The Starwolves (3 page)

Velmeran was in a more hopeful mood once he knew what they would be hunting.
But as always, it seemed, his timing was bad to the end; the call had caught
him when he had just removed his armor. He was still securing the suit as the
lift carried him down to the bay while a fright deck crewmember, already in her
white armor trimmed in black, assisted him. He was still setting the controls
when the lift door snapped open.

The others were already at their ships, either in their cockpits or waiting
nearby as crewmembers made final adjustments. Vayelryn was already in her
ship, strapped in and helmeted; he hoped that her eagerness would be reflected
in her flying. She was the slowest, shakiest pilot of the lot; he had moved her
to the far right of the pack formation in the hope that she would not run
into anyone if she rode on the outside.

The twins Ferryn and Tregloran comprised the middle part of the pack's right
wing; Velmeran kept them together, since they seemed to work best that way.
They were his best pilots, perhaps because they had more ambition than the
rest. But Tregloran was also his greatest embarrassment; in the last month
he had once landed gear-up, although with no damage to his tough little
ship, and he had been the one who had ripped open the hold of that first
freighter. His problem was that he was entirely too eager. Ferryn's problem was
that she spent too much time watching out for her brother, and not enough
watching her own business.

Of the rest Velmeran had few worries. Merkollyn and the other two girls,
tall Gyllan and tiny Steena, would make good, reliable pilots. Delvon would
also be a good pilot once he lost his fear that he would lose control in a
tight turn.

Velmeran found Tregloran and Ferryn between their ships, either conspiring
or consoling each other. They looked up guiltily when they saw him watching
them, and all but shook inside their shells when he started in their direction.
Velmeran put on his charm, hoping that he radiated mature affection and
concern as befitted their teacher and pack leader. It was a difficult task,
considering that he was only five years older than they.

"Treg, you run in first and go after her star drive," he said.
"Ferryn, I want you be ready to go in second. You can have four turns
each."

"Us, Captain?" Tregloran asked. "Is this punishment for last
time?"

"This is what you are here to learn," Velmeran insisted.
"Take your time and set up your shots carefully – I am sure you can
do it. Consider it practice, for you are under no stress to bring this ship
down. Although the one who does take her gets first choice of anything on
board... within reason."

"Fair enough!" Tregloran exclaimed, as if that was all the
encouragement he needed to fly like a hundred-year veteran. Velmeran sent the
younger pilots to their ships and then hurried to his own. But at the last
moment he discovered the seeds of another plan, a way to solve his remaining
problem, and paused at Keth's fighter.

The older pilot was already in his cockpit, arguing With his attending
crewmember about the condition of some system on board his ship. He saw
Velmeran and waved the frustrated crewmember away.

"I was just thinking that you and I should hold back," Velmeran
called up to him. "I am giving this one to the twins for practice.
Valthyrra says that this is a big, slow ship, so they should have no problem.
They need the confidence as much as the practice."

"Oh, right!" Keth agreed enthusiastically; the bait had been
taken. He was pleased and flattered to be in on this little conspiracy, never
realizing that Velmeran only looked upon it as a chance to keep him out of the
way.

Velmeran hurried on to his own ship, aware that he was taking too long, and
feeling guilty for his deception when he realized that this would be Keth's
last time out. Most pilots were wise enough to retire in grace and honor before
they were asked. Keth was too proud, even if it was a false pride. He climbed
the boarding platform of his fighter, lifting himself with all four arms by the
overhead supports and lowering himself into the cockpit. He immediately
powered up the on-board systems and got a clear check. The conversion generator
purred gently, cycling its tremendous power back into itself.

"Do you know what Keth was complaining about?" he asked Benthoran
as the bay crew arrived to secure his straps.

"No, but I can imagine," the older crewmember said, frowning.
"His fighter is as worn out as he is. Maintenance said that only a new
ship would cure that, but Valthyrra put his request on hold."

"Of course," Velmeran agreed. "Save a new ship for someone
who can use it."

