Tactical Error s-3

by Thorarinn Gunnarsson

  “What, humans?”

  “No, politicians.” He turned to Valthyrra. “What about it, old chips? Who is this Alac Delike?”

  Valthyrra would have shrugged if she could, and she did a fair approximation as it was. “No information. Elections were a little over four months ago, and this — political creature — must have moved to the head of the class at that time. In my experience, I would predict that you are about to find that we have been used as a pawn in a tactical maneuver known as political grandstanding, an artificially generated crisis or overblown event designed to create favorable notoriety for the party perpetrating the hoax.”

  Velmeran shook his head. “Sometimes you sound like Bill. If that is the case, then we embarrass them thoroughly and publicly and put them in their place, and then we go about our business.”

  “And if it is a Union trap?” Consherra asked. Velmeran did not discount that possibility, which was why he went to this little meeting in white armor and cape, with both guns at his belt and a very impressive array of small but formidable weapons hidden about his person. He was met at the main airlock by a pair of security officers in the green-gray uniforms of the Senatorial Guard. They turned without a word, marching him smartly through the corridors of the station to a lift reserved for official use. This delivered the small group to the station’s government compound in a matter of minutes, an area richly carpeted and paneled in real wood.

  This was an area of the station that Velmeran knew well from past visits, that portion of the command sector reserved for official use, mostly as the space-side extension of the Senate. The two guards delivered him to the wide double doors of a conference room near the lift, leaving him with the suspicion that he had just been shuttled through the station as quickly, quietly, and inconspicuously as possible.

  The doors opened and Velmeran stepped inside. It was hard for someone as small as a Kelvessan to swagger, especially in the presence of tall humans of undegenerate stock, but Velmeran’s suit of heavy, white armor helped to make up for that. Even so, the three men seated in deep lounge chairs scattered about the room did not seem especially impressed. Velmeran could tell from the looks of detached appraisal he received that he was about to be told what was expected of him and sent away.

  “Yes, Commander Velmeran.” A rather tall, lean man of middle years rose to greet him, but did not extend his hand. “I’m Alac Delike. I would like to introduce First Senator Arlon Saith, and Party Chairman Marten Alberes.”

  “What party?” Velmeran interrupted, determined to prevent these people from putting him entirely on the defensive.

  “The National Republic Alliance, of course,” Alberes replied. He was a short and rather heavy man who looked like he could find better things to do than talk to Starwolves. The answer itself seemed satisfactory enough; all Velmeran knew for certain was that it was one of the old, respected parties. The very concept of politics was a mystery to nearly all Kelvessan, since human politics were contrary to their own social instincts.

  “I must conclude this business quickly,” Velmeran said. “I do have people out on very sensitive missions, and I must respond to a call from one of those parties immediately.”

  “No, no. Your secret missions are no longer important,” Delike insisted, pleased with himself. “The war is over.”

  Of all the nonsense Velmeran expected to hear, that was not it.

  Delike began to pace slowly, as if unable to contain his enthusiasm. “Yes, it is quite true. We’ve only recently signed a treaty of peace.”

  “We did?” Velmeran was still confused. “Who won?”

  First Senator Saith laughed aloud. “Nobody won or lost, you little fool. The treaty calls for a mutual cessation of all hostilities and a return of normal commerce and political relations.”

  “You have to understand that the Republic has never been entirely supportive of this war, and no one can deny that it has gone on too long,” Delike added quickly. “It is one thing to defend ourselves from aggression, but we feel that we cannot be in the business of protecting rebellious colonists and smugglers from prosecution for their crimes.”

  “Those worlds are our allies,” Velmeran protested, although he recognized the futility of arguing with these three self-satisfied politicians.

  “The terms of the treaty are clear,” President Delike said, now softly and sternly. “It defines for all times the boundaries both of the Union and of the Republic. All space and every world within that limit are their own, to govern according to their own laws and policies. We will no longer interfere in or question their internal policies.”

  “I see,” Velmeran commented quietly.

  “There is also to be a partial disarmament as a part of this process,” Delike continued, with the grace to look uncomfortable for what he had to say. “They will scrap their fleet of Fortresses, and we will remove the Starwolves.”

  “Could I have a definition of ‘remove’?” Velmeran asked politely.

  “The Starwolves are weapons of war, created for the purpose of war,” Saith explained without reservation. “The carrier fleet is to be scrapped. Those Kelvessan known as the Starwolves are to be destroyed, since they are trained in the habits of warfare and will always be dangerous. The rest of the race of Kelvessan will be sterilized to prevent continuation of the race, and they will in time be selectively sold to private concerns.”

  “That means slavery,” Velmeran pointed out. “The Kelvessan are citizens of the Republic, not property.”

  “The Second Ammendment of the Republic Charter has been revoked,” Alberes said. “The Kelvessan have reverted to property of the state.”

  “The Second Ammendment cannot legally be revoked.”

  “It has, all the same, been formally revoked by Senate vote,” President Delike concluded almost apologetically. Velmeran could not determine whether he disapproved of these measures, or if he was simply afraid to explain his actions to the Starwolves. “When the Kelvessan were genetically designed, they were given encoded instructions to always obey human commands. I am therefore invoking that control. You are ordered to comply with our commands, and you will assist us in ordering the recall of the entire Starwolf fleet. You will now return to your ship and await further orders.”

