Tactical Error

by Thorarinn Gunnarsson

  “Nor can your own people forget that as well, it seems,” Venn Keflyn said in return. “Perhaps your people should have a world of their own.”

  “People of many races can live as easily on any world, even with others,” he pointed out.

  “Yes. But the one thing that they all share is that, at one time in their history, they all came from a single home world,” she pointed out. “The Kelvessan are the one exception. Perhaps the time has come that you should find a world to call your own. Not to stand apart from others, but to have that one place where you can all stand together.”

  “Commander,” Valthyrra interrupted gently, moving her camera pod close. “We are ready. All three ships are standing by for your word.”

  He glanced over at Admiral Laroose. “What about it? Are you going along for the ride?”

  “I have to go back,” he said. “If I am not here, there will be no one about who is still a friend of the Kelvessan. And your people need a friend or two just now.”

  Velmeran nodded. “I could not ask that of you, but I very much need for you to watch things here until I return. I will have Baressa install you in your own shipping crate in a very polite and gentle manner, so that you will not be accused of complicity.”

  “ ...and hurry,” Valthyrra insisted.

  “Hurry,” Baress complained as he reached inside one of the shipping crates for his gun belt and helmet. “As if I need to be told to hurry.”

  He looked around as he belted on his guns. Fortunately the wide corridor that ringed the inside of the docking bays had remained mostly empty since Velmeran’s return. There was one pair of guards at the entrance to the bay’s control room, and another farther down the corridor on the passage to the main lift. The Commander had said nothing about being discreet, but he thought that he could scatter this lot without the need of actually shooting anyone.

  “I will try to make this very brief,” he told Trel and Marlena just before he slipped on his helmet.

  It seemed that the station guards had taken no notice of the three Starwolves preparing for battle. They drew their guns and took swift aim, filling the wide corridor in a sudden storm of bolts that exploded in flame and smoke against the walls and ceiling. The guards ducked their heads and dove for cover.

  Baress seized the moment of confusion, hurtling himself with surprising speed down the length of the corridor to the entrance of the control room, located before the center of the bay and a quarter of a kilometer from the entrance to the airlock. Trel and Marlena continued to shoot as rapidly as their guns could charge, maintaining the confusion in a deadly hail of bolts.

  Baress ducked inside the entrance to the control room, looking quickly about for the emergency release. Fortunately it was clearly marked, a large lever located in a recessed box beneath the main control panel. Holding the release trigger, he pulled back sharply on the lever. Explosive bolts blew within the frames of the two sets of braces which held the Methryn steady within the bay by the ends of her blunt wings, and gas pistons swung the braces clear. For a moment the immense carrier hung suspended in free-fall, steadied only by the nose bracket that held her shock bumper and a pair of long, slender docking tubes.

  Baress waited only long enough to see that the Methryn was clear, then hurried back to the door. The guards had regrouped and were doing their best to return fire from the cover of a side corridor, but Trel and Marlena, shooting from the cover provided by the crates, were reminding them to keep their distance, and their weak pistols could not have pierced Starwolf armor even from a much closer range. He covered the distance back to the airlock in a matter of seconds, sending his companions on ahead of him.

  “The ship is clear,” Valthyrra announced. “All of our people are back on board and accounted for. The other carriers report the same.”

  Velmeran nodded. “Get under way.”

  The Methryn began to back out of the bay, moving straight and steady until she was well clear of the edges of the bay. The pair of long, slender docking probes shattered as she first began to move back, their length splintered into segments that spun aimlessly in the freefall of the bay. Then she turned with surprising speed and agility for a ship so vast, whipping around, then accelerating directly away from the station, moving out of system on a course that would take her back toward Union space. First the Delvon, then the Valdayen fell in close beside her. Flying in tight formation, the three carriers continued to accelerate to light speed.

  “System control is calling,” Valthyrra reported. “President Delike wants to talk to you.”

