Battle of the Ring

by Thorarinn Gunnarsson

  “These are the general specifications for the jump drive,” the young Kelvessa explained as he began handing over microdisks, sheets, and booklets. “This is the helm manual, what your helm and navigator need to know to set up jumps manually. And these are the specifications, detailed enough for you to repair the generator or even – fortune forbid – build a new one.”

  “Can you read that?” Consherra asked Lenna as they looked over the helm manual. Lenna was now very conversant in the Kelvessan language, although she still had some trouble reading technical material.

  “Big words,” Lenna answered, a vague reply at best.

  Commander Laroose entered the bridge at that moment, and Velmeran left Consherra and her assistant to work out matters themselves. Laroose was watching Lenna closely, still unsure of what to make of her after all this time.

  “I see that you are using your new hand,” Laroose remarked.

  “I am trying to remember to,” Velmeran amended, demonstrating the hand that he had grown. “It works now, even if it is a bit small yet. At this point it will only continue to get larger for another week or so.”

  “That is amazing. And speaking of getting bigger...”

  Consherra afforded him a tolerant stare. She remained on the ship now, where no one noticed – or pretended not to notice – that she could no longer button the lower half of her tunic over a round belly. With only days to go, she would not get any larger. Nor was she nearly as large as humans got, since Kelvessan young were born half the size of their two-armed counterparts, nor even as large as a Feldenneh, whose cubs always traveled in pairs.

  “At least I can now be sure of having this over with before we leave airdock in four weeks,” she said. “Obviously, nature does not take into account that we have ships to run.”

  “I can appreciate that,” Laroose agreed. “The joke around the station is that all pregnant Kelvessan must be from the Methryn. It’s a purely inside joke to ask who the father is.”

  Velmeran looked uncomfortable, although it was hardly his fault that over a third of the Methryn’s female population was pregnant. Baressa had brought forth a son only days before, and those few who knew conveniently forgot that Baress was not the real father. But Valthyrra made no attempt to hide her amusement.

  “What became of your long-legged friend?” Laroose asked. “It occurs to me that I haven’t seen the Valtrytian in quite some time.”

  “Keflyn left about seven weeks ago to collect some things she needed, although she should be back any day now,” Velmeran explained. “She has decided to stay with us. She says that she has more to teach than she could even begin in only six months. And we can use another teacher.”

  “Can she handle life with the Starwolves?”

  “She says that she can handle the accelerations as well as Lenna can, and the cold bothers her even less. She certainly has more fur.”

  “On the other hand, she wears no clothes.” He shrugged. “It’s your business. It just seems to me that she’s changing you into something I can no longer understand. The truth be known, I probably understand you better than I used to think I did. And you Starwolves are something of a different breed from the Kelvessan we have around here.”

  “Perhaps it is because we do not live in close contact with other races, and are freer to be ourselves,” Velmeran suggested. “One race cannot live completely immersed within the society of another without becoming like it in some ways.”

  “And you’ll be taking our Kelvessan away to their new home before very much longer,” Laroose added wistfully. “And mine will be a sadder world when you do.”

  Venn Keflyn returned in five days. She came bearing gifts, although she quietly hauled her crated toys to a small storage hold assigned to her without the slightest hint of their contents. She also brought the promise that others would come soon to teach the psychic arts on other ships and the Kelvessan on Alkayja.

  Velmeran was very happy to have her back, although his present happiness was in fact the result of several factors. The ship was nearly back in one piece; all the new drives were in place, and his own device for cracking quartzite shielding had been successfully tested. Lenna was very happy and very much her old self. And Consherra could have her child at any moment now. Velmeran could find no practical explanation for why that fairly common event should be of any special concern to him, especially when Consherra herself did not appear at all concerned. The fact remained, however, that he could barely contain his excitement.

  He had gone with Keflyn and Tregloran to meet Laroose at the construction airdock where the frame for the new carrier was being laid, suspended in free-fall in the confines of the vast chamber. As they watched, a piece of metal longer than a Union battleship was being pushed gently into place by a team of construction tenders.

  “Is the Vardon’s current design any different from what we have always used?” Velmeran asked.

  “At this point, no,” Laroose replied. “We want to avoid any noticeable change in the outward form that would identify the Vardon as different from the other ships. At this time, our only definite plan is to hide a second conversion cannon inside a slightly wider cannon sheath. Those new missiles of your design go into existing launch tubes. Unless you draw up some new designs yourself, I anticipate no other changes.”

  Velmeran considered that a moment. “Are you inviting me to redesign that ship however I please?”

  “You can do whatever you damn well please, and I’ll see that it’s done,” Laroose promised him with a conspiratorial grin, suspecting what the young Starwolf had in mind.

  “Well, there might be a certain value in having a flagship of the Starwolf fleet, something that looks bigger and meaner than the usual big, mean carrier. Something that states in no uncertain terms that Velmeran and the Methryn have arrived.”

  “But that is not the Methryn,” Keflyn pointed out. “What would Valthyrra have to say?”

  “Actually, it would be very simple to transfer Valthyrra and her memory cells into this new ship, and I suspect that she would covet the opportunity. Which is why I do not want her to know of this until something definite is decided. We can always give Theralda Vardon the old Methryn.”