"Are you going?" Valthyrra dethanded suddenly over ship's com.

"Yes, M'Lady!" he replied, and held still as Benthoran
slipped the helmet over his head and closed the clips. He sealed the canopy and
powered up the main drives as the crew chief quickly withdrew the overhead
supports and the boarding platform. All of his fighters indicated ready, and
Velmeran relayed pack ready to flight control. The forward doors were
already going up, and Valthyrra gave them the count while it was still rising.
A row of red lights above the wide door began to flash, beginning at either end
and moving quickly to the large green light in the center.

Engines flaring, the nine little ships leaped out of their racks and
thundered out of the bay. They slipped casually into V formation and they
hurtled down the length of the Methryn's hull and shot out beneath her tapered
nose. Once clear, the ship at the tip of each wing moved to the center of the
pack, one above and one below. A moment later a second pack emerged from
beneath the carrier, moving into formation as it closed rapidly to a position
just behind the first.

Velmeran shifted power from the main drives to the star drive, and the two
packs moved unhesitantly with him into starflight. They accelerated rapidly to
overtake the freighter, setting a course to intercept the big ship. Velmeran
could feel the slow, heavy drone of her star drive distinctly. Pilots depended
more upon their inner senses than on scan, and visual was of no use at the
speeds they flew. The packs flew wing to wing even in starflight, at speeds
when Union pilots liked to put kilometers between each other, and yet with an
accuracy that no automatic system could match.

They overtook the freighter in seconds, still unaware of her pursuers.
Velmeran oriented by feel on the steady, rapid pulsing of the giant star drive.
He could also sense the fighters about him, like nine high voices holding a single
sustained note, and a second set of nine close behind. Far behind he could
still hear the gentle hum of the Methryn's main drives. Starwolves could
identify the size and type of ships by the frequency of their drives. Union
ships pulsed low and heavy, phasing lower as the size of the drive increased;
their warships phased more rapidly, forcing more power out of a crystal engine
at the expense of slowly burning it out. Starwolf ships sang in clear, sustained
tones; they knew how to get a great deal more power out of an engine without
tearing it up.

The pack moved in close behind the freighter and matched her speed, breaking
formation. Tregloran had first chance; he dove in with frightening speed and
locked on the freighter's tail with surprising ease. But his prey was aware of
him now; she executed a series of slow but elaborate turns and dodges, but
he was still waiting when she righted herself and fired everything he had. That
unfortunately included his tail cannon, and Velmeran had to jump to save
his left wing. Several of his bolts caught the star drive too far near its
outer edge and discharged into the flare.

Ferryn dropped into place immediately and tried to follow up on her
brother's attack, but the freighter resumed her evasions. Ferryn held back
until her chance came, then rushed forward. She fired too soon; her first bolts
were deflected by the freighter's shields while her later shots were too near
the center of the star drive and dissipated in the backwash of far greater
energy.

Tregloran, greatly daring, began his run almost on his sister's tail, this
time catching the freighter before she had time to evade. Velmeran doubted that
he could make that work, for such tactics, while he might have observed their
like from experienced pilots, were beyond his limited skill. But luck was with
him that run, or else the promised reward inspired him to perforthance
beyond what he would give for duty, ship or pack leader. A bolt slipped past on
just the fringe of the star drive's flare, striking the immense crystal within
centimeters of its outer edge. The drive flare intensified and exploded in a
sudden, sustained flash as the damaged crystal melted from the core.

The freighter dropped out of starflight with an abruptness that almost
twisted her apart, and the pack was upon her instantly. They saw her now for
the first time; she was long and fat, her forward cabin extended forward of the
holds, with generator and drives in a blocklike module behind. Now the
fighters began their strafing runs at her bridge, as the freighter did her best
to run sublight under her main drives.

It did not take long. A final shot found her bridge and discharged. With the
main computer gone, the freighter quietly shut down her drives and major
systems, leaving only lighting and atmosphere as she drifted in silence. Velmeran
came in alone and sat just twenty meters off the ruined bridge while the
short-range scanners of his ship probed for any sign of life. There was none,
nor were any major systems in operation.

