“We have to do something about the Starwolves if we are going to be respected. They have been having their way with us ever since they broke into Vannkarn. And you can bet that Tryalna would not have been so quick to revolt if they had not been certain that the Starwolves would protect them.”
Richart Lake sat back for a moment, deep in thought. Trace knew that he was being lectured one last time before being sent off to complete his assigned task, but he accepted it in good grace. The unfortunate reality was that if he wanted the High Council to give him more of these very expensive ships, then he had to listen attentively to a certain amount of advice and words of wisdom.
“Do you believe that you can defeat a Starwolf carrier with this machine?” Lake asked after a moment.
“Yes, I know I can,” Trace replied quickly and certainly.
“Just stay away from Velmeran, if you can. He has a bag of tricks for every situation. His is a problem that we must work around, for now.”
Trace looked up at him. “Quite to the contrary, I should think. Velmeran is a problem that we cannot ignore; if we can eliminate him, the rest will be comparatively easy. This is my best chance to defeat him, before the Starwolves can develop any strategy against this new weapon.”
The Councilor considered that. “You might well be right. But you must also take whoever comes your way. I’m glad that you were able to get Maeken Kea to captain your ship, especially since the Krand sector helped us put up so much of the cost.”
“She is the best that I could find. True military geniuses are few and far between these days.”
“Geniuses of any type are few and far between anymore. That is why the situation is becoming so critical. We have to save ourselves while we are still smart enough to be able to do it. You will be on your way, then?”
“We have to get to Tryalna in time to do some good.”
“Then I must allow you to be about your business,” Lake said, and leaned over the desk to shake his hand. “Good luck, Don. I cannot tell you how important this is. But if you lose this ship because of your personal grudge against Velmeran, I’ll hang you out to dry when you get back.”
“Don’t worry about that. Besides, if I don’t win, there probably will be nothing left of me to send back.”
Maeken Kea was not at all sure she liked this. She had arrived on a military courier late the previous night, shown to a room — a suite — that was opulent beyond even her rank and reputation, and then pushed on board a small passenger shuttle the next morning to find herself in the company of no less than Sector Commander Donalt Trace. Now they were on their way back into space with an air of calm stealthiness that left her very uneasy.
Maeken was smart enough to figure a few things out for herself, since the Sector Commander sported a self-satisfied wait-and-see attitude toward this affair. She had been relieved of her command while she had still been trying to get her battleship into dock, informed that she was now attached to Union High Command. Her orders vaguely mentioned a new command. Well, she had heard a rumor that Donalt Trace was off his deathbed and running trials on a new ship that was supposed to be a match for a Starwolf carrier.
She did not much care for the prospect of commanding a ship designed to equal a Starwolf carrier, since it implied that she would be fighting Starwolves. She had once fought Starwolves and won, holding on to a very valuable piece of property her sector had wanted for a long time. A short but successful career bore out the fact that she was probably the Union’s best tactical genius. But she had no false pride in that regard. She knew that she could not take on the likes of Velmeran or Tryn or Schyranna and hope to win. And she certainly did not want to fight Starwolves under the command of someone like Donalt Trace. Rumor made him out to be either a fool or a madman, and either one was dangerous.
“What led you to choose the military?” Trace asked suddenly. Maeken glanced up, startled from her own thoughts.
“I hesitate to mention it, but it is really just an indulgence of my childhood fantasy,” she explained. “I love big ships.”
The Sector Commander laughed. “I might just have a ship for you! Would you be willing to fight Starwolves?”
Maeken shifted uneasily. “Do you mind if I do not answer at once? Yes, I would fight Starwolves if I had the right weapon. Do you have one to offer?”
“Your judgment of my new ship will be your answer?” Trace asked.
“If I think that I could defeat Starwolves with it, I might just be willing to try.”
Trace nodded. “That is reasonable. Of course, the burden of responsibility will not be yours alone. I will be going along with you, at least this first time out. The two of us together should be as smart and any Starwolf Commander.”
“Including Velmeran?”
“I hope so. But it is not our business to track down Velmeran or any other Starwolf. We are on our way to Tryalna to secure the planet against a Starwolf counterattack while our forces reestablish firm control.”
“Your weapon has such power?” she asked.
He nodded. “You see, the Starwolves were designed for a specific purpose, a very specific set of rules, and our mistake has always been in playing according to their rules. This new ship is designed to bring the advantage to our side, forcing them to play according to our rules. Their high-speed attacks, their swift reflexes, and ability to endure crushing stresses will no longer be of worth to them. We now have shields to counter their big guns, guns of our own powerful enough to pierce their shields. Look.”
Maeken brushed back her pale brown hair and leaned toward the window to see that they were overtaking a temporary station of some size. Temporary stations, as the name implied, were meant for temporary use, able to move where they were needed under their own power and be ready for immediate service. This one was clearly meant for military use, for she could see at a glance that it was heavily armored and sported cannons inside retractable turrets large enough to swallow their shuttle. But it was also dull black, nearly invisible against the stars in spite of its vast size. Starwolf color. Then she understood only too well.
