The Starwolves (8 page)

All the bridge crewmembers were already hurrying to their stations. Mayelna
climbed the steps to her own station on the upper bridge, just behind
Consherra. After all her words on laxness and inefficiency, she was only too
aware that she was the only one on the bridge not in armor.

"What is it?" she asked as she lifted herself into her seat by the
bars on her overhead console, not waiting for the seat to roll back.

The camera pod moved into the upper bridge, although it continued to
face forward, watching the viewscreens. "A freighter."

Mayelna glanced up. "A freighter?"

"Well... yes, a freighter," Valthyrra said. "Just now
dropping out of starflight to enter the system at high sublight
speeds."

"You find that odd?" the Commander prompted, knowing already that
there must be more.

"Well, it is a medium bulk freighter, nearly identical to the one now
in my hold," she explained. "My scanners indicate that it is empty of
both cargo and crew, although there is something in its hold that reminds me,
by its power output levels, of a fairly large total conversion bomb being powered
up for detonation."

"Another trap?" Mayelna asked. "No, the same one, twelve
hours late," Valthyrra replied cryptically. She turned her camera pod
abruptly to face Mayelna. "This is the bait that we were meant to take.
Circumstance, or poor planning on their part, put an identical freighter
on this same lane twelve hours earlier. The bomb was meant to destroy our packs
and perhaps even damage or disable me. That fleet was meant to take care of
anything that was left. They saw us chasing what they took to be their own bait
and launched their fleet before they were aware of their mistake."

Valthyrra moved her camera pod forward to the middle bridge.
"Consherra, take direct manual control. That ship has turned and is
driving at us. It is under remote control from the station now, and they will
try to get it close enough to detonate. Keep at least fifty thousand kilometers
between us, but evade the thing so as to keep it running in circles. Cargin,
keep a cannon on that ship but hold your fire until I say."

"What about yourself?" Mayelna asked.

"I am going to try to match frequencies and get that freighter under my
control."

"You do not have to pass control to me for that!" Consherra
protested, already fighting her manual controls.

"I know," Valthyrra agreed. "You need the practice. Do not
let that thing get close enough to blow me up, or I will likely never let you
fly this ship again."

The ship closed at speeds no real freighter could have achieved under the
burden of a full hold. Linked now to the station deep within the system, it was
engaged in a suicidal attack, driving hard at the larger ship in the hope of
getting near enough for the total conversion device it carried to be effective.
And Valthyrra judged that distance to be twenty-five thousand kilometers,
although such a thing could be hard to predict.

Consherra faced the difficult task of maintaining the proper distance, and
playing dodge with that little ship at three-quarters light speed made that
distance uncomfortably tight. But the Methryn was feeling her full
eighteen million tons, and she was shipping nearly two million extra tons
besides. The ships circled each other like two fierce predators; the freighter
kept turning back to dart at its target, and Consherra would use the
Methryn's superior acceleration and maneuverability to circle around
behind it.

"Just a little longer," Valthyrra gently assured her. "Hold
it steady."

"I am!" Consherra snapped, fighting the controls as the freighter
rushed in yet again. "I only have four hands!"

"Is there some point to this?" Mayelna asked impatiently.
"You cannot possibly want the thing. Where would you put it?"

"No, I do not want it," Valthyrra replied, the servos in her boom
humming against the strain of their tight turn. "The conversion device is
already powered up, so that ship is not safe to approach. I just want to prove
a point."

A moment later the freighter broke off its suicidal attack. It seemed
to pause for a moment, then turned in-system and accelerated to low
starflight speeds. Valthyrra Methryn held her camera pod at a decidedly smug
angle.

"Where is it going?" Mayelna asked, as mystified as the rest.
"Did they call off the attack?"

"No, I have control of it," the ship said. "I am teaching
them a lesson, a taste of their own medicine. Turn about is foul play, but fair
is fair to equal share and all's the same in love and war. I am returning the
favor... and the bomb."

