Captain Tarrel’s response to this problem was as clever and effective as circumstances allowed. She made the best determination she could about just where in the Sector Starwolves were most likely to be found. Carthaginian was taken into that region at the battleship’s best speed, and they began issuing an achronic message that Lt. Commander Pesca had assembled, the best he could manage for the purpose of attracting Starwolf attention in a constructive as opposed to a destructive manner. This matter required many hasty explanations on Tarrel’s own part, since System and Fleet Commanders they encountered along the way were not sympathetic to a Union battleship advertising for the chance to talk with Starwolves. It had even gotten them fired upon in one rather remote and provincial system, but the diplomatic pass issued by Sector Commander Lake himself settled all other arguments. Especially since refusal to recognize that pass could be considered an act of treason.
A full week of searching brought them their first positive lead. Not only had a Starwolf carrier passed through one independent system only three days earlier, it had stopped for planet leave and had left only a few short hours before. Independents were not as a rule willing to help the Union, but a single battleship trying to attract the attention of Starwolves was such a novelty that they were willing to help. As they obviously saw it, if a Union battleship wanted to find trouble, who were they to interfere? Unfortunately, they did not know where the Starwolves had gone next.
Tarrel retreated with Chagin to the reference terminal on one corner of the bridge, for a hasty consultation with the local star charts. Pesca invited himself to join them, on the assumption that his wisdom and experience would be useful.
“The obvious choice is this one,” Chagin said after studying the map for a moment. ‘/Two days out for us, but twelve light-years closer than the second nearest system to this one. The third choice in about sixty light-years or so and not a very obvious jump.”
“You don’t seem to trust the obvious choice,” Tarrel pointed out.
Chagin frowned. “Because it is obvious. Anyone looking for them would go there first. ”
“Do they have any reason to think that anyone would be following them?” she asked.
“No, certainly not.”
“And is anyone who might be following them likely to cut in ahead of them and prepare an ambush?”
“I concede the point,” Chagin agreed. “But that’s exactly the problem. We’re behind them now. They just had a leave, so they’re not likely to stop anywhere for long any time soon. Can we overtake them now?”
“No, of course not,” Tarrel agreed. “That’s why we have to anticipate their move three jumps ahead and intercept them here.”
The first officer looked at the place she indicated on the chart. “Yes, their steps from this next one are fairly limited. Unless they suddenly turn well out of their way, they will go here and then here.”
“While we can cut directly across at top speed and intercept them in only five days.”
“Can we do it?” he asked.
“We have to. I can’t anticipate their move after that, not with three very likely choices,” Tarrel said, then dropped her voice. “From this time on, I want one of us on the bridge at all times. Those first seconds after encountering a Starwolf carrier are ticklish ones. Under no circumstances can we allow something to slip, or they’ll scorch us.”
“Anything I can do, Captain?” Pesca asked.
“Just stay out of my chair, Wally.”
That encounter was not at all likely to happen until they reached the system in question, unless the Starwolves did intercept their achronic message and pull Carthaginian out of starflight. Captain Tarrel counted the days, and she found herself half wishing that they would not find the carrier. If she did not find the Starwolves after a certain amount of time, she intended to take her ship back to Vinthra and turn the whole matter over to Commander Lake. He could wait for Starwolves to come into system in their own good time and then issue them a polite invitation to parlay.
They dropped out of starflight farther into the system than anticipated, a common variance—either too far in or out— after a long run at very high speed. Carthaginian engaged her forward main drives and decelerated rapidly, settling into a slow prowl as she began a continuous series of active scanner sweeps and transmitted her message. Starwolves were notoriously spooky and Captain Tarrel wanted to give them plenty of time to get used to the thought of being hailed by a Union battleship. She had no way of knowing just how far the carrier could be behind them, if at all.
“Minimum local traffic,’* the surveillance officer reported before he was asked. “Nothing unexpected.”
“The System Commander is calling,” communications added. “They have heard our transmission and request an explanation. No one sounds particularly upset about it, however.”
“Invoke our diplomatic pass,” Tarrel said. “Ask them to keep the local chatter and scanner sweeps to a minimum. No need to be pompous as long as the locals are willing to help. Our survivors might need to be rescued later on.”
Her humor was appreciated by all but Lt. Commander Pesca, who was pale.
As it happened, she had almost guessed wrong. The Starwolves were there before her. The carrier appeared suddenly on scan almost directly behind them, passing swiftly over the Carthaginian before matching speed barely twice her own great length ahead of the battleship, clearly visible now on the main bridge viewscreen. Then she rotated slowly, until she was facing them, a vast black hull vaguely in the shape of an arrowhead, her short, slightly downs wept wings protecting her main drives. Her color was an unreflective black, difficult enough to see against space, even at close range. There were no windows to betray her presence with their glow, although she did have her recognition lights burning as a courtesy. That was actually encouraging.
If there was trouble, Tarrel decided that the Starwolves could not have been more obliging in stationing their immense carrier directly in front of her missile racks. She doubted that those missiles could do the great ship any harm, but they might provide enough distraction to get her own ship to the vague safety of starflight.
