay for this week, Hunter."

  Lieutenant Youngblood, one of the new pilots who was visiting from the TCS Austin, the sister ship to the TCS Tiger's Claw for this mission, looked like he'd rather spit. "No thank you, Captain St. John," he said tersely, in an obvious effort to be polite, and left the room.

  My, my. Them Yanks surely can be sore losers.

  "Prickly little runt, isn't he?" Hunter observed after Youngblood slammed the barracks hatchway shut behind him.

  "He's young and doesn't like to lose," Iceman said, and came about as close to a grin as he ever did. "He reminds me of you, Hunter, when you first transferred aboard the Tiger's Claw."

  "Surprised you remember that far back, Iceman," Hunter drawled.

  "Remember?" Iceman's eyebrows rose toward his hairline. "None of us are likely to forget Lieutenant Ian St. John, callsign 'Hunter'…" He shook his head, in mock mourning. "Oh yes, I remember when you came back from your first combat mission, swearing that the Kilrathi had never even managed to get close to you, and then all of us saw all the burn marks on the side of your ship. Looked like half your engines were fried!"