The Starwolves s-1

by Thorarinn Gunnarsson

  The freighter dropped out of starflight with an abruptness that almost twisted her apart, and the pack was upon her instantly. They saw her now for the first time; she was long and fat, her forward cabin extended forward of the holds, with generator and drives in a blocklike module behind. Now the fighters began their strafing runs at her bridge, as the freighter did her best to run sublight under her main drives.

  It did not take long. A final shot found her bridge and discharged. With the main computer gone, the freighter quietly shut down her drives and major systems, leaving only lighting and atmosphere as she drifted in silence. Velmeran came in alone and sat just twenty meters off the ruined bridge while the short-range scanners of his ship probed for any sign of life. There was none, nor were any major systems in operation.

  Now the capture ships moved in. Long and slender of body, almost all generator and drive systems, they approached the lifeless bulk of the freighter cautiously from behind. The pair moved in slowly, one to either side of the ship's ruined drive section. Three pairs of long, sturdy mechanical arms unfolded from their slender bellies to press their flat locking plates against the freighter's hull. Those locked down magnetically, and the capture ships pulled themselves close against the larger vessel's hull. Firing their main drives simultaneously, they slowly brought the drifting hulk around on a new course, back to where the Methryn waited patiently.

  Velmeran thought that he had reason to be pleased, for his pack had flown well. They had run down and captured a fairly large freighter, nearly as big as they came, her damage limited to her star drive and bridge. He knew that her holds were full by the way she had slid through her turns; freighters were generally built to the specifications of an empty ship and running with cargo, as they were meant, actually strained their capacities. This run had been a victory for him as much as it had for his students. He was beginning to overcome self-doubt and indecision, and to look forward with hope to greater successes. Victory had a very sweet taste, and it was very addictive.

  At that moment disaster was snatched from the jaws of victory.

  Velmeran was instantly aware of a vague presence far behind him, at the very limit of his senses. It was remote and indistinct, like a very low, distant throbbing beneath the high voices of the ships about him. But, as each second passed, it grew louder and more certain. All too soon he had absolutely no doubt.

  "I feel ships behind us!" he announced over com. "Cut loose that freighter and get out fast. This may be a trap."

  The two capture ships cut acceleration and released their hold, leaving the freighter to drift as they shot away. The packs did not wait; Velmeran brought his around in a tight circle, turning back to meet this new threat, and Baressa's pack followed closely. The Starwolves were fearful of traps, for too often freighters exploded under attack or soon after capture. Sometimes their cargoes were volatile, but more often the freighters themselves were decoys and loaded with explosives. Such a trap had destroyed most of Velmeran's first pack, leaving only himself, Keth and Strata.

  Valthyrra Methryn and her crew were just as quick to react. The Methryn, waiting just outside the system, fired her main drives and began to move in at her best sublight speed. Every fighter, transport and capture ship was made ready. Damage-control crews stood by while the bridge crew waited at their stations, ready to take control of their parts of the giant ship should Valthyrra have to shift her attention elsewhere.

  "Velmeran, What is it?" Mayelna dethanded over com. She had to take over the supervision of the packs, since Valthyrra was preoccupied with preparing herself for battle.

  "Ships," he answered simply.

  She looked up as Valthyrra's camera pod moved toward her. "I can just make them out, sixty-five units from our present location and approaching rapidly. I count two carriers and three battleships, with about twenty escorts ranging from stingships to destroyers."

  "And that freighter?" Mayelna asked.

  "It never exploded," the ship explained. "No trap. My guess is that the attack run proceeded too far into system and was observed. The local comthander is either trying to scare us away, or else he believes in his good luck."

  "We do not scare," Mayelna said coldly.

  "No, not from this," the ship agreed. "I already have a pack in each bay. They will go as soon as they have pilots."

  Mayelna bent over the com controls in the arm of her chair. "Help is coming. Can you and Baressa distract them for about five minutes?"

  "They are already on their way," Valthyrra reported, amused.

  "We are closing to attack," Velmeran answered. "Tell Valthyrra to keep herself clear."

  Indeed he had long since led both packs into low starflight speeds, rushing into the depths of the system ahead to intercept the approaching ships as far from the Methryn as they could. The small fleet was coming toward them at about the same speed; for Union pilots, taking a ship into starflight within the confines of a planetary system was an act of either desperation or daring. Baressa had never said a word, so Velmeran assumed that she was following his lead. He was surprised by that; Baressa was not easily impressed.

  Velmeran had somewhat impressed himself with his decisiveness, daring to lead a pack of students against a fleet. But there was really no choice as he saw it. He had two clear duties when the Methryn came under attack: to protect his carrier against her enemies, in spite of the fact that Valthyrra could take care of herself, and to protect the reputation of the Starwolves. Fear was the most effective weapon his kind possessed; the Union lived in fear of the black carriers and would more often run than fight. But that reputation had to be carefully maintained. The Starwolves had to answer every challenge and win every battle, pay back every hurt twice over, and they could never afford the luxury of a judicious retreat.