“Message coming in,” communications reported. “No visual.”
“I’ll take it at my station,” Tarrel said.
“I should take it,” Pesca offered in his excitement. “I am the linguist.”
“You’re also an asshole, and neither attribute qualifies you for this,” she snapped, then addressed the communication unit at her station. “This is Captain Tarrel of the battleship Carthaginian. We wish to parlay on an urgent matter.”
“This is Trendaessa Kerridayen,” the response came, a strong female voice. “Just what seems to be the problem?”
Tarrel was surprised at that lack of concern. It made her wonder if the Starwolves found her battleship at all threatening. “Some large ship is moving through our systems, destroying every ship and station it finds. The situation is very alarming to us.”
“So?”
No sympathy there. “So, we were wondering if the Starwolves were behind this, or if we have an alien threat to deal with.” “No. It is not Starwolves.”
Tarrel was grateful that this was not a visual link, since she could not stop herself from making faces. “I have encountered this machine on three separate occasions. My opinion is that this is an automated weapon designed to seek out and destroy all power sources it encounters in space. It is also my opinion that a single Starwolf carrier could not fight it.”
“Is that a fact? You seem to expect us to do something about it.”
“This monster is efficient and absolutely merciless,” she said. “We cannot fight it. Damn it, we can’t even see it. Our military ships might be one thing, but this beast eats commercial ships and stations, both our own and the independents, without discrimination, and we can’t protect them. System Commander Lake has empowered me to negotiate for your help, even to the point of declaring a truce between us.”
“On our ter
ms?”
“On just about any terms.”
“My word, this thing does have you people rattled. I suspect that I would do best to call Commander Daerran to the bridge. That way, you only have to explain all of this once.”
“I can wait,” Tarrel agreed.
She muted the communication unit and leaned back in her seat, thinking that she had not started out at all well. She decided now that the Starwolf ship’s odd manner had been deliberate, intended to keep her from presenting a prepared speech in the way she might have meant, possibly flustering her enough to say things she did not intend. She would have to be more oh her guard.
“I thought that Starwolves didn’t have last names,” Pesca commented.
“They don’t,” she said. “That was the ship.”
“The ship?” He was obviously greatly surprised. “Do you mean that their ships can talk?”
“They use sentient computer systems completely integrated into their carriers,” Tarrel explained; “That way, their captains can circumvent the need to.ever talk to knock-headed crew-members.”
At least that first tense moment of contact had passed, and the Starwolves were willing to talk rather than shoot first and ask no questions at all. She considered that a professional accomplishment, since one of her primary goals as the captain of a battleship was to avoid all fights that she had no way of winning. One of the greatest problems about being a Union captain was always being out-classed, not only in technology but also in raw size, and she was pragmatic enough to realize that Goliath won most of the time. There had once been a time when she had thought her seven hundred meters of battleship to be quite large. “Captain Tarrel?”
She opened the line. “This is Captain Janus Tarrel.”
“Yes, this is Commander Daerran of the Kerridayen,” he responded. “My ship has played back for me the record of your communication to this point, and I agree that you have a most serious problem. Do you have reason to fear, that your civilization, or at least large segments of your civilization might be in danger of destruction if we do not intervene?”
“Yes, I do,” Tarrel insisted. “Very few of our worlds, or the independent colonies for that matter, are self-sufficient to any high degree. The destruction of ships and commercial stations could bring interplanetary shipping to a halt on a regional scale, causing technological collapse.”
“Actually, the problem is rather more serious than I suspect your people are even aware,” the Starwolf said. “Your interplanetary economy is a very fragile one at best. That is why we have always been very selective in the type and amount of shipping we capture or destroy.”
“That’s very kind of you,” she remarked, trying unsuccessfully not to sound too critical.
“Do not mention it. If it had ever been our intention simply to destroy your civilization, we could have done that in a matter of weeks, at any time.” There was a short pause. “Captain, would you be willing to come aboard the Kerridayen with any information you might have on this machine? I believe that Trendaessa should have a good look at what you know and we will see what she can make of it.”
Captain Tarrel had to consider that very quickly. “Yes, I believe that I should come aboard. What is the recommended method for that?”
“We can receive your shuttle, or send one over to collect you,” the Starwolf said. “The simplest thing in the long run would be to take your ship directly into one of our holding bays, so that you can have access to your own ship at any time you wish. But we can understand if you are not willing to trust us that much.”
“Thank you, Commander. Perhaps it would be easiest all the way around to have you take Carthaginian into your bay. What should we do to prepare?”
“Just close down your drives, shields and navigational systems, and your main generators. The Kerridayen will position herself and bring your ship into the holding bay with her handling arms. I will see you in the bay in a few minutes.”
Tarrel was not entirely pleased at allowing her ship to be taken aboard the Starwolf carrier, but she did not fail to recognize what a gesture of trust this was on both sides. The Union had laid too many traps and decoys for Starwolves in the past, a rare few of which had actually been effective. Commander Daerran was being rather gracious, not conceited, in his pretense that he and his great ship had nothing to fear. Such indications were very encouraging. She could see, however, that certain members of her crew were not so willing to trust. Chagin, for one, obviously thought that going aboard the carrier was one thing, but going aboard, ship and all, was quite another.
