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Authors: Thorarinn Gunnarsson

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“Perhaps
five times the length of a Starwolf carrier, but wider and much thicker,”
Chagin mused. “Probably several times the mass.”

“I
really don’t believe that it could be Starwolves,” Tarrel said. “Well, we know
a lot more than we did, but not enough.”

“What
do you think, Captain?” Pesca asked.

“We
obviously can’t handle this ourselves. Let’s get our information to a courier,
and then we’ll go find ourselves a Starwolf. ”

 

The
first problem in finding a Starwolf was knowing just where to look. The Union
knew only that there was at least one carrier to every sector, and that each
carrier ran a regular patrol through that sector. The actual course of that
patrol varied according to need, and the patrol changed regularly so that the
presence or absence of a carrier could not be anticipated. There had always
been some suspicion that the Starwolves employed drones or reconnaissance
flights of smaller ships, and that they kept surveillance devices in some of
the more important systems, but that had never been proven. All that could be
said for certain was that the Starwolves were well aware of just about
everything that went on in Union space, while their own habits remained very
obscure and their comings and goings were largely unpredictable.

Captain
Tarrel’s response to this problem was as clever and effective as circumstances
allowed. She made the best determination she could about just where in the
Sector Starwolves were most likely to be found. Carthaginian was taken into
that region at the battleship’s best speed, and they began issuing an achronic
message that Lt. Commander Pesca had assembled, the best he could manage for
the purpose of attracting Starwolf attention in a constructive as opposed to a
destructive manner. This matter required many hasty explanations on Tarrel’s
own part, since System and Fleet Commanders they encountered along the way were
not sympathetic to a Union battleship advertising for the chance to talk with
Starwolves. It had even gotten them fired upon in one rather remote and
provincial system, but the diplomatic pass issued by Sector Commander Lake himself
settled all other arguments. Especially since refusal to recognize that pass
could be considered an act of treason.

A
full week of searching brought them their first positive lead. Not only had a
Starwolf carrier passed through one independent system only three days earlier,
it had stopped for planet leave and had left only a few short hours before.
Independents were not as a rule willing to help the Union, but a single
battleship trying to attract the attention of Starwolves was such a novelty
that they were willing to help. As they obviously saw it, if a Union battleship
wanted to find trouble, who were they to interfere? Unfortunately, they did not
know where the Starwolves had gone next.

Tarrel
retreated with Chagin to the reference terminal on one corner of the bridge,
for a hasty consultation with the local star charts. Pesca invited himself to
join them, on the assumption that his wisdom and experience would be useful.

“The
obvious choice is this one,” Chagin said after studying the map for a moment.
‘/Two days out for us, but twelve light-years closer than the second nearest
system to this one. The third choice in about sixty light-years or so and not a
very obvious jump.”

“You
don’t seem to trust the obvious choice,” Tarrel pointed out.

Chagin
frowned. “Because it is obvious. Anyone looking for them would go there first.

“Do
they have any reason to think that anyone would be following them?” she asked.

“No,
certainly not.”

“And
is anyone who might be following them likely to cut in ahead of them and
prepare an ambush?”

“I
concede the point,” Chagin agreed. “But that’s exactly the problem. We’re
behind them now. They just had a leave, so they’re not likely to stop anywhere
for long any time soon. Can we overtake them now?”

“No,
of course not,” Tarrel agreed. “That’s why we have to anticipate their move
three jumps ahead and intercept them here.”

The
first officer looked at the place she indicated on the chart. “Yes, their steps
from this next one are fairly limited. Unless they suddenly turn well out of
their way, they will go here and then here.”

“While
we can cut directly across at top speed and intercept them in only five days.”

“Can
we do it?” he asked.

“We
have to. I can’t anticipate their move after that, not with three very likely
choices,” Tarrel said, then dropped her voice. “From this time on, I want one
of us on the bridge at all times. Those first seconds after encountering a
Starwolf carrier are ticklish ones. Under no circumstances can we allow
something to slip, or they’ll scorch us.”

