Wing Commander: Freedom Flight

by Mercedes Lackey

  Chapter Five

  "It's a long, long way to Tipperary, it's a long way to go!"

  Can't remember the next verse to that… Lord, but I hate sob patrols, Hunter thought, unstrapping himself so he could prop his feet up on the port viewscreen. Nothing to do but fly around hoping something will happen, and wondering if you'll be able to handle it by yourself, if something does happen!

  He leaned over to check that the Autopilot was continuing to follow the correct course, then flicked the vidscreen controls to go to multi-channel, broadcasting and receiving from all the pilots. "Hey, anybody seein' anything out there, mates?"

  "Keep the channels clear, Hunter," the Colonel's voice said sternly, his image flickering on the vidscreen.

  "Okay, okay," Hunter grumbled, wishing yet again that they'd let him smoke cigars when he was on patrol. Too much of a fire risk, sure, but after two hours of this, he was dying for a smoke…

  "All pilots, listen closely!" the Colonel's voice crackled. "The TCS Holmen, one of our Marine troopships, has just reported in. They've found the Ras Nik'hra, and several squadrons of Marines have boarded and are taking command of the ship. And they're reporting another Fralthi is in the area, on an interception course with the ship. All pilots are to divert and assist the Ras Nik'hra! The coordinates are…"

  Hunter sat up immediately, both feet hitting the floor of the fighter with a thunk, resetting his Auto-Nav computer as the Colonel recited the sequence of numbers. "I'm only a few minutes away from that position, Tiger's Claw." he reported, strapping himself back into his chair and tightening the straps for good measure. He brought the fighter up to full speed, banking in the direction of the Fralthis.

  "Affirmative, Hunter," the Colonel replied. "Bossman and Spirit are also enroute. Good luck."

  "Thanks, Colonel." Hunter checked his radar… nothing in sight yet. He fired a test burst from his guns, resetting them from neutron guns to laser cannons so he'd have the best long-distance weapon readied, then reached over to switch to Mariko's vid channel.

  "How're you doing, sweetheart?" he asked.

  "We could use some help, Hunter!" she said. "The Fralthi is heavily armed."

  "Hey, I'm on my way, I'll save the day! Don't you get the feeling that we've done this before?" he asked with a grin. "If I show up to rescue you many more times, people are going to start talking about us, you know!"

  She smiled, and a moment later Hunter saw the battle in his forward viewscreen, two huge Fralthi firing broadsides at each other, Spirit and Hunter's tiny fighters darting between them.

  "They're launching fighters!" Bossman said tersely. "One Jalthi heavy fighter heading toward us. Spirit, form on my wing! We'll take him."

  "I'm with you, Major," Hunter said, switching to full guns. "I'll be on your wing in another few seconds. Watch those forward guns, those Jalthi have plenty of firepower."

  Spirit spoke quietly. "Major, if we can get some dumb-fire missiles into that launch bay, they won't be able to get any more fighters off the deck."

  "Affirmative on that, Spirit," Bossman said. "Be careful, Lieutenant, they'll start tracking guns on you the minute you do that… I want you to 'burner past this Jalthi, both of you. I'll do a hard turn and take him. You have to stop them from launching any more fighters!"

  "We're on it, Bossman," Hunter said. "Spirit, I'll play decoy, you take out the launch bay!"

  "Affirmative!"

  The Jalthi fighter, bristling with six forward guns, banked toward them as Hunter slid into the formation next to Bossman and Spirit's fighters. Bossman's voice was tense. "Ready to break… NOW!"

  Hunter punched in the afterburners, relaxing as acceleration slammed him back into his seat, dodging beneath the Jalthi just as it opened fire. Spirit was already ahead of him, accelerating toward the launch bay. The open space around them suddenly blossomed with heavy weapons fire as the Fralthi's guns began tracking them.

  "Evasive, Spirit!" Hunter shouted. Her fighter twisted and turned sharply, still continuing toward her target. Hunter followed closely, sending bursts of cannon fire toward the Fralthi's gun turrets. The missiles arced out from Spirit's fighter and into the Fralthi's landing bay, just as a turret scored a direct hit on her right wing. She tilted away from the ship, spinning uncontrollably.