“We’re safer there, even if things do turn out badly,” she told him. “As long as we remain outside, their safest and quickest way of dealing with us is to shoot. Once aboard, we’re completely at their mercy, and I do trust their mercy. They might keep the ship, but they will keep us safe and return us soon enough. But I don’t see any reason why things should fall out at this point. You have command. No heroics, and no suicide attacks. You might be able to destroy this carrier from the inside by exploding the generators—and don’t think they don’t know that—but we might need every one of these ships to defend our worlds. What if more Dreadnoughts turn up?”
“I understand, Captain,” Chagin assured her. “As you say, they won’t want to do anything to scare us once they do have us in that bay.”
“I’m supposed to go along this time,” Pesca suggested brightly. “That is my primary mission objective now, you know. If we meet with Starwolves, I’m to listen to them and try to learn their language.”
Tarrel turned to glare at him. “Wally, if the Starwolves use their own language around us so seldom that linguists haven’t figured it out before now, then what the hell is the use of knowing it?”
Pesca looked shocked. “I never thought of that.”
“Did you ever do anything to Sector Commander Lake that he sent you along on this mission just to be rid of you?”
“No, I really don’t think so. I try to remember all the people that I’ve annoyed.”
“Then you must be my punishment,” Tarrel decided. “Very well, you can go with me. If the Starwolves think that most of us are just like you, they might just take pity on us and chase away the Dreadnought for us.”
“That’s not very nice,” he complained.
“I am not a nice person,” Tarrel insisted. “Chagin, have you ever known me to be a nice person?”
Chagin shook his head emphatically. “Never, ever.”
The actual docking took place more quickly than the crew of the Carthaginian had expected. Kerridayen rotated herself and then dropped back until her starboard holding bay was directly above the battleship, leaving some members of her crew to reflect upon the size of a vessel capable of holding a Union battleship in either of two bays. The bay itself opened outward in the belly of the carrier, between and slightly ahead of her two sets of forward main drives, a great well of brilliant light in the dull black hull of the massive ship. Unfortunately, the view that could be had from any of the bridge monitors was not good. After a brief moment, a distant mechanical boom echoed through Carthaginian’s hull as the Kerridayen’s handling arms made contact with the battleship and drew her into the hold.
“Commander Tarrel?” Daerran called, only moments later. She took the message at her station. “Captain Tarrel.”
“Excuse me. For us, Captain is the leader of a pack of fighters, while the Commander has the entire ship.”
“For us, Commander is any person of command grade,” she explained. “We use Captain for the commander of a ship out of tradition.”
“I will remember that. I was going to say that we have set a docking tube at what appears to us to be your main airlock. But you do not have to worry about accidents, whatever door you might open. We have provided atmosphere within the bay.” “When do you want me to come over?”
“Any time you desire. Someone will be at the docking tube to escort you to the bridge.”
Captain Tarrel put on her best dr
ess uniform, told Pesca that she would have him court-martialed if he said so much as a single word, and took him to the main port airlock, with its wide double doors generally employed as a primary access at station dock. A quick glance out the window to one side of the lock had shown her that the docking tube was indeed waiting. She found, somewhat to her surprise, that the interior of the carrier was rather cool. This was enemy territory, the place that was death for humans to go; to her knowledge, she was the first Union officer ever to be invited aboard one of their carriers. Although the Starwolves rescued many from disabled ships each year, prisoners were usually kept very close to the bays and never saw the deep portions of the great ships. There was so much mystique woven about the Starwolves that she found herself honestly afraid to proceed, though she had thought herself too clever and jaded for such instinctive fears.
She was by no means prepared for her first sight of living Starwolves in their own element. Nine of them, wearing their black armored suits—which she recognized from their number and color as indicating that they formed a pack of fighter pilots— waited in the small lounge at the inner end of the tube. They were small people, all of them noticeably shorter than herself. Their appearance was vaguely human, although their vast, dark eyes and large pointed ears made them look more elfin. Their greatest obvious difference was the fact that they possessed two sets of arms, a second pair just below the normal arms and shoulders of her own race. She had heard stories of their lightning reflexes and their crushing strength. In spite of their small stature and delicate features, she could believe everything she had ever heard, although a more rational part of her mind argued that the black armor-plated suits made them appear more massive and menacing than they actually were.
At least they were courteous as they escorted her and Pesca to the lift—the fastest that she had ever ridden—and took them up to the Kerridayen’s bridge. Commander Daerran was waiting to greet her personally. He was the first Starwolf that she had ever seen not in armor, dressed as he was in what might have been a uniform of white tunic and pants. He seemed at the same time to be smaller than the pilots who had greeted her outside the docking tube, as she had expected, but she could also see how heavily muscled his small frame actually was. Of course, it was not bulk alone that gave the Starwolves their tremendous strength and speed. Theirs was an artificial race, created completely by genetic engineering, and even their most basic biochemistry was entirely their own. The fact that they looked vaguely human was an arbitrary factor, for there was no actual genetic relationship between the two races.
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