  Velmeran seemed to struggle with himself for a moment, then nodded with obvious reluctance. Alberes leaned back in his chair with a smile of deep satisfaction, and even Delike was relieved enough to cease his nervous pacing and return to his seat. That told Velmeran that they had been unsure of their ability to order him until it was tried. Considering the reputation he had, he was surprised that they had not experimented beforehand with other Kelvessan.

  “Do as you are told,” Delike continued, silently prompted by Satin’s stern stare. “You will return to your ship in the company of your guards. They will stay with you and help you to remember your orders. You will order your crew to place all portable weapons in shipping crates that will be set in the corridors outside the airlocks, and to begin disassembly of all of your ship’s major weapons. Admiral Laroose will be along later to help you to attend the other two carriers now in port.”

  Velmeran turned and walked out, the three men watching him in silence. The same two security officers were waiting outside the door, falling in step beside him as they escorted him back to the lift. He knew now that these two fine gentlemen were not his guides but his guards, his appointed conscience to insure his compliance with his orders. The problem now was figuring out what he was going to do about a situation that he certainly did not like. If they needed his help in disarming the other carriers, it would indicate that the other Starwolves were no happier about this situation than himself and quite possibly refusing to be boarded.

  The lift doors opened, and Velmeran suddenly found himself in the company of an old friend. Admiral Laroose had not been a particularly young man when they had first met, more than twenty years earlier. Now he was old, white-haired, and bent of back, and he seemed to be under the b
urden of more than just the years, but also a deep sadness and regret. Velmeran had been instructed to take his orders from this man, an indication that Laroose was still in charge of dismantling his outlawed fleet. But he had some hope that Laroose did not completely agree with this new policy, and would perhaps even be willing to help.

  “Come along,” he issued the tired, impatient command. “We might as well get this business started.”

  “Good to see you again, as well,” Velmeran returned pleasantly as the guards hurried them along the corridor, with little enough respect for either the Admiral’s age or rank.

  “Don’t give me that, Starwolf,” Laroose said sharply. “I’m just here to do what I have to do.”

  “I hope that I can understand your position on this matter perfectly,” Velmeran ventured in return.

  “It seems that you do,” Laroose responded, with a brief sly glance at the Starwolf.

  It seemed that the Methryn was no longer an object of such interest as it had been earlier, since there were now only the routine docking crews in the corridor outside the airlocks. The authorities seemed to feel very certain that they had everything under perfect control. The group marched down the long tube of the docking probe. Baressa and her pack, all dressed in black armor, met them at the airlock. The two guards apparently saw nothing in this to concern them.

  “I need you up on the bridge,” Velmeran told his pack leader quietly. “And send Baress up as well. The rest of your pack is to seal this lock and let no one through. Gentlemen, if you will follow me.”

  The members of the bridge crew were certainly surprised to see the company that Velmeran was keeping when he stepped off the lift. Valthyrra snapped her camera pod around so quickly that the hinges in the boom popped. Venn Keflyn had put in a rare appearance of her own, standing before the viewscreen with a very thoughtful look on her furry face. Velmeran walked immediately to the center of the bridge.

  “I have been told that the Republic is under new management,” he addressed the crew. “There is now peace between the Republic and the Union. The carriers are to be dismantled and the Starwolves put to death. The rest of the Kelvessan are to be sterilized and sold into slavery. These two gentlemen are here to see that we comply.”

  “Vethfarkmeerl!” Consherra commented in their own language, glaring at the two guards standing impassively behind Velmeran with crossed arms.

  “My sentiments exactly,” Velmeran agreed, turning to Baressa. “These two are to be given something to induce pleasant dreams, packed into a shipping container, and left in the corridor outside the main airlock.”

  The security officers looked startled and reached for their guns, only to find that they had empty holsters. Shrugging innocently, Velmeran brought a pair of guns out from beneath his cape. “Never trust a Kelvessan. They will take anything they can get their nasty little hands on, and they can move so quick that you may never see them.”

  Baressa gathered the pair up and marched them back to the lift. Velmeran stared, waiting patiently until they were gone.

  Admiral Laroose relaxed for the first time. “Your enemies in the Senate believe that Kelvessan must instinctively obey orders given to them by their human masters. I assume that they are in error.”

  “I should certainly hope so!” Venn Keflyn declared with some indignation. “The Aldessan may have genetically created the Kelvessan, but we would never have programmed any race with an instinctive subservience to another.”

  “I cannot imagine where they even got such a ridiculous idea,” Velmeran said as he watched Baressa lead the two guards away. “Just what is going on here? How did these people get in power?”

  “By the usual method,” Laroose said, shaking his head sadly and shrugging. “Nothing of what has happened was a part of their campaign platform. It was, if anything, a very dull, low-keyed election. They had been in office for a couple of months, doing nothing of consequence except the usual housekeeping, when they suddenly announced that they had been approached by the Union with an offer to end the war. Considering how long the war has been going on, that came as if they had said they had sold the sky and the stars. Everyone was so shocked that no one has collected their wits enough to protest when they began announcing new policies. They told you that they revoked the Second Amendment of the Charter?”