“Anything
I can do, Captain?” Pesca asked.

“Just
stay out of my chair, Wally.”

That
encounter was not at all likely to happen until they reached the system in
question, unless the Starwolves did intercept their achronic message and pull
Carthaginian out of starflight. Captain Tarrel counted the days, and she found
herself half wishing that they would not find the carrier. If she did not find
the Starwolves after a certain amount of time, she intended to take her ship
back to Vinthra and turn the whole matter over to Commander Lake. He could wait
for Starwolves to come into system in their own good time and then issue them a
polite invitation to parlay.

They
dropped out of starflight farther into the system than anticipated, a common
variance—either too far in or out— after a long run at very high speed.
Carthaginian engaged her forward main drives and decelerated rapidly, settling
into a slow prowl as she began a continuous series of active scanner sweeps and
transmitted her message. Starwolves were notoriously spooky and Captain Tarrel
wanted to give them plenty of time to get used to the thought of being hailed
by a Union battleship. She had no way of knowing just how far the carrier could
be behind them, if at all.

“Minimum
local traffic,’* the surveillance officer reported before he was asked.
“Nothing unexpected.”

“The
System Commander is calling,” communications added. “They have heard our
transmission and request an explanation. No one sounds particularly upset about
it, however.”

“Invoke
our diplomatic pass,” Tarrel said. “Ask them to keep the local chatter and
scanner sweeps to a minimum. No need to be pompous as long as the locals are
willing to help. Our survivors might need to be rescued later on.”

Her
humor was appreciated by all but Lt. Commander Pesca, who was pale.

As
it happened, she had almost guessed wrong. The Starwolves were there before
her. The carrier appeared suddenly on scan almost directly behind them, passing
swiftly over the Carthaginian before matching speed barely twice her own great
length ahead of the battleship, clearly visible now on the main bridge
viewscreen. Then she rotated slowly, until she was facing them, a vast black
hull vaguely in the shape of an arrowhead, her short, slightly downs wept wings
protecting her main drives. Her color was an unreflective black, difficult
enough to see against space, even at close range. There were no windows to
betray her presence with their glow, although she did have her recognition
lights burning as a courtesy. That was actually encouraging.

If
there was trouble, Tarrel decided that the Starwolves could not have been more
obliging in stationing their immense carrier directly in front of her missile
racks. She doubted that those missiles could do the great ship any harm, but
they might provide enough distraction to get her own ship to the vague safety
of starflight.

“Message
coming in,” communications reported. “No visual.”

“I’ll
take it at my station,” Tarrel said.

“I
should take it,” Pesca offered in his excitement. “I am the linguist.”

“You’re
also an asshole, and neither attribute qualifies you for this,” she snapped,
then addressed the communication unit at her station. “This is Captain Tarrel
of the battleship Carthaginian. We wish to parlay on an urgent matter.”

“This
is Trendaessa Kerridayen,” the response came, a strong female voice. “Just what
seems to be the problem?”

Tarrel
was surprised at that lack of concern. It made her wonder if the Starwolves
found her battleship at all threatening. “Some large ship is moving through our
systems, destroying every ship and station it finds. The situation is very
alarming to us.”

“So?”

No
sympathy there. “So, we were wondering if the Starwolves were behind this, or
if we have an alien threat to deal with.” “No. It is not Starwolves.”

Tarrel
was grateful that this was not a visual link, since she could not stop herself
from making faces. “I have encountered this machine on three separate
occasions. My opinion is that this is an automated weapon designed to seek out
and destroy all power sources it encounters in space. It is also my opinion
that a single Starwolf carrier could not fight it.”

“Is
that a fact? You seem to expect us to do something about it.”

“This
monster is efficient and absolutely merciless,” she said. “We cannot fight it.
Damn it, we can’t even see it. Our military ships might be one thing, but this
beast eats commercial ships and stations, both our own and the independents,
without discrimination, and we can’t protect them. System Commander Lake has
empowered me to negotiate for your help, even to the point of declaring a truce
between us.”

