Lost In Translation (38 page)

“Does it matter?” Kitillikk strode to the console that had broadcast the High Priest's message, ripped out the vidchip and smashed it against the floor, then pulled the dead guard's firelance from his death-grip and fired it point-blank into the console. The blast ripped open its cover: sparks flew and acrid black smoke began to pour out.

Ukkarr watched silently. When Kitillikk turned back to him, he said, “The
Unity?
”

“The
Unity.
” Leaving behind the wreckage of the room, matching the wreckage of her dreams, they stalked toward the docking bay.

As screens in the communications room began to play the High Priest's message, Jarrikk crossed over to Kathryn and took her hand.
That's it?
she asked.

They proceeded cautiously through the ship, but saw no S'sinn until they reached the docking bay itself. From the observation deck they watched three Hunters arguing heatedly among themselves beside the hatch that opened into the docking tunnel linking the
Bloodfeud
and the
Unity.
One of them shouted something and turned to go; when one of the others grabbed him he lashed out, ripping a chunk of flesh from his attacker's arm and breaking free, then flung himself into the air toward one of the upper entrances.

The remaining, uninjured S'sinn raised his firelance, but the wounded one shoved the weapon down with his good arm and gesticulated. Together they went out, leaving the hatch unguarded. Kathryn started toward the door.

There will still be cameras watching,
Jarrikk cautioned her.

The ship shuddered beneath their feet.
Another violent maneuver,
Kathryn thought. Were they attacking the Earth Fleet despite the broadcast? Had all their efforts failed?

Had they destroyed that poor S'sinn's mind for nothing?

They had to get into the
Unity
and find out.

Inside the docking bay, empty now of all scoutships, Kathryn glanced up at the observation deck from which they'd watched the S'sinn guards scuffle. Was that movement up there, behind the half-silvered glass? But nobody tried to stop them. She also felt nervous about the huge hatch to their right, which must open directly into space, but if someone decided to open it, she supposed they'd know little enough about it.

When they got to the docking tunnel's hatch, it opened easily. They passed through the airlock, then the gravlock, feeling their weight shift slightly to match the
Unity
's Earth-normal, and then they were back inside the Guildship.

Captain Hall met them. “Security told me you were coming in,” he said in Guildtalk. “I couldn't believe you were still alive.”

“I have a little trouble believing it myself,” Kathryn said. “What's happening?”

“A S'sinn transmission came on, the two S'sinn on board—there were only a couple, they seemed confident we couldn't break free of their flagship anyway—listened to it, and then they left, just like that.”

“Has the Hunter Fleet attacked the human Fleet?”

“My sensors aren't operating. They're being suppressed by the flagship.”

Kathryn felt Jarrikk's frustration. “Maybe you should try to bring them online again,” he said. “There should be a lot of confusion on board the flagship right now. You might get away with it.”

“Then that transmission—”

“Was what we came out here to send. Captain Hall, please, the sensors?”

“Of course.” Kathryn and Jarrikk followed him out of the lock. Just at the door, Kathryn glanced over her shoulder as an odd popping noise from down the open docking tunnel caught her attention, but seeing nothing, she dismissed it as the ping of contracting metal and put it out of her mind.

 

“Safety locks disabled,” Ukkarr said. “Along with the drive enslavement. The umbilicals will hold the
Unity
through ordinary maneuvers, but a sharp outward boost should easily tear her free.”

“Excellent.” Kitillikk raised her borrowed firelance and inspected it with a practiced eye. “Well-kept,” she said approvingly. “Come on, Ukkarr.”

“At your service, Flight Leader.”

 

On the bridge, a young woman now sat in the charred chair in front of the communications console. She didn't glance up as the captain entered with the Translators, but others did, and exchanged surprised looks among themselves. The captain went at once to the sensor console. “Initiate restart,” he said.

“But, Captain . . .”

“Just do it, Ensign!”

“Yes, sir!” The young woman bent to her controls. Blank blue screens flickered, went white, then black, then suddenly started scrolling reams of numbers. Intent now, the ensign sent her fingers dancing over the console. The numbers gave way to visuals, and with a triumphant flick of a final switch, the ensign brought the main vidscreens to life. “Sensors back on line, Captain!”

Kathryn leaned forward eagerly, trying to make sense out of the cryptically-notated dots and multicolored vector lines, with little success. “Captain, what's happening?”

He turned to her with fierce glee. “The Hunter Fleet has broken off the attack! It's breaking up and heading for home!”

Kathryn let out a whoop that startled even herself, and turned and flung her arms around Jarrikk, never mind how the bridge crew stared.
We did it!

Kathryn drew back.
You don't seem too certain.

Kitillikk,
he reminded her.
We don't know what
she
is doing.
He nodded at the screens.
And we don't know what the Earth Fleet will do.

Kathryn looked over her shoulder. “Captain, what about the Earth Fleet?”

“It's not doing anything. If it were going to attack the Hunter ships, I'd have expected it to do so by now. If they wait much longer, they won't be able to catch any of them before they jump.”

Kathryn sensed faint disappointment from him; well-hidden, probably subconscious, but there nonetheless. Well, she supposed she couldn't blame him. She put her cheek against Jarrikk's furry chest again.
You see?
she said.
We did it!