  "Hunter, I'm hit in the main gyros… can't stabilize…"

  "Lady, get that Ras Nik'hra ship between you and this Fralthi and punch out!"

  Another burst of fire from a turret caught her fighter, tearing away one of the wings. Hunter yanked on the controls and brought his fighter around, blasting the enemy turret into incandescent debris. "Come on, you bastards, shoot at me, not her!" he shouted into his comlink. An alien voice answered him, a cat face shrieking Kilrathi over the vid.

  He glanced back to see Spirit recover control of her fighter, heading straight for the Ras Nik'hra. A moment later, Hunter realized that he was now the only target for the Fralthi, as dozens of explosions filled the space around him. He punched the 'burners a split-second later, getting out of range of the turrets.

  Oh man, I feel like a bunny at a hawk convention!

  "Bossman, where are you?" he called, hoping he didn't sound as frantic as he felt.

  "Heading back to your position," the Major replied. "That guy took a little longer than I expected."

  "Okay, draw their turret fire!" he said. "I'm going in after that hulk."

  "You got it, Hunter!" the other pilot replied.

  Hunter hit the afterburners for a quick fly-by, feeling the fighter shake and rattle with the proximity of the Fralthi's guns. Suddenly the fighter bounced hard to the right, and he had to fight to keep it under control and avoid spinning out. Brushed the shields! Damn, but that thing is armed for bear! I could spend all day pounding on those shields and never get through…

  He accelerated beyond the cruiser and brought the fighter around again for another attack run, this time aiming at the rear of the huge ship. He could see the main thruster engine of the ship, glowing bright in the center of the five other engine nacelles. Hunter paused briefly to switch to Image-Recognition missiles, and eased back on the throttle, slowing down to only a hundred KPS. All he needed was one lucky shot…

  He approached slowly, feeling a trickle of sweat start down the side of his face as the Fralthi's guns swiveled to track him. That's right, boys, I'm a sitting duck, come and get me… The targeting computer wailed shrilly as the I-R missile locked onto the Fralthi's main engine. He slammed his thumb down to launch the missile, then immediately switched to dumb-fire missiles, continuing to accelerate directly at the main engine nacelle. At the last moment he fired both dumb-fire missiles into the nacelle, banking hard to the right. Another of the engine nacelles loomed directly before him, and he twisted the ship away, diving beneath it and into open space.

  Hunter looked back to see the main engine nacelle peeling away from the rest of the ship. He had a split second of horrified realization… My God, I'm too close to the ship!… before the Fralthi exploded into brilliant light and debris. The blast wave caught him up and hurled him forward, tumbling end over end helplessly. The Rapier's stabilizers kicked back in a few seconds later, and the fighter hung motionless in space, large pieces of debris drifting past him. Hunter just sat there for a long moment, trying to catch his breath. Then he brought the fighter around to see what was left.

  Of the Imperial Fralthi, the only part of the ship that was still intact was the forward oval that he knew contained the ship's Bridge. I hope those blokes died fast, he thought soberly, looking at the remains of the ship. Beyond the dead Fralthi, the Ras Nik'hra sailed regally onward, continuing in the direction of the Tiger's Claw.

  "Hunter, you all right?" Bossman called on the vid monitor.

  "Yeah, sure." He wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Kien, where's Mariko?"

  "I saw her heading toward the Ras Nik'hra's landing bay."

  "All right. I want to land and make sure that she's all right," he said, moving slowly to
ward the huge ship.

  "Affirmative, Hunter, I'll stay out here as escort," Bossman said, his image fizzling out.

  The ship grew larger and larger in front of him, a behemoth that dwarfed his fighter and was nearly the size of the Austin. He eased up on the controls as he approached the open gap of the landing bay. "Ras Nik'hra, do you read?" he said on the open channels. "This is Captain St. John, requesting landing permission."

  A blonde woman's face appeared on the vid screen. "Captain St. John, this is Major Marks," she said. "You are cleared to land." Her image disappeared a moment later.

  "Thanks," Hunter muttered under his breath. "How 'bout giving me a road map of this bloody ship?" He maneuvered for the final approach, feeling another trickle of sweat starting on his brow. It's just like landing on any other carrier, he told himself. Except that it's a Kilrathi ship, I've never seen the layout of their landing bay, I don't know how much space I have to brake, or anything else about it. But other than that, it's just like landing on any other carrier. Just keep thinking that, mate!