"What the deuce are you babbling about?" Mayelna demanded.
"Do you mean to say that you are going to destroy their station with their
own bomb?"

"That, or at least scare them badly."

Valthyrra refused to explain, and the members of her bridge crew could only
watch the scan of the system schematics on her forward viewscreen as the
giant freighter hurtled inward toward the military station and the world it
circled. No one could believe that she intended to destroy not only the station
but the planet itself, for Starwolves would never reduce themselves to such
barbarity. And they were quite correct. Valthyrra waited until the final moment
before detonating the conversion device just short of target, doing no damage
but lighting up all space in that general area. They could well imagine every
loyal Unioner, beginning with the Station Commander, shaking with fright
in that fierce glare.

"All stations secure. Resume normal duties. Prepare for immediate
transfer to starflight," Valthyrra announced with total lack of concern.
She turned her camera pod to look at Consherra. "You have the coordinates.
Please recheck those figures a final time and execute the transfer to
starflight. Your speed will be fifty. You have the helm."

Valthyrra left the astonished first officer at her post, moving her camera
pod up into the upper bridge. Mayelna sat back in her seat, both sets of arms folded
on her chest. "Are you quite finished?"

"For now," Valthyrra replied. "What do you think?"

"About your aggressive new policy?" the Commander asked. "You
know that I do not agree with you completely, or you would not ask. I prefer
that we be a little more cautious. Our pilots – none of our pilots
– are used to real warfare. They are used to slow ships that do not fight
back."

"Pilots like Velmeran and his pack?" Valthyrra asked. "If the
performance of the entire ship is to be hampered by your hesitancy to send your
son into battle, then he must transfer out. I can arrange for Thenderra Delvon
to give us a pack in exchange."

Mayelna frowned. "You do know how to fight dirty. I would not part with
Velmeran for anything... and I say that as his Commander. He is just not ready.
He has not yet decided what he believes."

"He talks undecided, but he acts like he knows exactly what he
believes in, and what must be done. You said something to that effect
yourself."

"While you were eavesdropping through a vacuum cleaner," Mayelna
said accusingly, and sat back in silence. She rubbed her nose and pulled her
ear at regular intervals, thinking furiously. But, try as she could, she could
come up with no good excuse. "It is not just Velmeran. I feel responsible
for every pilot on board this ship. I would not send them out to something they
are not ready for."

"Of course," Valthyrra was quick to assure her. "Every person
on this ship is like a child to me. I am, after all, a mother ship."

"But this is what we were made for. And we will be as ready for it as
we possibly can be." Mayelna paused and glanced up at the camera pod.
"That means you as well. We are going to have to give serious thought to
an overhaul."

"Ah, me... well, yes," Valthyrra agreed weakly, although her
lenses appeared unfocused.

The lift door snapped open and Consherra, head down, stepped forward. She
immediately struck something large and black and bounced off with a sound like
a Class D freighter slamming into dock about three times faster than was good
for it. A head-on impact between two armored Kelvessan can be the closest
approximation of the meeting of the immovable object and the irresistible
force. Consherra was the smaller of the two and thereby lost the contest, the
weight of her armor, nearly equal to her own, got the better of her balance and
threatened to send her over backward. Four strong arms caught her, preventing a
certain fall.

"Are you all right?" Velmeran asked.

"Fine. Fine," she answered as she swatted his hands away and
pushed him back inside the lift. "Can we get out of here before anyone
comes to look?"

"I was hoping to find out what happened," Velmeran said, confused
by this hasty retreat.

"I know that," she replied irritably as she typed in the
coordinates for the area of her own cabin.

"So explain," Velmeran said. "I already know the general
history. What about the interesting little details?"

Consherra laughed. "The little details do seem to be the most
interesting these days. Then listen well, and forget who told you. Valthyrra
took matters into her own hands. In fact, she rather blatantly avoided telling
Mayelna what she was doing until it was done."

Velmeran nodded thoughtfully. "Valthyrra Methryn is ready for a fight,
but the Commander is hesitant. That is obvious enough. But why?"

