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Authors: Thorarinn Gunnarsson

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“Your judgment of my new ship will be your answer?” Trace asked.

“If I think that I could defeat Starwolves with it, I might just be
willing to try.”

Trace nodded. “That is reasonable. Of course, the burden of
responsibility will not be yours alone. I will be going along with you, at
least this first time out. The two of us together should be as smart and any
Starwolf Commander.”

“Including Velmeran?”

“I hope so. But it is not our business to track down Velmeran or any
other Starwolf. We are on our way to Tryalna to secure the planet against a
Starwolf counterattack while our forces reestablish firm control.”

“Your weapon has such power?” she asked.

He nodded. “You see, the Starwolves were designed for a specific
purpose, a very specific set of rules, and our mistake has always been in
playing according to their rules. This new ship is designed to bring the
advantage to our side, forcing them to play according to our rules. Their
high-speed attacks, their swift reflexes, and ability to endure crushing
stresses will no longer be of worth to them. We now have shields to counter
their big guns, guns of our own powerful enough to pierce their shields. Look.”

Maeken brushed back her pale brown hair and leaned toward the window to see
that they were overtaking a temporary station of some size. Temporary stations,
as the name implied, were meant for temporary use, able to move where they were
needed under their own power and be ready for immediate service. This one was
clearly meant for military use, for she could see at a glance that it was
heavily armored and sported cannons inside retractable turrets large enough to
swallow their shuttle. But it was also dull black, nearly invisible against the
stars in spite of its vast size. Starwolf color. Then she understood only too
well.

“Your ship?” she asked simply.

Trace nodded. “This is what we call a Fortress.”

“Impressive,” Maeken remarked, recovering from her surprise.
“Of course, I know that you are too smart to believe that simply building
a bigger battleship than they have will give you any special advantage. What
does this beast have that makes it so special?”

“Look at its design,” Trace said. “Begin with the engines.
Notice that it has no main drives, just clusters of stardrives.”

That much she could see. The engines were arranged in hexagonal clusters of
seven large drives, six on the outside with one in the center. The engine
clusters were themselves arranged in a flattened hexagon on the rear of the
drive housing, six outside with two, side by side, inside. They were large
engines, at least half the size of the immense crystal drives that the
Starwolves somehow synthesized for their carriers. And like the Starwolf ships,
they had armored plates that closed like doors to protect them. Each engine
also had a protective flaring that made shooting out a running drive very
difficult.

“Each engine is a self-contained unit,” Trace explained.
“Each is a module that contains its own generator, drive system, and
controls. The same is true for each major cannon, which consists of generator,
gun, and retractable focusing turret. These modules simply slip into sockets in
the hull, where they merge with the central computer system. It is possible to
change out every engine and cannon on this ship in only five hours’ time.

“The hull is composed of heavy armored plates, sloped to shed heavy
bolts by deflection. Each plate is covered by a thin sheet of quartzite which,
when infused with a defensive shield, becomes impenetrable to any bolt or
missile the Starwolves can throw against it. In that way the body of the ship
serves as an indestructible platform for its engines and cannons, which are the
only vulnerable points.”

“And, as such, you have designed those areas for rapid damage control
and repair,” Maeken observed.

Trace nodded approvingly. “Exactly. A convoy of tenders will follow
the Fortress – at a discreet distance. Engines and cannon modules are
transported end to end in special racks that have their own drive units.

“This ship has the firepower and shielding of a major planetary
defense system. Its cannons have nearly the power and range of those of a
Starwolf carrier. But we have more guns; we can inflict more damage, and endure
more damage, in the same amount of time. And, if a battle breaks out for a
short time, we can repair our damage, while they cannot.”

“I like it so far,” Maeken said. “But I see one flaw. What
about their conversion cannon? They might hesitate to use it on a planetary
target, but it would be the ideal weapon against this machine.”

“It would seem so, yes,” Trace agreed. “They can convert
enough mass to destroy a world in a single shot. But the Fortress can divert
the energy of all its generators into a single defensive shell of tremendous
power. Even damaged guns and engines can supply power, as long as their
generators are operative. Simulations have shown that it can turn even
that.”

