“Where is she?”
“Walter, this is Valthyrra,” the ship said. “We use the standard Terran character set, so you will recognize that much. To deactivate the missile, type in the characters and numbers in reverse order of the access code that you will see inside the lid of the control panel. Can you do that?”
“I can’t see the numbers!” Pesca insisted, deeply frightened. “I don’t have a light. I can only see the keyboard because the keys are illuminated from the inside.”
“Walter, I will read you the sequence from my inventory. But you have to hurry, because you have only twenty seconds.” Valthyrra paused. “Damn. I suspect that he just fainted. ” “Give him back his oxygen,” Tarrel suggested.
“I did when I realized that he was willing to deactivate the missile. You will have to do it. The missile is only twenty meters ahead of you now.”
She looked up, but she could barely make out the black form of the missile drifting above the outer edge of the ventral groove. Pesca must have pushed against it as he passed out, for the tapered nose of the missile was swinging slowly out away from the ship. “Val, I’ll never get there in time. Do you have enough control of that missile to fire it away?”
“Yes, I do.”
“That’s the only way you can save yourself now. The nose of the missile is pointing away into open space, so get it the hell away from here now.”
“Walter Pesca might be caught in the drive wash,” the ship protested.
“Perhaps his suit will protect him,” Tarrel insisted. “Val, you gave me temporary command of this ship, and now you listen to me. I’m ordering you to fire that missile. The decision and the responsibility are entirely my own.”
The missile suddenly disappeared in a blinding flash of light that streaked away to disappear into the distance. Tarrel was still blinking from the flare of that drive when a second flash of brilliant light filled the blackness of space several kilometers out from the ship. She wondered at first if it had gotten away in time, when it seemed that the explosion was reaching out to take them, but the shock wave that moved across the ship seconds later was hardly enough to rock it gently, a light pressure that did not even threaten her hold on the hull. She turned and hurried to find Walter Pesca, fearful as Valthyrra had been that he had been caught in the tremendous energy of its drive wash.
“Captain, your companion did not make it,” Valthyrra said softly.
She stopped short. “He’s dead?”
“His suit telemetry stayed with the missile. I must suppose that he had fastened himself to it with a short tether.”
“Then he died in the explosion?”
“He did not survive the acceleration of the missile,” the ship answered. “I tracked his telemetry until the explosion. He was dead already.”
With nothing left to do, Captain Tarrel returned to the airlock and took the lift back to the bridge. She hardly knew what to think, the situation had arisen and was gone again so quickly. Her thoughts at the time had been only practical ones, above all her awareness that the survival of the Union, if not human civilization itself, could depend upon the welfare of these two ships. With the danger past, she now had time to realize that she had given an order that had caused the death of a junior officer under her command. Oddly, she felt vaguely disappointed with herself, with Walter Pesca, and with her own kind in general; having to face aliens after a demonstration of the violent failings of her own race. She did not know if the Starwolves would ever be able to understand the fear and suspicion that had driven Pesca mad, or if they agreed with her decision to sacrifice him to save the two carriers. They possessed the strength and speed to have gotten to that missile in time.
Commander Gelrayen had returned to the bridge by the time she arrived. He met her at the lift and led her into the corridor leading behind the bridge. “Are you well?”
“Yes, fine,” she insisted. “Is something else wrong?” “Valthyrra is taking it very hard,” he explained. “She has never had to kill anyone before. Fighting the Dreadnought was one thing, since its actual sentience is in doubt. But she had not anticipated that she would have to take a life deliberately anytime soon, no matter how necessary it was.”
“The choice was mine,” Tarrel answered. “I had been given the bridge, and it was my order as temporary commander of this ship. I told her that.”
“Even I cannot order Valthyrra against her will,” Gelrayen said. “She made the decision to do what you told her, and she was the one who actually fired that missile. She just needs a little time to adjust.”
“Is there anything that I can do?”
“Valthyrra will feel better when we get her repaired and under way on her own power. We have begun moving the main drives, and I need to get back to the repair crews. Will you watch the bridge for a while yet?”
Tarrel was surprised by that request. “Yes, I suppose. If you still trust me with your ship.”
Gelrayen smiled. “You have taken good care of her so far.”
10
After nearly three days of hard work, the Methryn was ready to get underway again under her own power, if only barely. She had half as many main drives working as she should have, and her star drives were expected to operate at only one-third of normal capacity, if that. A part of her sensor array remained out, along with her rear battery and some of her perimeter cannons, as well as several external cameras and a section of her heat exchange. All the same, she had been very lucky in many important respects. Her armor was completely intact, and her main battery and her shields were both fully operational, even at stealth intensity. Her star drives could be restored with only a modest amount of work, and the phasing crystals and major components could be salvaged from her four damaged main drives. Four or five days of work in a construction bay would have her in fighting condition once again.