  “While we’re on the subject, I received a bit of news a few minutes ago,” Laroose interrupted. “It seems that Donalt Trace is alive and well. Or alive and recovering, you might say.”

  “He survived?” Velmeran was incredulous.

  The tall human nodded gravely. “They had to reskin him and give him a set of mechanical arms, but he’s hardly the worse for wear.”

  “Val traron” the Starwolf muttered to himself. “Did he salvage his professional career, or did they hold him to blame for losing the Challenger?”

  “That’s the damnedest part. They seem to think that he’s some rare species of hero. That’s how we heard of this. He was just appointed the newly created High Commander of the Union Fleet, giving him authority over all the Sector Fleets.”

  “Well, bully for him!” Velmeran stated in disgust. “Now he really will know how to make my life miserable. What about his old position in the Rane Sector?”

  “Oh, that went to that diminutive shadow of his, that Maeken Kea. They’ve become a pair, as far as the Union is concerned. He’s the best thing to come along since the Unification, and she’s a close second. Bless me if I know what they...” Laroose paused to watch Velmeran closely, as did the others. His eyes unfocused like the twin lenses of a camera pod. Then he leaped up so suddenly that the others jumped in nervous response.

  “Vey von schess! Aval trenon de altrys caldayson! Vey von schess!” he exclaimed as he ran from the observation deck, Tregloran only a second behind. “I have to get back to the Methryn.”

  Keflyn perked her ears and started to follow.

  “Wait!” Laroose called after her. “What did he say?”

  “Vey von schess! the Aldessa replied. “It is here.”

  “What is here? What does it mean?”


  “I have no idea, but it must be very important,” she called over her back as she trotted out the door.

  The construction bay was over a third of the way around the, huge station from where the Methryn was moored. There were no convenient lifts, and the small trams were slow and had the habit of stopping every half kilometer. The quickest way Velmeran knew to reach his ship, short of teleportation, was to run. At a sustained speed of seventy-five kilometers per hour, he and Tregloran covered that distance in half an hour. Keflyn, with her two-meter legs and tremendous strength, could match that with difficulty. Commander Laroose, who knew a few tricks from long experience, commandeered a tug and arrived slightly ahead of the others, catching up with them at the Methryn’s airlock.

  The mystery was revealed when the lift let them out at the Methryn’s medical section. Velmeran rushed into the main reception room just as Dyenlerra stepped out of a smaller room.

  “Where? Where?” he demanded frantically.

  “There! There!” she exclaimed mockingly, jumping and gesturing to the room she had just left. “You wait here.”

  She disappeared into the room, leaving the astonished Velmeran standing in the middle of the main foyer. A moment later Consherra emerged from that same room. It was the first time in three months that she had been able to button a shirt all the way down.

  “Where are you going?” Velmeran asked, mystified.

  “Back to the bridge,” she replied. “I was supervising the repairs when this began, and I thought that I should be getting back.”

  Keflyn twitched her ears but said nothing. After all, anyone who could lift six tons would not consider this anything more than a half-hour diversion from one’s normal schedule. Consherra had been expecting this for half a year, so the novelty had certainly worn off. But that was not the case for the rest of the crew. Lenna arrived at that moment, and Baress was only seconds behind.

  Then the almost tangible sense of anticipation was transformed into an audible sigh of relief as Dyenlerra returned bearing a tiny patient cradled in her four arms. Tiny was indeed the word, for young Kelvessan seldom weighted more than a kilo at birth. Nor did they look any more alien from their human counterparts than at this time of life. She was in most ways a miniature of the adult, a tiny body with long, slender arms and legs and a large head with immense eyes. This remarkably advanced state of development included a full set of teeth and a thick, disheveled mane of brown hair that extended just past the upper shoulders. She sat upright in Dyenlerra’s hands, staring about in a bemused but curious fashion.

  “Congratulations, Commander,” the medic said as she transferred the little one into his arms. “It’s a wolf.”

  Father and daughter stared at each other with the same vacant mystification. The little Kelvessa’s curiosity was insatiable, reflected in vast eyes that peered out in wonder beneath an unruly shock of hair. She stared up at Velmeran with special interest, as if she sensed a closer tie with him. She reached up and took hold of his nose with a hand too small to fit around it and made an inquisitive chirping sound. Velmeran smiled.

  “What a wonderful, wonderful thing this is,” he said softly. “What an incredibly delightful young lady she is. Of all the wonders I have seen, this is surely the greatest.”

  “Privately, I have to admit that I could not be more pleased,” Consherra said, moving close beside him to brush the hair out of the little one’s eyes. “And nothing makes me happier than to see how happy you are.”

  “I cannot get over how fully developed she is,” Lenna commented, stepping up for a closer look.

  “A matter of necessity,” Dyenlerra explained. “Our young have to be born hardy enough to endure the demands of life on a warship. She will be walking in a few hours, and speaking simple words by the end of the week. She will be starting to school in three months.”

  “Our babies must sleep their first few months, but she doesn’t look sleepy.”

  “Sleepy?” the medic asked in astonishment. “Kelvessan do not sleep.”