“Your ship?” she asked simply.
Trace nodded. “This is what we call a Fortress.”
“Impressive,” Maeken remarked, recovering from her surprise. “Of course, I know that you are too smart to believe that simply building a bigger battleship than they have will give you any special advantage. What does this beast have that makes it so special?”
“Look at its design,” Trace said. “Begin with the engines. Notice that it has no main drives, just clusters of stardrives.”
That much she could see. The engines were arranged in hexagonal clusters of seven large drives, six on the outside with one in the center. The engine clusters were themselves arranged in a flattened hexagon on the rear of the drive housing, six outside with two, side by side, inside. They were large engines, at least half the size of the immense crystal drives that the Starwolves somehow synthesized for their carriers. And like the Starwolf ships, they had armored plates that closed like doors to protect them. Each engine also had a protective flaring that made shooting out a running drive very difficult.
“Each engine is a self-contained unit,” Trace explained. “Each is a module that contains its own generator, drive system, and controls. The same is true for each major cannon, which consists of generator, gun, and retractable focusing turret. These modules simply slip into sockets in the hull, where they merge with the central computer system. It is possible to change out every engine and cannon on this ship in only five hours’ time.
“The hull is composed of heavy armored plates, sloped to shed heavy bolts by deflection. Each plate is covered by a thin sheet of quartzite which, when infused with a defensive shield, becomes impenetrable to any bolt or missile the Starwolves can throw against it. In that way the body of the ship serves as an indestructible platform for its engines and cannons, which are the only vulnerable points.”
“And, as such, you have designed those
areas for rapid damage control and repair,” Maeken observed.
Trace nodded approvingly. “Exactly. A convoy of tenders will follow the Fortress — at a discreet distance. Engines and cannon modules are transported end to end in special racks that have their own drive units.
“This ship has the firepower and shielding of a major planetary defense system. Its cannons have nearly the power and range of those of a Starwolf carrier. But we have more guns; we can inflict more damage, and endure more damage, in the same amount of time. And, if a battle breaks out for a short time, we can repair our damage, while they cannot.”
“I like it so far,” Maeken said. “But I see one flaw. What about their conversion cannon? They might hesitate to use it on a planetary target, but it would be the ideal weapon against this machine.”
“It would seem so, yes,” Trace agreed. “They can convert enough mass to destroy a world in a single shot. But the Fortress can divert the energy of all its generators into a single defensive shell of tremendous power. Even damaged guns and engines can supply power, as long as their generators are operative. Simulations have shown that it can turn even that.”
“And this beast can move?” Maeken asked, staring out the window as they rounded the nose of the Fortress. The main forward battery was located here, as well as two more engine clusters to provide reverse thrust.
“Yes, it accelerates and handles as well as a Class A bulk freighter. Not all that fast for a warship, but that can get it where it needs to be.”
“But it cannot actively chase down a Starwolf carrier.” Maeken stated the obvious. “Then what is to keep them from simply ignoring it? If it was in my way, I would simply go around it.”
“I suppose they will, when they simply want to get past. But it cannot simply be ignored if it is guarding an inner world we want protected, or in orbit over a colony they want us to leave alone. Then they will have to deal with it first.”
Maeken considered that for a moment, and shrugged. “You seem to have thought of everything.”
“So, what do you think?” Trace asked. “Do you believe that you could fight Starwolves with this?”
Maeken looked at him sharply. “Are you giving me any choice?”
“Of course,” he insisted. “If you think that this is not right for you, that you cannot use it to best advantage, then you are completely free to return to your former command and tell your Sector Commander that Donalt Trace is as mad as rumor makes him out to be.”
Maeken leaned back in her seat and sighed heavily. “You are mad. And so am I, for that matter. Crazy as Treyvestrian Knock Beetles, so I guess that we were meant for each other. Who wants to grow old, anyway?”
“Well, they are safely gone,” Velmeran observed. The Velka, flying again under her own power, was cruising into the system as if she had made the entire run herself, rather than suspended in the belly of a Starwolf carrier. The Methryn held back; she had business elsewhere.
“I was beginning to wish that you had blasted them when you had the chance,” Valthyrra told him quietly, turning her camera; pod away from the main viewscreen.
“Have they really caused that much trouble?” Velmeran asked. “They never even came out of their ship.”
“All the same, that is the last that I want to see of Traders,”‘ Valthyrra insisted. “I have never before had a murder on my decks.”
“Attempted murder,” he corrected her. “A very near miss.”
“Well, Kella Mersans is their Captain now, just as I expected she would be, and she will keep them under firm control.”
“You expected?” Mayelna asked, looking up from her monitor for the first time. “Was that a premonition?”
“No, just an intelligent guess,” he insisted. “I refuse to believe in foretelling. The future is a variable. It can be predicted, in the honest sense of the word, but I cannot believe that anyone can actually see visions of what will come to pass.”
