With the medics gone, and the door shut, Garath remarked nastily, "With her gone we've less cause to get into fights."
"Look, I know how bloody irritating Marchero can be," Kirrik told him. "But the doctor's right. We've got to calm down."
"That's fine, coming from you. You got us into this mess!"
Silsi clenched her hands to her temples. "Why are we always arguing?" she exclaimed. "There's been nothing but bickering ever since we left Esdi. Can't it wait until we're out of trouble? We can fight all we want when we're back home. Marchero didn't kill Aeyris and the others."
"Your flying did," Garath said flatly.
"Garath!" Arrachachak snapped. He rolled over to offer a sympathetic reply to Silsi, but she appeared more angered than hurt. She glared at Garath, then stomped out into the bathroom. When she emerged a minute later her face and hair around it were damp with water, but she seemed to have regained her temper.
"It's tough without Aeyris," Sawaka declared. "We're now missing a leader, and we need one. No offence to Kirrik, but you're an outsider."
"As such, I'll make an observation, then," he announced. "Aeyris was a good man, as far as a pirate can be, and you all seemed content to let him lead you. From what I've seen you are all too used to following to take over his position."
"That's true." Mu shook his head sadly. "Look at us! None of us have even shown any desire to take over his position."
"You aren't much good as typical pirates," Kirrik noted. "Most of the ones I've met jump at any chance to finish off their superiors and take their position."
"We've done that together," Sawaka told him seriously. "Once we were part of a bigger organisation. Aeyris was sometimes ruthless in moving his way up, and he succeeded with our help, and we benefited from it."
"And are now left with a problem," Kirrik reminded her. "If you want someone to get you back, I'll help you, and then leave you free."
"Can we trust you?" Arrachachak asked bluntly. "Or will you turn us in when we get back home? You can assist us for the time being, but I don't want you in sole command."
"There you are!" Kirrik said. "You're being assertive, and you're thinking of your companions. If you need one of your lot to follow, I think Arrachachak is as good as any."
There followed several days of recuperation. After three of them Marchero rejoined the group, although she was clearly in some discomfort and stayed much quieter than normal. Apart from the problems associated with tedium in a group forced together in the same place there were no further incidents. The doctors eventually raised screens around each bed to provide a little privacy.
The fate of the Constrictor was of only mild interest to most of them, but Kirrik was understandably concerned. He moaned about it on occasion to the others, but since the only crew of the ship they saw were the doctors he didn't raise the point with them.
During this time the vessel stayed apparently motionless. Not even the most sensitive-eyed amongst them could see any illumination on the other nearby vessels that could not be attributed to artificial lights from the small fleet, and the only ships they saw were the ones that had fled the post at Wolf 1421.
At last a crewman appeared, asking them all to follow him. They formed into a ragged group, with Kirrik supporting Marchero, and with the soldiers who had been guarding the door escorting them they were led through the ship.
The room they were shown to was spacious, with cushioned chairs and sofas scattered around in an informal circle. The far wall was entirely transparent, although all it looked out on were stars. A low table had been placed in the centre of the room, and a small selection of food and drink was laid out on it.
The alien commander was already there, standing across from the door. When everyone had entered the soldiers left, and he sat down.
"Help yourselves," he said, gesturing to the food. Some, but not all, of them did.
"Some of my officers have persuaded me that it is unfair to leave you uninformed. I think that giving you information you can do nothing about is a pointless exercise. Nevertheless. There are certain things that do need to be discussed."
"What's going to happen to us?" Mychov asked, rather predictably.
"That is one of the things to discuss. So far you have not attempted to cause us any serious trouble, and you have provided assistance. Your occasional outbursts are not unexpected, given the situation, and therefore I do not take them into account. You are not prisoners, but I need to know what you wish to do next."
"Return home," shrugged Kirrik. "Although I can't speak for everyone else."
"Home?" asked the alien. "In what sense?" He stood up, and walked to the massive window. At a quick command the lights in the room dimmed. "One of those stars is the original home of the human race." He pointed, although against the galactic backdrop it was impossible to tell precisely which sparkle of light he was indicating. "Arrangements can be made for any of you to visit. If you so desire, permanent habitation might be possible."
"That's rather generous," Mu said suspiciously.
"The likelihood of being able to return you to the place you came from is unknown. There is no civilised alternative. There is a price, however."
"Oh?"
"We observed you using an advanced anti-missile device during the fight. We want it. If you give it to us then we will also assist in repairing your ship and returning those who wish to go through your 'gateway'."
"Fine by me," Kirrik replied after a moment's thought.
"You surprise me," Marchero noted.
Kirrik sighed. "It's common technology back home, and the version in that ship is a standard one. I doubt you could slip an invasion fleet through that gate, and we'll be watching it from now on."
"If you get back," Silsi reminded him.
"The only way any threat is going to get to us," he continued, ignoring Silsi, "is through the Thargoids, and anyone who can manage that would probably end up with an ECM anyway. As well as impossibly strong ships."
"Thargoids?" the commander interrupted.
"The ECM anti-missile system was originally a Thargoid device that the Navy copied from captured ships."
"You're all forgetting something," Marchero pointed out smugly.
"Oh?"
"The Constrictor is obviously still around, and intact, otherwise he wouldn't be able to ask for bits of it."
"Correct," the alien informed her. "We grappled onto it and jumped here. That is why we are here. With the extra mass and the additional distortion to the Witchspace geometry we could not do more than make it a short way out of the area. Our hyperdrive burned out, which is why we are still here. A repair vessel has been summoned. Your ship is badly damaged, but not beyond repair, although it is of unusual technology and the quality of the repairs cannot be guaranteed."
They continued to discuss plans for some time. Some of them clearly wanted to stay, probably for the chance of having a clean criminal record. Kirrik, having no connections whatsoever with Sol and the surrounding area, and with a nagging sense of duty, wanted to return to the Galactic CoOperative as soon as possible. Others decided to wait a little and see what the place was like.
The repair dock was part of a huge station complex that could have accommodated a Dodo-type space station somewhere in its midst. The dull brown sphere of the third planet of Psi5 Aurigae lurked below, its small asteroid-sized moon a dark blob racing across the surface.
Somewhere in the tangle of station modules and docking arms the Constrictor was docked, with swarms of robots and living mechanics working on it around the clock. Its ECM system had been removed immediately upon arrival and quickly whisked away elsewhere. Kirrik attempted to supervise the work, but aside from clearing up the odd confusion about various basic aspects of the vessel's design he was unable to provide much help.