"Valthyrra Methryn, you nosy machine!" Mayelna declared, leaping up in wrath.
Velmeran laughed. "Valthyrra Methryn knows all and sees all, however she can contrive it."
"You would think that I would know all her tricks too well by now," Mayelna said, watching the machine until it disappeared out the opposite door. She turned back to Velmeran. "I would not be foolish enough to ask you not to worry, but I do wish that you would not worry so much."
Mayelna returned to the bridge in time for their departure. Valthyrra had estimated forty hours to making their meeting with the Delvon. The Methryn could have made that jump in far less time. But she was fat with plunder and she was not about to risk having something break loose and damage itself, or her. She had even cast out her transports and capture ships to fly under their own power, so that she could stuff their holds with salvaged engines.
Mayelna paused for a moment in the right wing of the bridge. Tresha saw her and left her place at the forward console, indicating for her assistant to watch the screens.
"Commander, all systems are functioning well with recommended tolerances," the engineering officer reported. "This ship is in good order and battle-ready."
"Especially considering her age," Mayelna added. "You do not fool me! 'All systems functioning within recommended tolerances.' Indeed! You mean to imply that Her Worship could be better."
"I do not mean to imply that the ship is in need of repairs, nor unfit for battle," Tresha insisted. "But we should give serious thought to a complete overhaul in the next two or three years, especially if she means to fight hard and often."
"That has occurred to me already," Mayelna said. "If I can...
"All crewmembers stand by," Valthyrra announced suddenly. Everyone paused as they stood or sat and glanced up at the camera pod, but Valthyrra was staring unfocused at the main viewscreen, her attention on her scanners. "All crewmembers stand by. This is a class one battle alert. All on-duty personnel to their posts. All pilots to the bays. All damage-control parties stand by. All nonactive personnel will remove to the inner sections." She paused to switch channels. "All free transports and capture ships are to scatter immediately. Do not attack or approach any ships."
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?"
"Fo
r 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.
"But there was no way that they were going to fool the Captain," Tregloran continued blissfully. "He was on her tail the moment that carrier broke from the rest. And Baressa was right behind him."
Velmeran rose quietly and began to slip away, unobserved. He edged out the door, thinking that he had made his escape, only t
o find a small delegation of his fellow pack leaders. Then he knew he was in trouble. Barthan, young and cynical – for a Kelvessa – was the obvious leader of this group, with the older Train a close second. He was surprised to see Shayrn rounding out this group of malcontents; she had always been supportive of him in the past.
"Off to save a world, Captain?" Barthan inquired, radiating sarcastic displeasure. "We want to have a word with you. We would like to know what you thought you were doing out there."
"My duty," Velmeran replied evenly. "And I would like to know what you thought you were doing while I was out there."
"That is beside the point..."
"Is it?" Velmeran demanded. "My pack and I did your duty as well as our own. If you believe that you are better than I am, then you tell me why you were not there when you were needed."
"So we made a mistake," Barthan snapped impatiently. "Well, you made a bigger one when you decided that you could give us orders."
"You are not a senior pack leader," Train added. "In fact, you are the most junior pack leader on this ship. Baressa was senior, and she was out there with you. Why was she not giving the orders?"
"Perhaps because Baressa is smart enough to recognize a superior leader when it counts," Baressa answered for herself, seeming to appear out of the very air behind the three disgruntled pack leaders. She walked around them to stand beside Velmeran, obviously casting her support with him. "All this talk about junior and senior pack leaders is foolish. A few extra years of sitting in a fighter or wearing a rank does not make you better than anyone else. A good leader comes that way, ready-made, and you know it because you listen when he or she gives an order. And from now on I listen to him."
Shayrn was so moved by that endorsement that she abandoned her previous group, edging around to stand close to Baressa. Even Train looked doubtful. Only Barthan remained unconvinced.
"You could be Commander-designate if we pushed it," he reminded her.
The Starwolves Page 6