  “I thought he would,” Velmeran commented. “He did impress me as a slow learner. Put him through.”

  “Commander Velmeran?” That voice sounded uncertain, surprised, and perhaps even a little hurt. Something had happened that he obviously did not understand.

  “You made this inevitable,” Velmeran told him plainly, not waiting for him to ask. He had no more patience for this simple man. “You were badly mistaken on at least one point. I am not obliged to obey your word. When you treat a Kelvessan like a machine, you have found the quickest way to arouse our complete and unforgiving anger.”

  “But you can’t do this,” Delike protested. “You will destroy our peace.”

  “There is no peace that does not include us,” Velmeran answered. “You and your friends have committed a very serious crime against my people. I have other important business to attend to just now, but then I will be coming back to have an accounting from you. Think on that.”

  “I order you to return!”

  “Barking asshole!” Velmeran muttered, then turned to Valthyrra. “Cut that. Let them think about it for a while.”

  “Perimeter defense cannons are moving to intercept us,” Valthyrra warned him. “Should we prepare to destroy them?”

  “Not if we can help it,” Velmeran said. “That is our property, and very expensive to replace. We will try to get into starflight before they come into range, but be ready all the same.”

  Whether he liked it or not, he was afraid that they would have to destroy the defense drones. They were built like small carriers that lacked stardrives, barely an eighth as large, carrying no crews and automated rather than self-aware like their larger cousins. And yet, despite their relatively small size, they carried a firepower that even a carrier had to respect. Being fairly stupid machines, they could not be bluffed.

  “Valthyrra, go ahead and send out a warning to all other carriers,” he added after a moment. “Inform them of the situation. Tell them to continue their patrols for now, but to button things up and be ready to come when I call. Tell them to anticipate about two weeks.”

  “Do you really anticipate a fight?” Consherra asked, watching from her station at the helm.

  “No, I think not,” he said. “Without the Starwolves, the Republic has only a fraction of the strength of the Union. Two carriers could go through the Republic Militia in a matter of days. Twenty or so carriers would be overkill, except that they do make a very powerful weapon of negotiation.”

  “Twenty or so carriers moving in formation would frighten anyone.”

  “Coming into range in forty seconds,” Valthyrra reported. He looked up at her. “Can you make it into starflight by then?”

  “If we give our run a couple of more G’s, then make the jump just a little premature.”

  Velmeran nodded. “Do it.”

  “Coming into visual range of the nearest drone,” Valthyrra reported.

  Valthyrra centered the main image of her viewscreen on the scan of the nearest defense drone, sitting almost directly in their path. As black as space itself, its triangular hull was in most ways like that of a carrier, short of nose and lacking a tail to house a stardrive. Velmeran stood for a moment, watching the drone.

  “Cut acceleration,” he said suddenly. “Cut across its path at the very outside limit of its range, shield to full, but do not return fire.”

  “Well... sure,” Valthyrra agreed reluctantly, obviously
confused. She relayed the order to a pair of very perplexed carriers. “Stand by.”

  The three carriers suddenly turned sharply, banking steeply to show their relatively unprotected bellies to the drone as they skimmed the outside range of its cannons. The automated warship opened fire, but at that distance even its efficient tracking sensors could not lock on target effectively and the volley of shots, already dissipating, went wide. The carriers began to accelerate again, moving out of range, and the drone moved to follow them, but it could never hope to match their speed before they were gone. A few moments later they disappeared into starflight.

  Valthyrra turned her camera pod to stare at Velmeran. “You wanted that thing to shoot at us.”

  He shrugged helplessly. “Who says that a Starwolf cannot learn to play politics? Laroose says that Delike and his friends are hanging on the very edge of public condemnation as it is, and they just shot first at poor Starwolves who were only running for their lives. Now we can go see what Lenna thinks will be the end of civilization as we know it.”