  “Then pity the poor mothers!” Lenna declared. “Does she have a name?”

  Velmeran looked at Consherra, who smiled gently. “I have not given the subject any thought, to tell the truth. So I thought that I might leave that to you. If you wish. I thought that you might want to name her after your mother.”

  Velmeran shook his head slowly. “It would not be fair to expect her to relive a memory, especially a memory that is not her own. But I would like it very much if Venn Keflyn would lend her name to the cause.”

  “My name?” Keflyn asked, momentarily astonished. “I would be honored, to say the least. But how would that come out in the way you often adapt our names to feminine use. Keflenna?”

  “No, just Keflyn,” he said. “That is a purely human conceit that we acquired long ago, this idea that males and females cannot have the same names. If that is all right with you.”

  “I like it very much,” Consherra agreed eagerly.

  “Then Keflyn it is,” Velmeran proclaimed as he passed the tiny Kelvessa into Venn Keflyn’s hands. Then he placed his arms around Consherra’s shoulders as he led her off into a quiet corner of the room, leaving the others to admire the Methryn’s newest crewmember. Unnoticed for the moment, Tregloran and Lenna slipped their arms around each other comfortably.

  “Do you still feel quite so lonely?” Consherra asked.

  “No, not hardly,” he assured her. “It never occurred to me that I could mean so much to so many people, or that so many people could mean so much to me. But the most important thing that I have found is that I could never be alone as long as I have just you with me. Your love is exceeded only by your patience.”

  Consherra smiled and settled comfortably into his arms. “Is that what you like about me, that I am the only one with the patience for you?”

  “I love you for just being you. Patience is just one of your many virtues, and the one that you should be most grateful for. Why in the name of sanity did you ever decide to love me?”

  “It was decided for me, so I have never given it much thought,” she replied. “True love, with no reasons or excuses. How could I not love you? Still, if it is all the same to you, I would rather not go through this more often than once every fifty years.”

  They wrapped their arms tightly around each other and kissed warmly and gently, without a thought for the tight knot of visitors gathered around the tiny object of interest.

  “Eee-yow!”

  They glanced up in surprise at that unexpected howl of pain. Little Keflyn, now in Lenna’s firm but astonished care, had wrapped a small hand around Venn Keflyn’s finger and was unknowingly applying bone-crushing pressure.

  “Get her off, please!” the Aldessa pleaded to the astonished onlookers. “Do not hurt her, and for pity’s sake do not hurt me! Just do something to loosen that killer grip. Varth, val trenon de altrys caldayson!”

  “Half a moment,” Dyenlerra promised, and gently pried her loose. Everyone was surprised by the sight of a newborn Kelvessa bringing an Aldessa – and a Venn warrior – quite literally to her knees. The only thing stronger, it seemed, was an adult Kelvessa. Lenna, looking a bit dazed, eagerly transferred the bundle of joy and brute strength into Baressa’s waiting arms.

  “Talk about a bouncing baby!” Commander Laroose remarked.

  “It might be wise for the non-Kelvessan to restrict themselves to looking until she learns to control her strength,” Valthyrra said. She had entered unnoticed during the excitement and now brought her probe forward to face Laroose. “I would have been here sooner, but the station is on full alert and the system fleet has been mobilized. You promised when you ordered these things that you would discover the cause and report back.”

  “Oh, my word!” Laroose exclaimed. “When Velmeran turned and ran yelling who-knows-what, I just assumed that he had some premonition of immediate danger. Where can I find a com to Station Control?”

  “On that desk,” Valthyrra said, indicating with he
r camera pod the desk beside the outer door.

  Trying his best not to look contrite under the stares of the others, Laroose walked over to the desk and sat down, studying the com unit for a moment before pressing a button. “Station Control? Commander Laroose here.”

  “Yes, Commander,” the eager reply came. “What is wrong?”

  “Wrong? Nothing is wrong!” he declared. “Issue this report. Commander Velmeran and First Mate Consherra, the Methryn’s helm, now have a young daughter by the name of Keflyn.”

  “Glad to hear it, but why did that require the mobilization of the system fleet?”

  “Why, to celebrate!”

  Taking advantage of his mistake, Laroose ordered the fleet to pass in honor formation, firing their cannons in salute while packs of fighters executed fantastic maneuvers. Then the station, clearly visible in the night sky of the world below, flashed its bright exterior lights for a full rotation of the planet so that the entire population of Alkayja could observe the spectacle. If Velmeran and Consherra considered that a little much for such a common occurrence, they soon learned that it was indeed a cause for celebration as thousands gathered outside the Methryn’s refitting bay and millions more throughout the Republic sent messages of congratulations and various small gifts during the next week. All in praise of the smallest Starwolf in the fleet.

  Velmeran paused at the entrance of the bridge. In spite of the fact that his office and cabin were immediately behind the bridge, he had honored Consherra’s and Valthyrra’s entreaties to stay away until the repairs were complete. Now he returned for the first time since he had spoken with Valthyrra there after his return from the Challenger. At first glance he could tell no difference, except that everything looked shiny new for the first time in nearly a century. A second glance merely confirmed the first.