But Jarrikk stiffened.
Wait! Wait, I sense—

Kathryn sensed it, too, with their jointly heightened empathy. Two S'sinn, moving toward them fast, purposefully, two S'sinn—

Wait, she knew that one, it was—

Jarrikk spun around. “Kitillikk!” he growled out loud, as the deposed Flight Leader burst through the door to the bridge and snapped her black wings wide, firelance aimed right at the two Translators.

Kitillikk took in the bridge of the
Unity
with a single glance around, then focused on the two Translators and the captain. Behind her she heard Ukkarr, and knew he would make sure none of the other bridge crew did anything stupid. “I should kill you now, Jarrikk, and your human mate,” she snarled. “But I need both of you. I know you and your pet can Translate without all that rigmarole of the Guild. Do it. I have orders for the captain, and I refuse to speak your pidgin Guildtalk.”

“Kitillikk, this won't accomplish anything,” Jarrikk said quietly. “Your scheme is over. You will never be Supreme Flight Leader. You will never lead the S'sinn Fleet in battle.”

“I didn't come here to discuss my future. Translate!”

“I already am.”

“Good.” Kitillikk shifted her gaze to the human captain, who stood stiffly to one side of Jarrikk. “Cap tain, I have disabled the systems holding the
Unity
to my flagship.” Kathryn Bircher began speaking along with her. Just as she'd thought: the two
could
provide Full Translation without the Guild's symbiotes. “You will initiate a full-power boost at a right angle to the long axis of the
Bloodfeud,
and continue this full-power boost until you are out of range of the flagship's weapons, though I do not believe she will fire on you—Captain Tikkivv is, by this time, fully aware of my presence on this ship, and he is not like the rest of these milk-spewing younglings who call themselves Hunters, to be led by that hag of a High Priest. He will allow us to escape.”

The human captain said something in his squawking human tongue. “And if I refuse?” Jarrikk translated.

Kitillikk fired an energy bolt into the empty chair at the sensor console, narrowly missing the young ensign, who stared down with wide white-rimmed eyes at the smoking ruin on which she had been sitting seconds before. “Then I start killing your crew. In any event, Captain, why should you refuse? I assume you want to escape from my ship as much as I do.”

The captain growled something in reply, then turned and started giving orders. “Translate,” Kitillikk snapped at Jarrikk.

“Captain Hall said it wasn't your ship he wanted to escape,” Jarrikk said. “It was you.”

Kitillikk showed her teeth. “That will not be easy.”

The captain faced her again. “We're ready,” Jarrikk said.

Kitillikk kept grinning. “You think I'm a fool? Ukkarr, brace yourself.” She wrapped one arm around a nearby support and spread her wings. “Unless the three of you like bouncing around the walls . . .” she said to Jarrikk.

He met her gaze for a moment, then led Kathryn Bircher to an empty chair, and, as she strapped herself in, braced himself as Kitillikk had, though he kept one hand on Bircher's shoulder. The captain strapped himself into his own chair in the center of the room, but swung it around to look at Kitillikk instead of facing the sensor screens.

“Now, Captain,” Kitillikk said. Bircher translated, and the captain barked an order.

The boosters fired, unheard but felt as a deep vibration in the bones of the ship, and the
Unity
lifted away from the flagship. Tortured metal shrieked and the ship bucked and jerked as it ripped apart the docking tube. Three sensor screens flickered and went dark as their antennae fragmented; another console exploded in sparks and smoke as fractured conduits shorted out; then they were free.
Bloodfeud
dwindled rapidly in the surviving sensor screens, and made no attempt to fire on them or pursue. Nor did any other ship.

Kitillikk released her hold on the brace. If she hadn't gripped it, she knew she would have been full-length on the floor—precisely, she suspected, what the captain had hoped. Now she pointed the firelance at him again. “Now, Captain. About our course—”

Something buzzed behind her. “Ukkarr?” she snapped.

“Someone wants access to the bridge.” A pause as he presumably scanned security screens. “It's the human Ornawka, Flight Leader.”

“Ornawka? Here?” Kitillikk shifted her focus to Jarrikk. “Why didn't you tell me he was here?”

“I did not know,” Jarrikk said. “I do not know how he
could
be here.”

“Let him in,” Kitillikk said to Ukkarr. “But watch him.”

“Yes, Flight Leader.”

 

Jim? Here? How?
Kathryn couldn't believe Jarrikk had translated correctly.
Why?

I don't know.
Jarrikk seemed as bemused as she did.
He must have stowed away . . .

He had help,
Kathryn thought.
Of course he had help. Sympathizers. This is a human-crewed ship. A certain percentage—

None of that matters,
Jarrikk sent back.
More important is why is he
here,
on the bridge?

He hasn't given up. Jim Ornawka
never
gives up.

It was Jim, all right, looking calm and collected, though as always, his feelings were unreadable behind an empathic shield, a shield even stronger than before. Even in contact with Jarrikk, Kathryn could not penetrate it this time. She suspected they could if they made full Linkage—but after their experience with the guard . . . no. Not even Jim deserved that.

“Kitillikk,” Jim said in Guildtalk. “It has been a long time.”

“You have joined your friends to die?” Kitillikk said, spitting the Guildtalk words as though they left a bad taste in her mouth.