The most serious problem she faced was being able to beg those repairs when she did return to Alkayja station. Opinions varied greatly aboard ship about whether she would be returning in favor or disgrace. She did not have detailed interior scans of the Dreadnought, but she had proven that it could be fought successfully. Valthyrra herself was very pessimistic. She remained very embarrassed over the incident with the incomplete water line that fueled her conversion generators, even if that had been the responsibility of the station construction crew. And that was directly responsible for the damage that she had suffered.
She also felt that she was very much to blame for the sabotage attempt and Walter Pesca’s subsequent death. She had known that he had been wandering the remote areas of the ship, spying, but she had assumed that it had been a part of his linguistic research and she had not anticipated that he would do her any harm. He certainly should not have been able to steal an entire conversion-warhead missile from out of her own launch tube. She saw that as giving her very bad marks for carelessness.
Captain Tarrel was delighted to point out that there was one advantage to the Methryn’s lame condition: The carrier was no longer capable of crushing accelerations. Valthyrra was herself polite enough not to" respond that she could still make at least one person’s life very miserable, even on only two main drives. They eventually made something of a running joke about it, which helped to restore a better mood aboard the ship. Although Tarrel was somewhat annoyed when the Kelvessan were so endlessly fascinated to find that she did indeed have a sense of humor.
She had accompanied Commander Gelrayen on a final inspection of the major comppnents of the ship. The star drives had been ready for some time and the functional main drives had not needed repair in the first place; they had only been moved. The two damaged main drives had been mounted into the two empty forward slots, being too valuable as salvage under the circumstances. Although the Starwolves never said a word on the subject, Tarrel suspected that they were also reluctant to leave large pieces of their machinery drifting about in Union space. With the inspection complete, they took a lift directly to the bridge to prepare for immediate departure
.
“Well, everything worked well enough when we powered up for a static test earlier,” Gelrayen remarked as the lift hurtled along the length of the ship. “Of course, we will know nothing for certain until we are actually underway, especially where those star drives are concerned.”
“We have to take the chance,” Tarrel commented. “Just as long as there were not too many parts left over, we should be all right.”
Gelrayen looked uncertain. “Actually, there were about a hundred thousand parts left over. I wonder if that is relevant, considering the size of the task.”
“Is that supposed to be funny, Starwolf?” Tarrel asked. She was still very worried about those star drives, knowing that the carrier would be going nowhere without those.
“I am very sure of my drives,” Valthyrra assured them over the lift com. “Captain Tarrel, the entire bridge crew wishes to express its delight that you do not need the protection of your armor due to my incapacitated state.”
Tarrel was not allowed time to wonder why the Starwolves would have been concerned about that, since the lift drew to a stop in the next moment and the doors snapped open. When she stepped out onto the bridge with Gelrayen, they could both see what the bridge crew had in mind. They were all seated at their stations, ready for duty, except that each and every one was completely naked.
“Kelvessan do appreciate a good joke,” Gelrayen said very softly as they went directly to the upper bridge, ignoring the dozen and more naked Starwolves who were studiously pretending that nothing had happened.
“I suppose that they must, considering the great lengths they will go to for the sake of a bad one,” Tarrel observed. She lifted herself into the seat at the Commander’s station. No matter how lame the Methryn might be, she would not try to ride out any acceleration standing up.
“Valthyrra, are you ready to get underway?” Gelrayen asked. She brought her camera pod around. “I am as ready as I can be.”
“Secure all bays and locks for flight and begin warming up your main line of generators.”
Kayendel glanced over her shoulder. “Commander, the members of the bridge crew would like very much to step outside for a moment to collect our proper uniforms.”
“No, I need for you people to stand by your manual controls until we see how those main drives are going to handle,” Gelrayen replied, as if refusing them with great reluctance. “We have a long haul ahead of us, and every minute counts. You can certainly understand that.”
They understood that he was taking advantage of the situation. “Commander, the Maeridan is moving clear,” Valthyrra reported. “Khallenda Maeridan reports that she will stand by until she knows that we are away, before she returns to her patrol. I have sent her and her crew my regards, in the innocent hope that I am going somewhere.”
“Well then, feed some power to those drives and we will see what happens,” Gelrayen told her.
There was really no reason to worry that the main drives would not work properly unless the Starwolves had not put them together right, and the static tests would have detected that. As it happened, everything functioned exactly as expected. The two rear drives engaged and built thrust to cruising power smoothly, phasing flawlessly all the way across that range. Although the Methryn did not leap forward with her usual vigor, she was still moving out smartly by Captain Tarrel’s standards.
“No worries or surprises,” Valthyrra reported. “I am increasing power slightly to move us on up toward threshold.”
“If you feel that you can handle it,” Gelrayen agreed. “The real test, of course, will be those star drives.”
“Commander, if the ship is performing well…” Kayendel began, turning in her seat to look up into the upper bridge.
Gelrayen motioned for her to turn around. “I understand your desire to maintain proper appearances, but I believe that we really should not leave the manual controls unsupervised until the Methym is safely in starflight. You do agree, Valthyrra?” “Oh, most certainly,” the ship insisted, swinging her camera pod around to the upper bridge. “I would feel better about it. Besides, Kelvessan hardly need to wear clothes in the first place. I doubt very much that you could be cold.”