  He brought his speed all the way down to near zero, edging into the deck at the slowest possible speed. The bay was strange, painted in odd oranges and reds, with a high curving ceiling covered with pipes and conduits. He cleared the entrance and immediately touched down, feeling the slight difference in gravity as he parked the fighter. Mariko's fighter, with the long burn mark along one side, was parked fifty feet away. Hunter killed the main engines, and checked the atmospheric readout on his cockpit panel. Still vacuum out there, those clever cats haven't figured out how to do our magnetic shields yet, he thought. He checked to make sure that his flight suit was still fully pressurized, then popped the cockpit.

  Hunter climbed down, glancing around. The deck was deserted. He walked quickly toward the airlock, pausing for a moment to look appreciatively at the row of Dralthi fighters parked along one wall. Those good old flying pancakes, he thought, smiling as he studied the unusual saucer-shaped body of the Kilrathi fighters. I've never seen one from this close before. I wonder what it'd be like to fly one of those babies?

  He continued into the airlock. Hunter stared at the complex control panel, with all of its markings in the vertical line-syllables of the Kilrathi alphabet. "Press the button marked with the two long lines and the two dotted lines," a human voice said into his helmet radio. Hunter did so, and the outer door of the airlock slid shut. A few seconds later, as the air pressure equalized, the inner airlock door opened silently.

  Two Marines saluted stiffly, standing at attention. A short blonde woman with a Major's decorations on her fatigues, and two tall Kilrathi stood next to them. Hunter stepped back in spite of himself at the sight of the Kilrathi, wearing heavy leather hauberks, their ears pierced with multiple gold rings. Mariko, her hair tousled from her helmet, stood off to one side. There was a large bruise on her cheek, but otherwise she looked to be fine.

  "You're okay, Spirit?" he asked, walking up to her.

  "It is nothing, Ian," she said, touching her cheek self-consciously.

  "Glad to hear it," he said, and kissed her exuberantly. Mariko, startled, blushed bright pink.

  The taller of the two Kilrathi said something in their own growly language. The other Kilrathi bowed to Hunter and spoke in awkward, heavily-accented English. "I beg your pardon with all honor, noble sir, but my lord would know why you touch faces with the other warrior."

  "Because I'll take any excuse to kiss this lady!" Hunter grinned.

  "Ah, gentlemen," the Major said, clearing her throat. "We have other matters to discuss. I'm Major Marks, currently in charge of this operation. Lord Ralgha, this is Captain Ian St. John, also known as Hunter. Hunter, this is Lord Ralgha nar Hhallas, Khantahr of the Ras Nik'hra. He wanted to meet you."

  The smaller Kilrathi bowed to Hunter again. "My lord Ralgha bids you welcome in all honor, Captain Ian St. John, also known as Hunter," the feline alien said. Hunter watched the cat struggle with the human language, and realized with a start that this was a very young Kilrathi, compared to the grizzled Captain with his mane of white fur. "My lord Ralgha wishes to confirm that you were the human pilot who destroyed the Fralthi Kraj'nishk in valiant battle."

  "Uh, yeah, mate," Hunter said, glancing at the Major, who nodded at him to continue. "That was me, I toasted it."

  The younger Kilrathi spoke in his own language with the lord, then spoke again to Hunter. "Noble sir, my lord wishes to personally surrender his ship, the Ras Nik'hra, to you. He owes you a debt of honor, which he cannot repay. But as a small token, he wishes to give you his loyal retainer, who will serve you as his liege-lord… and…" The young Kilrathi's tail twitched suddenly. He turned back to Ralgha, speaking frantically in his own language. Even though Hunter couldn't understand a word of Kilrathi, he recognized desperation when he saw it. Lord Ralgha said something short and terse in Kilrathi. The younger Kilrathi swallowed visibly, then knelt before Hunter, raising his chin high. The two Kilrathi stared at Hunter, obviously expecting him to do something. But what?

  "You're supposed to accept his oath of fealty, Captain," the Major said in the awkward silence.

  "I'm supposed to do what?" Hunter said.