  The two groups closed quickly, for starflight reduced planetary distances to small jumps. The packs split to circle around to either side and strike from opposite directions. The Unioners had to drop sublight to fight. They could not defend themselves effectively in starflight, and they certainly could not attack. They would drop to low sublight speeds, increasing their enemy's advantage but at least allowing their own fighters to attack and give their cannons a chance to track the quick wolf ships.

  Without warning the fleet went sublight, braking hard, and the packs cut in sharply to strike from either side. The two carriers had already opened their immense bays and were expelling fighters at a furious pace. The three battleships and eight destroyers moved to the outside, prepared to distract their attackers with their own cannons. Stingships made ready their own attacks, while tenders and escorts could do little else but try to look small.

  Their skill and innate sense of timing was such that the two packs struck the fleet from opposite sides at exactly the same moment. Now their advantage became most apparent. They could easily withstand the stresses of quick turns and accelerations hundreds of times as great as ordinary humans could endure, so that they could dodge in and out among the larger ships faster than the defenders, or even their automatic systems, could track.

  Velmeran went first for the stingships, the greatest threat, in his opinion, to his students. These powerful little ships were all engine, faster even than fighters and possessing a pair of cannons with the range and power of the main battery of a destroyer. Most of his pilots were impressed with the larger targets, and were busy ripping up the big cannons on the battleships and destroyers. Baressa had sent her more experienced pilots after the fighters, even shooting into the bays to prevent the rest from launching. Keth and Treg had gone after the smaller gunships.

  Velmeran had cut in at the rear of the fleet and was making his way up its scattered length, seeking out and removing the more subtle threats. Wolf ships were moving in and out too fast for him to identify most by the pitch of their engines, although he did see that Tregloran had disabled a destroyer and was following it to its end. Velmeran would have liked to have seen what the younger pilot did with his target, but in the next i
nstant he had to jump to avoid flying headlong into the forward battery of a battleship. He barely had time to fire twice into her bridge before he shot past, well aware that bolts from her cannons were passing him within meters. That served as a quick lesson in failing to pay attention; he could end up the first casualty for worrying about his students.

  By the time that he had turned back, he saw that he had done better with the battleship than he anticipated. While his bolts had missed her main computers, they had still destroyed the bridge. The immense ship was flying blind, her engines flaring and completely out of control. Her automatic systems continued to fight, but slower than normal, and she was firing at anything that moved. Tenders that had been moving to assist her were forced to retreat quickly when her cannons destroyed two of them.

  Velmeran fell in with two others who were going after her drives. They took out four of her six main drives and were setting up for another run only to shear away suddenly. The ship's damaged computers had kept her generators running at full, still trying to feed engines that were no longer in operation. Major circuits overloaded and burned out and a series of explosions began to rip apart the aft of the giant warship. A moment later her generators exploded with force enough to vaporize the entire ship, as well as the tenders and escorts still trying to get clear. Only the wolf ships had been quick enough to escape.

  The remainder of the fleet was quick to react. All of the larger ships suddenly paused, their engines stilled, as they pivoted thirty-five degrees from their previous course. Then they refired their engines and shot off in this new direction. That move caught more than half of the Starwolves by surprise and they suddenly found themselves left behind, separated from the fleet but surrounded by Union fighters and stingships.

  But it came too late. Only the stingships had the power and speed to be effective, but just two of those ships remained. The Union fighters were too slow and too lightly shielded, their guns too weak. The Starwolves turned to pursue the fleeing warships, destroying everything in their path. The fighters were left behind instantly but the stingships accelerated quickly, hoping to keep the wolf ships in range long enough for a few shots. But two of the black fighters had held back, and now fell in behind the stingships. The hunters became the hunted, and the chase did not last long.

  Free of its own fighters, the Union fleet now ran at several times its former speed, its ships spacing out to twist and evade. Time was beginning to work to the Starwolves' advantage. All of the Union ships had suffered some damage, their stingships were gone, and their fighters were left behind. But the Starwolves' numbers were still intact, their ships were undamaged, and their pilots were still fairly fresh. Moreover, they were expecting the support of eight more packs at any moment.

  One of the two remaining battleships suddenly faltered and began to fall behind, having lost its main computer control. Velmeran held back to watch, for the ship was not heavily damaged and could have been restarted. But her crew had had enough. Launches and transports began to leave her after a long moment, and even a few escape modules popped out of their tiny bays. That left a nearly intact battleship to drift, which the Starwolves could recover at their convenience.

  Velmeran accelerated quickly after the remainder of the fleet, with Keth and Steena close behind him. Keth had been hard pressed to keep up this pace. But he had disabled that last battleship, if more by chance than actual skill. Now he felt young and quick again, encouraged by his success. He moved rapidly through the fleet, firing into the tail of a destroyer as he bore down on the remaining battleship. He was coming up close behind one of the carriers, but he ignored her as he sighted on his real target. The destroyer he had just strafed exploded and he glanced back, wondering if he had been responsible for that.