"Simple enough," Consherra said, just a little pleased with
herself. "I know how those two operate, but I also know that Valthyrra is
the smarter of the two. Mayelna feels that it is her duty to protect the crew
of this ship, even above fulfilling the purpose of our existence. Valthyrra is
less cautious because she has a better understanding of how things stand. She
knows the real worth of this crew. She knows that she and Mayelna will quickly
work out a compromise of aggression and restraint."

Velmeran shrugged. "I knew that."

Consherra looked at him in astonishment and opened her mouth to demand an
explanation, but the lift door opened at that moment. She started to step out,
then deciding that she did not want to give Velmeran a chance to escape,
took him by the arm and brought him with her. Not releasing her hold on him,
she led the way quickly to her cabin and pulled him inside.

"What do you mean, you knew that?" she demanded almost before he
was inside.

Velmeran shrugged again. "When you have been an object of special
interest and contention between those two for as long as I have, you get to
know their tactics. Mayelna is bright, more so than you might think, but she is
not very subde. Valthyrra is the mistress of subdety, with the lessons of
eighteen thousand years of sneakiness behind her. If you will consider, then
you would know that Valthyrra almost always gets her way."

"If you know so much, then what were you trying to discover by going up
to the bridge?"

"Just confirming my suspicions," he replied. "What does it
matter to you anyway?"

"Do I have to have a reason?" Consherra asked in return.

"I was wondering," Velmeran said. "You are no gossip,
and yet you seem to make a point of informing me of how matters stand on the
bridge. I have to endure quite enough motherly ministrations from Fidgit and
Fanny without you joining in."

"Motherly ministrations?" Consherra demanded, and drew herself up
proudly. "One of the biggest questions on the upper bridge of late has
been the matter of the appointment of the Commander-designate. That person
has to be one of the pack leaders. You are in very high standing just now, and
very likely to get it. And as second in command, this is of considerable
importance to me."

She paused and stood glaring at him, as if awaiting some anticipated
reaction. But Velmeran did not seem to be particularly impressed. He stood
calmly, arms crossed, staring back at her. A long, tense moment of silence followed,
broken suddenly by the sound of Consherra's suit cycling on.

Velmeran smiled. "Now look, you have yourself all heated up. Your
thermostat must be wired to your temper. But you worry needlessly. We might be
on the bridge together in a hundred years or so, but just now I am neither
old enough nor respected enough to be accepted as Commander-designate."

"It is entirely Valthyrra's choice..."

"And Valthyrra is old enough to know better. A Commander must be
respected to be effective, and I do not have the respect of the pilots and
officers of this ship. If Valthyrra has indicated any favor toward me, then it
is only a game she is playing to get what she really wants."

"She is waiting for something," Consherra insisted.

"She is trying hard to encourage me to be a good pack leader, and that
is all," Velmeran said. "And just now I am finding it hard enough to
be that. Please do not complicate my life any more than it already is."

"Keth and I had been working on the same ship, so I was lucky enough to
be near when it happened," Tregloran explained to an appreciative audience
of younger pack members, nearly a score in all, gathered close about the table
where he sat with members of his own pack.

Velmeran, sitting alone several tables over, did his best not to listen. But
Kelvessan have ears like sonic dragons, one of the many gifts of their genetic
perfection. And just now his ears had a will of their own, tracing that
particular conversation to its source like scanners. At least he was pleased
with the younger pilot's honesty; Treg made it clear that he was much more an observer
to these events than a participant. Unfortunately, Velmeran also noticed
that his own role was more prominent than he remembered.

Then he noticed, to his dismay, that he was not the only one eavesdropping
on this tale. The dining hall was about as full as he had ever seen it, and
everyone, perhaps three hundred people in all, was listening attentively to
Tregloran as he unwittingly recited his story for the entire group. Velmeran
felt a moment of panic. His real desire was to silence his young pack member on
some pretext, but that would be too blatant. Instead he thought it time for a
hasty retreat.