“And this beast can move?” Maeken asked, staring out the window
as they rounded the nose of the Fortress. The main forward battery was located
here, as well as two more engine clusters to provide reverse thrust.

“Yes, it accelerates and handles as well as a Class A bulk freighter.
Not all that fast for a warship, but that can get it where it needs to
be.”

“But it cannot actively chase down a Starwolf carrier.” Maeken
stated the obvious. “Then what is to keep them from simply ignoring it?
If it was in my way, I would simply go around it.”

“I suppose they will, when they simply want to get past. But it cannot
simply be ignored if it is guarding an inner world we want protected, or in
orbit over a colony they want us to leave alone. Then they will have to deal
with it first.”

Maeken considered that for a moment, and shrugged. “You seem to have
thought of everything.”

“So, what do you think?” Trace asked. “Do you believe that
you could fight Starwolves with this?”

Maeken looked at him sharply. “Are you giving me any choice?”

“Of course,” he insisted. “If you think that this is not
right for you, that you cannot use it to best advantage, then you are
completely free to return to your former command and tell your Sector Commander
that Donalt Trace is as mad as rumor makes him out to be.”

Maeken leaned back in her seat and sighed heavily. “You are mad. And
so am I, for that matter. Crazy as Treyvestrian Knock Beetles, so I guess that
we were meant for each other. Who wants to grow old, anyway?”

 

“Well, they are safely gone,” Velmeran observed. The Velka,
flying again under her own power, was cruising into the system as if she had
made the entire run herself, rather than suspended in the belly of a Starwolf
carrier. The Methryn held back; she had business elsewhere.

“I was beginning to wish that you had blasted them when you had the
chance,” Valthyrra told him quietly, turning her camera; pod away from
the main viewscreen.

“Have they really caused that much trouble?” Velmeran asked.
“They never even came out of their ship.”

“All the same, that is the last that I want to see of
Traders,”‘ Valthyrra insisted. “I have never before had a
murder on my decks.”

“Attempted murder,” he corrected her. “A very near
miss.”

“Well, Kella Mersans is their Captain now, just as I expected she
would be, and she will keep them under firm control.”

“You expected?” Mayelna asked, looking up from her monitor for
the first time. “Was that a premonition?”

“No, just an intelligent guess,” he insisted. “I refuse to
believe in foretelling. The future is a variable. It can be predicted, in the
honest sense of the word, but I cannot believe that anyone can actually see
visions of what will come to pass.”

“Still, I wish that you would keep an open mind on this and any
subject,” Mayelna said. “That is the only way to find out what you
can do.”

“I cannot help wondering what we will do if these talents turn out to
be fairly widespread,” Valthyrra added. “I suppose that we could
carve up old drives to make crystal balls.”

“I hope that the two of you enjoy your fun at my expense,”
Velmeran said coldly, and turned to Valthyrra. “And yes, I have had
others come to me about developing their own talents. In fact, I already have
two promising students.”

Valthyrra’s lenses nearly popped out of her pod. “How did you
know what I was thinking?”

Velmeran looked at her in mock surprise. “I thought that we had
already established that.”

“Yes, but I have chips for brains... as the Commander phrases it. How
can you possibly read a mechanical mind?”

“How should I know? I am a simple telepath, not the Oracle of
Delphi.”

“Wait a minute!” Mayelna said, calling him back. “Who are
these promising students of yours?”

“Well, Consherra is becoming fairly good at her own card game. In
fact, she is nearly as good as Tregloran.”

“Tregloran?” Valthyrra asked. “Of course. He is in many
ways not unlike a lesser copy of yourself.”

“I cannot comment on that,” Velmeran said, obviously reluctant
to make the same comparison. “But he is a cunning little sneak; even I am
not aware of all of his schemes. And on his good days he can already outfly
Baress.”

