total, Thai-i?”
“Over a hundred now, Chu-sa.”
Hadeishi sighed, and then picked up his stylus again: Our mission continues to be successful. We have found and destroyed nine Imperial escape pods. Additionally thirty useable z-suits, numerous small arms and edged weapons were recovered. Return to the hunting pack is expected within twenty-three hours.
A firm tap on the running-man glyph spooled the message off into the t-relay system. Done, he thought, with that exercise-for another six hours.
“Isn’t that strange,” De Molay said from her seat at Navigation. Somehow the old woman had acquired a puffy black expedition jacket and mittens. Hadeishi didn’t think it was so cold in Command, but he allowed that the Khaid had not set environmental to warm either. “The ship’s previous course indicates they took no prisoners, captured no equipment… just a missile or beam into each pod and on their way.”
Mitsuharu tried to swivel the beetle-chair at the captain’s console, found that the chitin was sticking again, and stood up. He had been sitting too long in any case. “That is an odd course for a military so very in need of technical expertise, as well as slave labor. Haste overthrew their normal procedure, I think. They always took the time to dig every last beet from the fields before.”
The old woman shook her head. “Wasteful.”
Then she frowned, indicating the navigational plot on his console. “Do these raiders believe they can pick up the mystery weapon and use it like a shipgun? Every vessel we’ve seen is a warship-have they no scientists along, to analyze these phenomena?”
“That is an excellent point.” Hadeishi nodded thoughtfully. “Do we have a breakdown of the battle around the science station yet?”
“Five minutes, Chu-sa.” De Molay yawned and turned back to where Lovelace had continued unraveling the encoded Khaid ’cast logs. “Five minutes.”
An hour later, Mitsuharu was sitting on the edge of the uncomfortable chair, wholly engrossed in stepping through the debacle around the science station one more time. The Spear -class light cruiser had gone out of service fifteen years before his old Cornuelle had even been laid down, so it lacked a wide variety of modern innovations. No threatwell, no reconfigurable consoles. But the dedicated v-display built into the side of the captain’s station was enough to show him what he needed to see. To his eye, structure was slowly emerging from the seeming chaos of racing ships and sun-bright detonations. One ship, in particular, stood out amongst the confusion. An Imperial battle cruiser. A brand new one, he guessed, from the drive-flare and the outline the Khaid cameras had captured during the fighting.
Ah, she is beautiful. And her commander will win himself more than one medal if he sees home again. See how deftly he handles her… so sure in every maneuver, parsimonious in his launch patterns… and if my eye does not deceive, still alive, having fled down this opening in the Barrier wall.
“ Chu-sa? ” Leaning over from her console, De Molay broke his concentration. “I think our toil is showing fruit. Listen, isn’t this the Khaiden battlecast?”
“Wait.” Hadeishi signaled Command for quiet. “Please confirm that we are not broadcasting, Sho-i Lovelace. The Khaid have acute hearing.” The old women handed over her earbug-though internal comm was operating again, the Khaid-specific systems were still cut from the main loop. He wiggled the uncomfortable object into his ear, listening closely to the resulting ebb and flow of alien chatter.
After a few minutes he nodded to himself and signaled for Lovelace to kill the circuit.
“I think you’re right. Now we need a working real-time translator.” He smiled wanly at the two women. “In about twelve hours?”
De Molay made a face, looking sideways at Lovelace. The Sho-i shook her head in dismay. “I don’t think that’s possible, Chu-sa. I know they exist-but we don’t have one!”
Mitsuharu frowned, sitting back in the beetle-chair. Now he was thankful for the rigid armor which kept him from being stabbed in the side every time he moved. “Do we have a lexicon at least? My Khadesh is very poor-is anyone on-board fluent?”
“You mean besides the four Khaid we’ve captured?” The old woman shook her head. “Can we get a couple hours of shuteye, then try and work a new miracle for you?”
“Of course, Sencho. There are mats in those rooms down the main corridor. Lovelace- sana can show you where they are.”
A full watch later, Hadeishi had coaxed the display into allowing him to zoom in on sections of the battle, even though the Kader ’s shipnet core complained when he used so many computing cycles. De Molay and Lovelace had settled back into their seats, some kind of hot, nasty-smelling beverage in their hands. He rotated the shattered hulk of the Tlemitl, examining the debris field the super-dreadnaught had generated.
Sure enough, a cloud of evac capsules is huddling behind the wreck. He scratched behind one ear with his stylus.
The warship had lost two major sections to the Barrier weapon, but had remained largely intact. Whoever remained aboard had managed to cut the engines, contain the reactors, and get the surviving crew away into the evacuation pods. They had not kept the two severed sections from continuing forward, to be diced into ever smaller debris by whatever lay beyond… but the main mass of the hull had halted its rush to destruction. Affording a paltry shelter to the survivors.
“Here, Sencho, here are the ones who need us most. Their oxygen, water, and food is ebbing away like the outgoing tide. Even the Firearrow ’s corpse will not shield them from the Khaid much longer.”
He turned to find De Molay regarding him pensively. “You don’t intend to leave a single man behind, do you?” she asked. “Even if this means risking nearly two hundred lives you’ve already saved and this fine ship you’ve taken?”
“It is not my ship,” Hadeishi replied absently. “I cannot be held to account for its loss. But there are skilled officers and men out there waiting to die in the dark, either by fire or from cold, and their spirits will weigh heavy upon me if I do not try.”
“Even if they would leave you behind without a second thought?”
Hadeishi gave her a sidelong look. The rest of the men and women on the bridge had paused in their work and were listening intently-though, out of deference to the two senior officers, not openly. Save Lovelace, of course, who was just staring at the two of them in dismay.
Mitsuharu tapped the helmet ring of his captured Khaiden armor, which he had not had time to take off since boarding the Kader. “I am already dead,” he said quietly. “While they still live and breathe. I would keep grave-dust from their mouths as long as I can. In this way, even a spirit can serve.”
De Molay made a disbelieving face. “I do not understand this fatalism, Chu-sa. It is not my way.”
Hadeishi spared a moment to regard Tocoztic, who had taken the weapons officer’s station. The young man looked pale, trying to escape notice by shrinking down into his seat. “With time and experience, that which was once obscure becomes clear,” Hadeishi said softly. Then he picked up his stylus, eyes again fixed upon the little display, his whole attention focused on the tactical puzzle before him.
THE NANIWA
IN THE SHADOW OF THE SUNFLOWER
Though proper quarters had been provided for him, Prince Xochitl remained in Secondary Command, staring fixedly at the incomprehensibly large shape of the artifact four thousand kilometers from their bow, and doodling on his console. Doctor Anderssen and a rotating set of sensor techs and weapons officers had been working through all