“Still, I wish that you would keep an open mind on this and any subject,” Mayelna said. “That is the only way to find out what you can do.”
“I cannot help wondering what we will do if these talents turn out to be fairly widespread,” Valthyrra added. “I suppose that we could carve up old drives to make crystal balls.”
“I hope that the two of you enjoy your fun at my expense,” Velmeran said coldly, and turned to Valthyrra. “And yes, I have had others come to me about developing their own talents. In fact, I already have two promising students.”
Valthyrra’s lenses nearly popped out of her pod. “How did you know what I was thinking?”
Velmeran looked at her in mock surprise. “I thought that we had already established that.”
“Yes, but I have chips for brains… as the Commander phrases it. How can you possibly read a mechanical mind?”
“How should I know? I am a simple telepath, not the Oracle of Delphi.”
“Wait a minute!” Mayelna said, calling him back. “Who are these promising students of yours?”
“Well, Consherra is becoming fairly good at her own card game. In fact, she is nearly as good as Tregloran.”
“Tregloran?” Valthyrra asked. “Of course. He is in many ways not unlike a lesser copy of yourself.”
“I cannot comment on that,” Velmeran said, obviously reluctant to make the same comparison. “But he is a cunning little sneak; even I am not aware of all of his schemes. And on his good days he can already outfly Baress.”
Just then the Methryn threw herself into starflight. Valthyrra’s camera pod glanced around cautiously, as if checking to see if she had made the jump intact.
“Ah, it feels good to run at normal speed again,” she remarked, and turned back to Velmeran. “I know that we should not tease you for your special talents. We have already learned that we must trust you, so please keep your ears open.”
“And what happens when I am wrong?” he asked.
“There is no need to worry about that,” she assured him. “As you pointed out, you are not the Oracle of Delphi.”
Unfortunately, Velmeran did not see it that way. As he took the lift back to his own cabin, he reflected that this was why he had kept his talents secret for the past two years. Now, if he gave warning and nothing went wrong, he would seem the fool and his reputation as a leader would suffer. And if something happened when he failed to give warning, he would be held accountable for his failure… or so it seemed to him.
He was surprised to find someone waiting for him in his cabin, and even more surprised to discover that it was Baressa. He could not imagine why she would seek him out now, unless something was wrong or she needed his help.
“Hello. Have you been waiting long?” he asked hesitantly as he paused just within the door, still astonished at finding her sitting at ease in his favorite chair.
“Not long,” Baressa replied, stretching her arms. “Consherra told me to come up a few minutes ago.”
“Oh? Is there something that I can do for you?”
“Well, to put it bluntly, I want you to get me pregnant.”
That was certainly putting it bluntly! Velmeran’s first impulse was to turn and run. He could not refuse flatly; by Starwolf custom, this was his duty, not a self-indulging privilege. And he knew that he could not come up with an excuse in time to save himself. But Baressa was prepared. Consherra had taught her well what to expect, and now she closed for the kill.
“You do not seem very willing,” she remarked, unobtrusively moving to place herself between him and the door. “Do you have some objection to accepting me as a mate?”
“No, of course not,” Velmeran insisted, retreating even farther into the room. “It just seems so… impersonal and contrived.”
“Impersonal? I am going to let you mate me until I turn up pregnant. That seems very personal to me,” she declared. “Meran, you have your chosen mate, and I have mine. And, to tell you the truth, I would prefer that Baress consider this his child, since he does not know that we can never have o
ne of our own. Just remember that I have done this before. Treg and Ferryn have no more idea of who their father is than you or I know of ours.”
“Yes, I know that,” Velmeran admitted reluctantly. “But I still find it very embarrassing.”
“Why? Because you know me?” Baressa asked.
“Yes. And because I do not want you to know that I really am not very good at this.”
Baressa shook her head in weary resignation. “Velmeran, I am not keeping score.”
Maeken Kea tried to settle herself in the Captain’s seat, which had obviously been made to accommodate the Sector Commander’s long frame. This chair was a throne of sorts, from which the Captain commanded his ship. She knew only that she felt like a little girl in this immense seat, her legs dangling and her small body almost lost between its massive arms.
Unfortunately, this chair was not her only obstacle in her command of this ship. She was at a disadvantage from the start, coming unprepared on board a ship that already had an experienced crew. So far she knew how to use the intership com and the lift, and most of the buttons on her console. A second major distraction to her effective command was that she was not certain just how much authority she possessed. In theory he was along only as an observer; that did not mean that he might later decide to start giving orders. At least her name and reputation commanded enough respect; Maeken Kea had once fought Starwolves and won. Not even Commander Trace could claim that. And on a ship designed for the sole purpose of fighting Starwolves, that meant a lot.
Actually, the crew was a surprisingly small concern. There were just over a hundred crewmembers in all, three teams of bridge officers, a medic, and a small cooking staff. That was a very sparse population indeed in twenty-five kilometers of ship, but it needed no more than that. The army of technicians and mechanists needed to keep this hulk in repair followed with their parts and equipment in the tenders.
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