  “They said that it has been revoked by Senate vote,” Velmeran said. “That is not legal.”

  “No, not at all. And it was not done by vote, strictly speaking. Delike annulled the Ammendment by Presidential veto, nearly five hundred centuries after the fact, and the Senate was unable to override his veto, with Alberes pulling party support by intimidation. I decided to play along, since it would leave me in a position to intercept you quickly when you came in.”

  “I hardly have the time to solve everyone’s problems at once,” Velmeran complained to himself. He considered the problem briefly, then glanced up at Valthyrra. “Did you get me private communication with those other carriers?”

  “Ready and waiting,” the ship replied. “You might be pleased to know that both the Delvon and the Valdayen have kept themselves sealed, refusing to be boarded until they could talk to you. Of course, with their noses pushed up inside their bays, they could not send or receive achronic signals.”

  Velmeran nodded. “Tell them to stand by, that we will be getting out of here in a few minutes. Have them copy every order I give, at the very same time. My word, I wish that Treg was here.”

  “If you wait a while, he probably will be,” Consherra remarked.

  “He promised to guard our patrol until he hears from us.” He turned as Baress entered the bridge. “I have a very important task for you. Your friend Baressa will be bringing a shipping crate full of unconscious guards through the main airlock to leave outside. Valthyrra will arrange to have additional crates — empty — brought out at about five-minute intervals. You, Trel, and Marlena will go outside to stand guard over those crates, which are theoretically filled with our weapons. At my signal, you will go to this bay’s control room and pull the emergency docking brace release and get yourself back on board as quickly as you can manage.”

  “What about the docking probes?” he asked.

  “You can hardly do anything about that and still get back on board the ship, and may the Great Spirit of Space help anyone we may happen to leave behind. There is no danger to the station, since the bay has its own atmosphere.” He turned back to Valthyrra as Baress hurried to carry out his orders. “Have you relayed those instructions to the other ships?”

  “They comply,” the ship agreed. “In fact, they seem to be tremendously pleased.”

  Velmeran turned to Admiral Laroose. “So what about it? Would you like to go along with us? We can put you overboard in one of those shipping crates with our two duteous friends.”

  Laroose shrugged. “Before I answer that, can I ask what you intend to do about this mess? I cannot see you abandoning the rest of the Kelvessan to slavery.”

  “How long can I stay away before they begin this plan of sterilizing and selling the Kelvessan?” Velmeran asked in return. “I was left with the feeling that this is something yet to be.”

  The human shook his head slowly. “It’s not even been announced publicly yet, and a long way from being put into effect. They do have to move cautiously on certain points or they’ll have this business blow up in their faces, and they know it. Weeks, if not months. If the Starwolves revolt, public opinion may make it impossible for a long time to come.”

  “Two weeks at most is all I need,” Velmeran said, mostly to himself. “You see, I know a few things that your people here do not. There have been rumors bouncing about that the Union has finally found a way to fight and defeat Starwolves for all time. I sent Lenna Makayen to investigate, and less than an hour ago she sent back word saying that it is the end of civilization as we know it. This might sound like the alarmist predictions of a militaristic mind, but I cannot believe that they will keep the peace if t
hey have a way to finally defeat us.”

  “But why are they trying to get us to destroy the Starwolves for them?” Laroose asked.

  “It would be nice for them if it works,” he answered. “It creates a fair amount of confusion under any circumstances. Did you really expect that the Starwolves would submit to having themselves and their ships destroyed?”

  “Not for a moment.”

  “Neither would they. But where does it leave us? Either the Starwolves become renegades trying to operate without the support of the Republic behind us, or else we end up fighting ourselves. This was all designed to throw us into confusion, and it has cost them nothing.”

  “The first shipping crate has been moved into the station,” Valthyrra reported. “Baress is standing by, with Trel and Marlena to cover him. The Delvon is at this same stage, and the Valdayen will be ready in a moment. Should we have packs standing ready?”

  “Standing ready,” Velmeran agreed. “But we will not put out any ships unless we must. Our intention is to catch them by complete surprise and to run before they can mobilize to stop us. My intention this time is to leave them with something to think about.”

  “And then?” Valthyrra asked.

  “Then we come back as soon as we can assemble the fleet,” he answered. “They committed a major crime against the Kelvessan race when they revoked the Second Ammendment, and that gives us the opening we need. I am sure that they will see our side of things when they find themselves looking out the window at the noses of twenty Starwolf carriers.”

  He leaned back against the front of the console of the central bridge, considering the problem carefully. He could not delay in answering Lenna’s call, and he did not dare to leave this problem at his back. He was very afraid of what might become of the Kelvessan in his absence, but he had to know what Lenna had found or it might be too late to stop a new offensive from the Union against the Starwolves. Having one major crisis was bad enough, but two at the same time was an almost impossible situation. The timing could not have been worse. He could imagine that Donalt Trace was laughing at him somewhere, thinking that his biggest surprise was yet to come.