Just then the Methryn threw herself into starflight. Valthyrra’s
camera pod glanced around cautiously, as if checking to see if she had made the
jump intact.

“Ah, it feels good to run at normal speed again,” she remarked,
and turned back to Velmeran. “I know that we should not tease you for
your special talents. We have already learned that we must trust you, so please
keep your ears open.”

“And what happens when I am wrong?” he asked.

“There is no need to worry about that,” she assured him.
“As you pointed out, you are not the Oracle of Delphi.”

Unfortunately, Velmeran did not see it that way. As he took the lift back to
his own cabin, he reflected that this was why he had kept his talents secret
for the past two years. Now, if he gave warning and nothing went wrong, he
would seem the fool and his reputation as a leader would suffer. And if
something happened when he failed to give warning, he would be held accountable
for his failure... or so it seemed to him.

He was surprised to find someone waiting for him in his cabin, and even more
surprised to discover that it was Baressa. He could not imagine why she would
seek him out now, unless something was wrong or she needed his help.

“Hello. Have you been waiting long?” he asked hesitantly as he
paused just within the door, still astonished at finding her sitting at ease in
his favorite chair.

“Not long,” Baressa replied, stretching her arms.
“Consherra told me to come up a few minutes ago.”

“Oh? Is there something that I can do for you?”

“Well, to put it bluntly, I want you to get me pregnant.”

That was certainly putting it bluntly! Velmeran’s first impulse was to
turn and run. He could not refuse flatly; by Starwolf custom, this was his
duty, not a self-indulging privilege. And he knew that he could not come up
with an excuse in time to save himself. But Baressa was prepared. Consherra had
taught her well what to expect, and now she closed for the kill.

“You do not seem very willing,” she remarked, unobtrusively
moving to place herself between him and the door. “Do you have some
objection to accepting me as a mate?”

“No, of course not,” Velmeran insisted, retreating even farther
into the room. “It just seems so... impersonal and contrived.”

“Impersonal? I am going to let you mate me until I turn up pregnant.
That seems very personal to me,” she declared. “Meran, you have
your chosen mate, and I have mine. And, to tell you the truth, I would prefer
that Baress consider this his child, since he does not know that we can never
have one of our own. Just remember that I have done this before. Treg and
Ferryn have no more idea of who their father is than you or I know of
ours.”

“Yes, I know that,” Velmeran admitted reluctantly. “But I
still find it very embarrassing.”

“Why? Because you know me?” Baressa asked.

“Yes. And because I do not want you to know that I really am not very
good at this.”

Baressa shook her head in weary resignation. “Velmeran, I am not
keeping score.”

 

Maeken Kea tried to settle herself in the Captain’s seat, which had
obviously been made to accommodate the Sector Commander’s long frame.
This chair was a throne of sorts, from which the Captain commanded his ship.
She knew only that she felt like a little girl in this immense seat, her legs
dangling and her small body almost lost between its massive arms.

Unfortunately, this chair was not her only obstacle in her command of this
ship. She was at a disadvantage from the start, coming unprepared on board a
ship that already had an experienced crew. So far she knew how to use the
intership com and the lift, and most of the buttons on her console. A second
major distraction to her effective command was that she was not certain just
how much authority she possessed. In theory he was along only as an observer;
that did not mean that he might later decide to start giving orders. At least
her name and reputation commanded enough respect; Maeken Kea had once fought
Starwolves and won. Not even Commander Trace could claim that. And on a ship
designed for the sole purpose of fighting Starwolves, that meant a lot.

Actually, the crew was a surprisingly small concern. There were just over a
hundred crewmembers in all, three teams of bridge officers, a medic, and a
small cooking staff. That was a very sparse population indeed in twenty-five
kilometers of ship, but it needed no more than that. The army of technicians
and mechanists needed to keep this hulk in repair followed with their parts and
equipment in the tenders.

“All primary and secondary functions are powered up and ready,”
a disembodied voice announced. The voice was female, not dry and emotionless
but unmistakably mechanical. “All systems are ready.”

BOOK: Battle of the Ring
3.85Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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