  He turned back to his intended prey, only to see that the carrier had turned abruptly across his path. He was streaking down the length of her hull on a course that would cause him to strike her just forward of her bays, in the crew section just behind the bridge. Already it was too late to turn away. Just ahead he saw a large airlock with double doors nearly as wide as his own ship. This was one of the main crew ports; a wide corridor would run right through the width of the ship, emerging on an identical lock on the opposite side. If he kept up his speed, and his shields held, he could poke a hole right through this carrier.

  Keth threw full power to his engines and dove straight toward those double doors. His fighter struck with a jarring impact, crashing through both outer and inner lock doors. For an instant longer the shields continued to hold, forcing a path for the fighter by crushing back the walls and ceiling of the corridor. But the stress was too great, and the shields suddenly failed explosively. The wings and fins of the fighter were ripped off in that same instant, but its main body was thrown forward to slide down the length of the corridor. The walls continued to press on it, breaking its momentum, grinding slowly to a stop that left it firmly wedged in the passage.

  Keth released his tight grip on the controls and sat back, breathing heavily. He would have made it if his engines had not failed, for the doors of the second airlock were only five meters from the nose of his ship. If he could restart his generator, he could shoot out those doors and use his engines to squeeze on through. He removed his helmet and the upper straps of his seat so that he could bend over the screen and small keyboard on his on-board computer, ordering a systems check.

  The screen began with a four-way schematic of the fighter, then began to subtract from those sketches to allow for missing parts. The computer considered the extent of the damage and announced its verdict: failure: all main systems. But he had expected that, and began to work his way past all the safeties and lock-outs and tried to restart the generator. There was no response except that the computer investigated the damage again, thinking about it a long time before it reached a conclusion: generator inoperative: failure all main systems. To prove its point, it quickly sketched out the schematic for the generator and main power channels. Keth knew enough about the mechanics to see that this ship was better off scrap.

  That left him one last chance. He quickly locked down his helmet and powered up his suit, then released the canopy. He could still abandon his ship, jump overboard out of the lock just ahead, and call for someone to pick him up. But the canopy rose only a short distance before it jammed against the ceiling overhead. Ordinarily he would have been able to rip that canopy from its hinges, but not while he was trapped within the confined cockpit. His genetically bred strength was defeated by poor leverage.

  "Meran, can you hear me?" he asked over com, rather apologetically. "I seem to be in considerable trouble."

  Velmeran heard, and instantly knew that something was wrong. He moved free of the battle to pace the fleet a short distance out. "I hear you, Keth. What is it?"

  "I seem to be stuck inside one of the carriers," he explained. "She turned in front of me. I tried to punch a hole through a main corridor. But I did not quite make it, and now my generator is wrecked. I was hoping that you would be able to disable this ship."

  "We will do what we can," Velmeran assured him. "Which ship?"

  "I am in the lead carrier."

  "I hear you. Baressa?"

  "I am on it," Baressa responded immediately.

  "Right. Valthyrra, where are those other packs?"

  "I cannot get enough pilots to their ships to launch a pack from either bay," Valthyrra responded. "The first two should be leaving in the next two minutes. Can you hold out another five or so?"

  "No! You had better bring yourself in, so that you can deliver them to the scene. And charge your cannons."

  "Coming!" Valthyrra replied, and she did not sound at all unhappy.

  By that time Velmeran, Baressa and a third ship were moving up on the lead carrier, intent upon clipping all six of her main drive engines. An instant later it seemed that every Union ship in the fleet was firing at them, so that they were forced to break off their attack and move away. That was when Velmeran realized
just how much trouble they were in. The Union fleet had captured a live Starwolf. Whatever else they had come to do was quickly forgotten; their only goal now was to protect that carrier long enough for her to escape.

  And they were quick to seize their chance. The lead carrier suddenly broke free of the fleet, so abruptly that she left her escorts and tenders behind. She reversed course almost a full half-turn and began to accelerate rapidly back into the system, building swiftly to light speed. Three wolf fighters broke from the fleet to chase her, but they were only just beginning to close when she went into starflight.

  "She just jumped!" Velmeran warned. "Valthyrra, put a drone on that ship."

  "On it!" Valthyrra promised. One of her smaller forward bays began to open. A small machine shot through the bay doors as soon as they opened enough to allow it to pass. The drone paused a moment as it oriented on its target, then disappeared into starflight with a blinding flash of its tiny engine.

  The drone was a fail-safe, for Velmeran did not intend for that carrier to escape. The giant ship continued to accelerate into higher starflight speeds, faster than he had thought Union ships could run. But she was mostly bays, and those were empty. Nor was she retreating back to the main base, a move that would not have kept her safe. She was running out of system.

  "Velmeran, she is casting something loose!" Baressa warned.

  She had been in a position to see the small bay door swing out. The three fighters scattered, and a moment later a launch was ejected from its small bay. Without acceleration dampers to drain off the energy of its tremendous speed, the little ship was vaporized almost the instant it left the carrier, and it radiated the energy of its acceleration in a tremendous destructive flash. But the trick had failed, for the three fighters were back on the warship's tail immediately.