“Well, I was thinking about Captain Tarrel,” Kayendel remarked.
“Are you bothered, Captain Tarrel?” Valthyrra asked.
“Not in the slightest,” she replied. As a matter of fact, about the only thing she could see of the Starwolves at the moment was the backs of their seats. But as far as it went, she did not think that the curious frames of the Kelvessan looked ail that human in the first place. Since they were without exception powerfully muscled, and were by design incapable of carrying any real fat, the natural state was actually quite becoming to them.
“The ride home is going to be a long one, “Valthyrra observed in a softer, less contrived tone of voice. “We will need fourteen days at our present speed to reach Alkayja. I do hope to adjust phasing on the star drives to run them slightly hot, which will give us an extra ten to fifteen percent. That might cut things to nine or ten days.”
“No danger to the drives?” Gelrayen asked.
“None. If we actually do get into starflight, that is. After that, my only concern is for what happens next. I believe that I have some feel for the way the Dreadnought behaves, and I wish to continue my mission. That will depend upon whether the Great Powers are pleased with my performance so far, or if they see only my mistakes. And if they have four new main drives to give me any time soon.”
“Finding parts for you will be the only problem,” the Commander assured her. “There is no question about whether or not you deserve them.”
Captain Tarrel said nothing, but she knew how unpredictable the Great Powers could be. She remembered how reluctant they had been to allow the Methryn to go out the first time, when actual battle had not been the purpose of her mission. No matter what they thought of her performance, she still might find herself passed over in favor of more experienced ships. Although Tarrel would not mention it aloud, she even wondered if the Methryn, rather than receive the repairs she needed, might find herself stripped of useful parts to keep some of the older carriers flying. Valthyrra might very well be going back into the construction bay for months, or even years.
For her own part, she suspected that she would be watching the next stage of this battle from the bridge of yet another ship. She even had to admit that it probably would be best for the Methryn if she did have to wait out the rest of the battle with the Dreadnought. She knew that it was largely a sentimental response on her own part, that she wanted to see this young carrier get her chance to fight. If she was asked, Tarrel certainly intended to testify that Valthyrra had proven herself quite clever and resourceful enough to have earned special consideration.
The trouble was that the Methryn had learned more than anyone had really expected, but still less than they needed to know. She had proven that the Dreadnought could be fought and even hurt, but even her brief scan during the moment that the alien weapon’s shield had been down had not revealed any great secrets. The ship continued to defy any interior scans, and little enough could be inferred from the limited exterior view. If Valthyrra had been going home with a clear idea of how to destroy the Dreadnought, those same Great Powers would find it harder to deny her.
“I am sitting at threshold,” Valthyrra announced soon enough. “Shall I attempt the transition into starflight?”
“When you feel ready,” Gelrayen told her.
“Ready to engage star drives,” she warned the bridge crew. “Stand by all manual controls.”
As it happened, the only failure that was likely to require any member of the bridge crew to intercede with manual controls was the failure of Valthyrra herself, and that was extremely unlikely to happen for any reason except for complete power loss. The star drives began to phase very smoothly, especially so because they were slow to develop even the limited power available to them; so gentle, in fact, that it seemed for a moment t
hat the carrier might even fail to pass threshold. Once she was in starflight, she continued to build speed at a leisurely but steady pace.
“I am settled into starflight to stay,” Valthyrra announced. “My drives might be weak, but they remain responsive. I will continue to build to my best cruising speed as things are before I try tampering with the star drives to boost their efficiency.” “Commander?” Kayendel asked; she was one of several crewmembers looking over their shoulders.
Gelrayen looked up at the camera pod. “Val?”
She knew what the game was, and she was eager enough to play along. “I really do not want any of those monitors or manual controls unsupervised for even a moment until I am settled into my best possible speed and we all feel certain that nothing will go wrong. Say, another ten hours? I hope that no one minds taking such a long watch without interruption.”
“We should be comfortable,” Kayendel remarked sourly as she turned back to her monitors.
Gelrayen was looking so amused, Captain Tarrel decided that it was time to take a part in their little game for herself. “Valthyrra, I have been thinking.”
The camera pod turned toward her. “You do it well.”
“You know, I have been very uncomfortable with the temperature aboard this ship since I first came aboard.” As a matter of fact, she really did not mind it much at all. “It occurred to me that part of the reason you have to keep it so cold is so that Kelvessan can wear clothes that, as you pointed out earlier, they hardly need. If none of the Starwolves aboard this ship wore their clothes, you could move up the temperatures to a level that I would find more comfortable.”
“Yes, that sounds very reasonable.” Valthyrra turned her camera pod to Gelrayen, who was looking very surprised by that time. “Commander, it would be very hospitable of us if we made that suggestion a standing order.”
Watching Gelrayen try to explain his way out of that one proved to be very entertaining.
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