  - 6 -

  Keflyn turned and looked up into the cool, clear morning sky, watching the Thermopylae’s shuttle as it circled around to land. She had not yet seen the unpowered landing of the odd little spacecraft, and she definitely wanted to see this. The shuttle had already brought its wings all the way forward and was now rolling back its flaps. Riding the wind, it shook and dipped in a manner that Keflyn would have ordinarily considered to be bordering on a loss of control. Descending over the runway, it lifted its nose at the last moment and settled onto its rear wheels. Still rolling at a fairly high speed, it dropped its nose until the forward wheels touched down as well. Additional braking flaps in the wings and to either side of the tail snapped open to assist the regular brakes in slowing the ship. It slowed quickly but with obvious strain, turning off the runway and pulling to a stop only a few meters from where Derrighan and Keflyn watched.

  “That always amazes me,” she remarked.

  “That it flies?” the Feldenneh asked.

  “No, that anyone would fly it.”

  The nose of the shuttle split, moving open to either side, and the cargo ramp rolled out. They approached the ramp, careful of the outer shell of the ship, which was still radiating considerable heat acquired through its rather inadequate shields. She did know from experience that the ship would be too hot to touch for some time.

  “I am not entirely thrilled by this,” Keflyn commented in the Feldenneh language, to be very sure that Jon Addesin did not overhear her. “Are you absolutely certain that your cargo scout cannot be repaired?”

  “You have not seen what is left of it,” Derrighan answered, and his regret was genuine. If they had not needed Jon Addesin’s skyvan, they would not have needed Jon Addesin.

  They entered the shuttle’s long, narrow bay, which, Keflyn had always been interested to note, was decked in worn, scratched wood. The skyvan was lashed down in the center of the bay, held to the deck by a web of cargo straps. It reminded Keflyn somewhat of a very small version of a Starwolf transport, a long, rectangular hull with a blunt nose that contained the narrow cockpit, the rest of the craft given over to a cargo hold. It had no wings or control surfaces, relying entirely upon field drives, with pairs of retractable wheels in front and rear for land use.

  “I am somewhat relieved,” Keflyn commented as she began removing the cargo straps. “It seems to be in a much higher state of preservation than the rest of the ship.”

  “Considering what you were able to dismantle and carry with you, I suppose that you might have squeezed a ship of your own into two more bags,” Derrighan remarked.

  “So there you are,” Jon Addesin declared cheerfully as he descended the ladder from the cockpit. “I hope you’re ready. We can be on our way as soon as we can roll this baby out of the bay.”

  Keflyn paused to stare at him. He was up to something, excited, nervous and just a bit desperate, and acting very hard as if nothing was wrong. There was now a timetable that she did not understand. For some reason, he wanted this expedition done as soon as possible, although she was not telepathic enough with humans to determine more. She doubted that it was anything more than the launch of a major campaign to seduce her.

  “Is your handsome pet going along?” he asked next, which suggested that her guess was correct.

  “I have duties of my own to attend here,” Derrighan answered vaguely, his annoyance obvious at that less-than-subtle derogatory comment.

  The young Feldenneh had first meant to go along, but according to their plan, he was now to stay behind in the event of trouble. If Keflyn could not return, he had been taught to assemble and use her achronic transceiver to call in the Methryn. He was also the colony’s only qualified pilot and helm. If necessary, he could use Addesin’s own shuttle to take a boarding party up to commandeer the Thermopylae. This was by no means Keflyn’s idea, but her capitulation of the fears of both Derrighan and Kalmedhae. Whatever secret the Feldenneh were hiding on this icy world, they were unusually fearful over it.

  Addesin was perfectly true to his word on one point. The little transport was already loaded with all of the supplies they needed for their journey, so that Keflyn needed only to toss on board her personal belongings. One thing that she insisted upon taking was a good supply of food that she had selected. Kelvessan had to eat prodigiously to maintain their fierce metabolism, and they generally did not share human tastes.