  "We'll deal with it later, for now just say that you'll accept him as your sworn warrior." She added in an undertone, "We don't need a diplomatic incident right now, Captain. Say you'll accept him!"

  "Uh, sure." Hunter said. "That is, yes. I accept you as my sworn warrior." He stared at the young Kilrathi prostrating himself at his feet, and asked, "What's your name, anyhow?"

  "Kirha, my lord Captain Ian St. John, also known as Hunter," the Kilrathi replied.

  "Kirha, right. Uh… stand up, Kirha. Tell your lord that I said thanks for the gift."

  "But Captain Ian St.

  John, also known as Hunter ... you are my lord now!"

  "Why don't we continue this on the Bridge of the Ras Nik'hra?" the Major said. Hunter glanced at her, and saw that she was stifling a grin. Mariko, too, looked like she was enjoying all of this too much.

  "What did I do to deserve this?" Hunter muttered under his breath, walking with the Major, Mariko, and the Kilrathi Captain in the direction of the Bridge, as Kirha followed respectfully behind him.

  Kirha waited, in a kind of exhausted trance, for the human Hunter to do something. Anything! Either accept Kirha's oath, or tear out Kirha's throat with his claws—

  Well, maybe not that. But shoot him, or something. What, didn't much matter anymore. Kirha was too tired, too bewildered by the sudden change in loyalties, and too confused to care. Just so something happened, something that did not require him to make a decision.

  Finally, Ralgha, with Kirha translating, coached the human through the words and actions of formal oath-swearing when they reached the bridge. Hunter completed the ceremony and told him to seat himself out of the way, and Kirha permitted himself to collapse into a shock-chair on the bridge. He watched apathetically as Lord Ralgha directed the humans in the navigation and control of the ship, translating when he was called upon to do so. No longer a Kilrathi ship… strange. It ought to look different somehow; it ought to have turned unrecognizable and alien. Yet nothing had changed, except the figures at the consoles. Too thin, too hairless, no tails at all.

  It occurred to him, in a dim sort of fashion, that he was probably in shock. Too many changes, too quickly. The Kilrathi did not care much for change; yet Kirha's life had been one long string of changes, with only his oath and his loyalties to Ralgha as a constant. Now, even that was… changed…

  At some point in the haze, they must have reached the humans' command-ship, for more of the creatures came pouring aboard, and some of them approached him. They were armed, bearing both hand weapons and things that were as long as their arms, and from their postures, they were very wary of him. They stared down at him as he continued to sit; he stared up at them, wondering what they wanted. Finally, one of them said, in badly pronounced and nearly unintelligible Kilrathi, "You, come. For qu
estions."

  Now what was that supposed to mean? Were they planning to interrogate him? Why?

  He spotted the human Hunter across the room, and called out to him. Hunter looked up, startled, as the humans surrounding Kirha jumped back a pace. Hunter left the human he was speaking to and hurried across the bridge. Kirha reflected that he moved well, for a human. He would have been more graceful with a tail, however. Kirha remained sitting, since that was what Hunter had told him to do.

  "What is it?" he asked. "What's the matter?"

  Kirha spoke slowly and carefully, so that there would be no misunderstandings.

  "These—fellow-beings of yours—seem to wish me to come with them for interrogation," he said, with as much dignity as his weariness would allow. "Is there need for this? I possess no secrets; I am permitted no secrets. I am sworn to you, is this not sufficient?"

  Hunter's face-skin twisted and wrinkled, and he rubbed the side of his head. "Furball, I can't explain this properly, but just go with them. Answer their questions. It'll be easier that way."

  "But my loyalty—" Kirha protested. "You have my oath!"

  "I'm not questioning that, but my—uh—clan-siblings don't understand the way the oath works yet. We'll both need to explain it to them. They—uh—we don't know a lot about your customs."

  "Then tell them," Kirha said, logically.

  The skin of Hunter's face wrinkled still more. "Just do it, all right? They have to talk with you themselves."

  Kirha flattened his ears, and got slowly to his feet, making no secret of his reluctance. The humans backed up another pace or two as he straightened to his full height, the stiffness of their posture showing their nervousness, their face-skins perfectly smooth.

  One last time, he turned toward Hunter, but the human only motioned for him to go on. He flattened his ears with unhappiness, and obeyed.