“On
our terms?”

“On
just about any terms.”

“My
word, this thing does have you people rattled. I suspect that I would do best
to call Commander Daerran to the bridge. That way, you only have to explain all
of this once.”

“I
can wait,” Tarrel agreed.

She
muted the communication unit and leaned back in her seat, thinking that she had
not started out at all well. She decided now that the Starwolf ship’s odd
manner had been deliberate, intended to keep her from presenting a prepared
speech in the way she might have meant, possibly flustering her enough to say things
she did not intend. She would have to be more oh her guard.

“I
thought that Starwolves didn’t have last names,” Pesca commented.

“They
don’t,” she said. “That was the ship.”

“The
ship?” He was obviously greatly surprised. “Do you mean that their ships can
talk?”

“They
use sentient computer systems completely integrated into their carriers,”
Tarrel explained; “That way, their captains can circumvent the need to.ever
talk to knock-headed crew-members.”

At
least that first tense moment of contact had passed, and the Starwolves were
willing to talk rather than shoot first and ask no questions at all. She
considered that a professional accomplishment, since one of her primary goals
as the captain of a battleship was to avoid all fights that she had no way of
winning. One of the greatest problems about being a Union captain was always
being out-classed, not only in technology but also in raw size, and she was
pragmatic enough to realize that Goliath won most of the time. There had once
been a time when she had thought her seven hundred meters of battleship to be
quite large. “Captain Tarrel?”

She
opened the line. “This is Captain Janus Tarrel.”

“Yes,
this is Commander Daerran of the Kerridayen,” he responded. “My ship has played
back for me the record of your communication to this point, and I agree that
you have a most serious problem. Do you have reason to fear, that your
civilization, or at least large segments of your civilization might be in
danger of destruction if we do not intervene?”

“Yes,
I do,” Tarrel insisted. “Very few of our worlds, or the independent colonies
for that matter, are self-sufficient to any high degree. The destruction of
ships and commercial stations could bring interplanetary shipping to a halt on
a regional scale, causing technological collapse.”

“Actually,
the problem is rather more serious than I suspect your people are even aware,”
the Starwolf said. “Your interplanetary economy is a very fragile one at best.
That is why we have always been very selective in the type and amount of
shipping we capture or destroy.”

“That’s
very kind of you,” she remarked, trying unsuccessfully not to sound too
critical.

“Do
not mention it. If it had ever been our intention simply to destroy your
civilization, we could have done that in a matter of weeks, at any time.” There
was a short pause. “Captain, would you be willing to come aboard the Kerridayen
with any information you might have on this machine? I believe that Trendaessa
should have a good look at what you know and we will see what she can make of
it.”

Captain
Tarrel had to consider that very quickly. “Yes, I believe that I should come
aboard. What is the recommended method for that?”

“We
can receive your shuttle, or send one over to collect you,” the Starwolf said.
“The simplest thing in the long run would be to take your ship directly into
one of our holding bays, so that you can have access to your own ship at any
time you wish. But we can understand if you are not willing to trust us that
much.”

“Thank
you, Commander. Perhaps it would be easiest all the way around to have you take
Carthaginian into your bay. What should we do to prepare?”

“Just
close down your drives, shields and navigational systems, and your main
generators. The Kerridayen will position herself and bring your ship into the
holding bay with her handling arms. I will see you in the bay in a few
minutes.”

Tarrel
was not entirely pleased at allowing her ship to be taken aboard the Starwolf
carrier, but she did not fail to recognize what a gesture of trust this was on
both sides. The Union had laid too many traps and decoys for Starwolves in the
past, a rare few of which had actually been effective. Commander Daerran was
being rather gracious, not conceited, in his pretense that he and his great
ship had nothing to fear. Such indications were very encouraging. She could
see, however, that certain members of her crew were not so willing to trust.
Chagin, for one, obviously thought that going aboard the carrier was one thing,
but going aboard, ship and all, was quite another.

BOOK: Dreadnought
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