  They were under way in a matter of minutes, traveling west and south over the lesser mountains to the plains and light forests beyond. The skyvan was a game little flyer but it was hardly capable of supersonic flights; at its best speed of about 300 kilometers per hour, they would still need the rest of the day to cross half a continent to reach their destination. Jon Addesin was as secretive as the Feldenneh about their destination, but for his own reasons. He was enjoying what he considered to be dramatic effect.

  They were passing over one area of scattered plains and light forests when Addesin suddenly turned the skyvan sharply to one side and began to climb steeply. Keflyn knew an evasive maneuver when she saw one.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Spark dragon,” he explained simply.

  “What?” Keflyn asked incredulously. Spark dragons were native to a world very far away. The large, flying mammals possessed a sonic blast that was as powerful as a disrupter at short range. Contrary to their names, they generated no electricity at all, although their sonic beam caused metal to throw bright sparks as it was molecularly disrupted. That made them dangerous even to the skyvan, or at least its vulnerable electronics.

  “Let me show you something especially interesting,” Addesin said, turning the skyvan toward an open area of the plains.

  He slowed the transport as they crossed the distance quickly, no more than a couple of kilometers, and Keflyn saw what he was steering toward. There was a herd of perhaps a couple of hundred large animals grazing their slow way through the deep grass. Her enhanced vision had already shown her that there were two similar species of animals gathered there. The largest group she recognized immediately as thark bison, also native of a very distant world and now domesticated throughout both Union and Republic space. The other, more massive beasts she did not recognize at all.

  “Thark bison and Terran bison,” he explained. “The two types apparently get along quite well and often travel together. In the farther north, you will also find them living alongside beasts the Feldenneh tell me are the modern descendants of Terran musk ox. It took them a while to identify those two, since they now exist only here. At night you will hear the howls of the Terran wolves and the barks of the Callian herrimeyens that hunt them.”

  “This world is a regular zoo,” Keflyn commented, watching the herd out of the skyvan’s side window as they moved past. In her own mind, this was proof enough that this had once been a major world. Domestic breeds were one thing, but no one imported something like a Kandian spark dragon or a herrimeyen exce
pt for exhibition. The sonic dragons were dangerous enough to have under any circumstances.

  “You haven’t seen anything yet,” Addesin told her. “This is definitely the strangest world I’ve ever seen, but I don’t think you’ll be disappointed.”

  Five hundred centuries, especially under a cruel climate, could be disastrous to any civilization. It certainly had not done this planet any favors. Keflyn had spent a long day poking through the ruins that Jon Addesin had brought her to see, even employing her tremendous strength to do a fair amount of excavation, and all that she could say for certain was that the ruins of a large city lay beneath those rolling, sparsely wooded hills. Only the downtown section had once had buildings large enough that their crumbled remains were recognizable as anything that had never been a part of nature.

  One thing that Keflyn had not discovered was evidence of battle. She had found stone, metal, and even glass that was shattered, crumbling, and corroded almost beyond recognition, but none of it burned or melted. Buildings had slowly collapsed in upon themselves, and some of the taller ones had even fallen, but she did not see any indication that they had been reduced by some tremendous explosion, or that a large blast such as a nuclear or conversion explosion had ever occurred anywhere in the area.

  The frustrating part was that there was no real hint of the world this had once been, no hint of the personal lives of the people who had built this city or even any clear indication of their race. There was nothing she had seen to even prove that they had been indisputably human. There had been no doorways or windows left intact to suggest their shape or height, no furnishing buried beneath collapsed walls or roofs. Metal, except for the splintered remains of heavy beams, had been reduced to dust, and wood had been gone for ages.

  Keflyn still felt the weight of incredible years that she had disturbed in the dust of these ruins. Her own race might not have even existed at the time when these buildings were new, before a recent river had cut this city nearly in two, and the Kelvessan were now a fairly old race in their own right. This place was so ancient, her investigation almost transcended archaeology into paleontology. She fancied that she would find dinosaur bones if she was to dig deeply enough.