"Denning, Troy - Forgotten Realms - MoonShae 3 - Darkwell" - читать интересную книгу автора (Denning Troy)

It was a swarm for sure. A monstrous swarm sitting around Meetpoint station, like insects around a corpse.
"Migods," she murmured.
Another blur materialized. About ten minutes Light off station nadir. Unresolved yet, and small. It could get a lot wider.
"There's another one," Haral said; on the second Geran and Jik both came in on com.
"Got that," Pyanfar muttered, her mind half there, half on what the comp was bringing up, color-code spotted into the station-mass that said stsho/hani ID.
More IDs. There were stsho and hani in the station imaging, there were mahendo'sat and kif outlying. But not a single methane-breather in the output, which could mean that imaging had ignored them; or that no methane-breather was outputting; or that the methane-breathers had gotten the wind up them at some time earlier in events and lit out for their own territories.
"Captain," Geran said.
"I got it, I got it."
"Not a methane-breather anywhere," Haral muttered. "I don't like this."
"Got to be Akkhtimakt out there," Tirun said. "Looks like we got a real standoff here."
"Mahen ships out there," Pyanfar said. "Goldtooth, I'll bet you that, eggs to pearls. And too many ships. Gods, look at that."
"Humans," Haral said in a low voice. Not on bridge-com; voice-only.
"Yeah."
Tully knows it. Got to know it. He's not deaf. Not blind either.
"Pyanfar," Jik said. "Give com."
"In your own hell I will. Sit still."
Stsho and hani sitting there dead at dock with kif in full view, kifish ships with the advantage of position and startup time and the mass of Meetpoint's dark dwarf to pull them in?
But so had those other blotches on scan, mahen and alien. Standoff for sure.
We got troubles, gods, we got troubles.
"Hilfy: to both our partners; stand by hard dump, at the 2 unit mark; gods-be if we're going into that. Hard dump and brake, We're going to sit."
"You got damn kif come in here behind us, upset ever'thing!" Jik cried. "Give com, dammit, I talk!"
"Sit still while you got ears!"
"Aja Jin's outputting," Hilfy said. "Jik. Translate."
Faster than the mechanical translation.
"They make ID. Say hello to Ana. Say got kif coming behind us."
"Gods rot them." Monitors flicked and shifted. They were being inundated with com input, faster than their operators could handle it. Transcriptions were coming over. Kifish com. Hani ships were standing out from station. Stsho were in panic. Their wavefront had gotten to the station but not to the outliers they had seen on passive. Three more minutes for Akkhtimakt's kif to notice them. Seven for the unidentifieds that might be mahendo'sat. Eight for the ones farthest out, who might be human. And double that for response time. "We're going to have kif up our backsides."
"You going have damn kif break through system, they don't stop, you hear? Pyanfar! Give com!"
"Shut it up. Haral! Dump us down."
Haral hit the switches. The Pride shed V in a single lurch to a lower state; space went inside out-
. . . another lurch. The universe spun once about. . . . . . . .revised itself.
Instruments cleared. Broke up again with a heartstopping jolt and cleared, some ship too near them and themselves displaced off their nav-fix as the field popped them down the gravity-slope.
The rate was far less. Easy from here. Two more blips reappeared: Moon Rising and Aja Jin matched them and came down again widely spaced from them and a little to the rear.
"Reacquire," Geran said.
"Com output to my board," Pyanfar said; and when the light went on: "All ships: this is Pyanfar Chanur, The Pride of Chanur. Take precautions; all station personnel, go to innermost secure areas. Maintain order. All ships drop to low-V for your own protection.-We have limited time. This is The Pride of Chanur and allied ships urging all ships to maintain position and take no action. The hakkikt Sikkukkut is inbound with a large number of ships. Take precautions-"
"Sheshe sheshei-to!" Jik cried. And Geran:
"Priority, Priority!" Geran cried, as the scan-monitor went red all across the top, with a breakout behind them like plague in the jumprange.
"Gods-be!" Pyanfar cried; and hit the alarm.
Useless. With ships coming up their backsides and under their bellies at V that could cross a planetary diameter in seconds. The informational wavefront was on them at C and the ships a fraction behind it-
Instruments jumped and went crazy. Her heart slammed in her chest, and the first firing of panicked neurons said they were dying-the second, that they had not died and the encounter was over in nanoseconds.
It passed like a storm. It was inbound to Meetpoint with a dopplered flare of output, like devils screaming down on the damned, Meetpoint with minutes left and mortal reflexes hopeless of mounting any response-
"O gods," she said for the third time. It came out with what felt like the last of her breath.
"Give com," Jik yelled. "Give-"
''Stay in your seat!'' Tirun snarled back.
"Priority, com," Hilfy snapped. "Tully!"
And hard on that a stream of alien language, Tully's voice, rapid-paced: "... to all ships," the words turned up on monitor, translator-function. "This is # Tully ###, ask you # stay #####-"
Total breakup. Whatever he was speaking, it was not in the comp-dictionary.
"Damn," Jik said. "Ana!"
While a mass of kifish output raced ahead of them, Sikkukkut, howling down on the station, nadir-bound, past a stationful of stsho who could not fight; and a cluster of hani ships who might try. And die doing it.
"Gods curse that bastard," Pyanfar muttered, and something hurt deep in her gut, diminishing that pain about her heart. "Gods curse him. Haral. To my boards. Hilfy: tell our partners stand by. Haral: course to Urtur."
"Aye," Hilfy said.