Now the capture ships moved in. Long and slender of body, almost all
generator and drive systems, they approached the lifeless bulk of the
freighter cautiously from behind. The pair moved in slowly, one to either side
of the ship's ruined drive section. Three pairs of long, sturdy mechanical
arms unfolded from their slender bellies to press their flat locking plates
against the freighter's hull. Those locked down magnetically, and the capture
ships pulled themselves close against the larger vessel's hull. Firing their
main drives simultaneously, they slowly brought the drifting hulk around on a
new course, back to where the Methryn waited patiently.

Velmeran thought that he had reason to be pleased, for his pack had flown
well. They had run down and captured a fairly large freighter, nearly as big as
they came, her damage limited to her star drive and bridge. He knew that her
holds were full by the way she had slid through her turns; freighters were
generally built to the specifications of an empty ship and running with cargo,
as they were meant, actually strained their capacities. This run had been a
victory for him as much as it had for his students. He was beginning to
overcome self-doubt and indecision, and to look forward with hope to greater
successes. Victory had a very sweet taste, and it was very addictive.

At that moment disaster was snatched from the jaws of victory.

Velmeran was instantly aware of a vague presence far behind him, at the very
limit of his senses. It was remote and indistinct, like a very low, distant
throbbing beneath the high voices of the ships about him. But, as each second
passed, it grew louder and more certain. All too soon he had absolutely no
doubt.

"I feel ships behind us!" he announced over com. "Cut loose
that freighter and get out fast. This may be a trap."

The two capture ships cut acceleration and released their hold, leaving the
freighter to drift as they shot away. The packs did not wait; Velmeran brought
his around in a tight circle, turning back to meet this new threat, and Baressa's
pack followed closely. The Starwolves were fearful of traps, for too often
freighters exploded under attack or soon after capture. Sometimes their cargoes
were volatile, but more often the freighters themselves were decoys and loaded
with explosives. Such a trap had destroyed most of Velmeran's first pack,
leaving only himself, Keth and Strata.

Valthyrra Methryn and her crew were just as quick to react. The Methryn,
waiting just outside the system, fired her main drives and began to move in at
her best sublight speed. Every fighter, transport and capture ship was made
ready. Damage-control crews stood by while the bridge crew waited at their
stations, ready to take control of their parts of the giant ship should
Valthyrra have to shift her attention elsewhere.

"Velmeran, What is it?" Mayelna dethanded over com. She had to
take over the supervision of the packs, since Valthyrra was preoccupied with
preparing herself for battle.

"Ships," he answered simply.

She looked up as Valthyrra's camera pod moved toward her. "I can
just make them out, sixty-five units from our present location and approaching
rapidly. I count two carriers and three battleships, with about twenty escorts
ranging from stingships to destroyers."

"And that freighter?" Mayelna asked.

"It never exploded," the ship explained. "No trap. My guess
is that the attack run proceeded too far into system and was observed. The
local comthander is either trying to scare us away, or else he believes in his
good luck."

"We do not scare," Mayelna said coldly.

"No, not from this," the ship agreed. "I already have a pack
in each bay. They will go as soon as they have pilots."

Mayelna bent over the com controls in the arm of her chair. "Help is
coming. Can you and Baressa distract them for about five minutes?"

"They are already on their way," Valthyrra reported, amused.

"We are closing to attack," Velmeran answered. "Tell
Valthyrra to keep herself clear."

Indeed he had long since led both packs into low starflight speeds,
rushing into the depths of the system ahead to intercept the approaching ships
as far from the Methryn as they could. The small fleet was coming toward them
at about the same speed; for Union pilots, taking a ship into starflight within
the confines of a planetary system was an act of either desperation or daring.
Baressa had never said a word, so Velmeran assumed that she was following his
lead. He was surprised by that; Baressa was not easily impressed.