Battle of the Ring (35 page)

“In terror. I could block the pain.”

The Methryn remained with the Kalvyn over Tryalna for another day and a half
until the Karvand arrived and the freighter Lesdryn had slipped unobserved into
the fringes of the system. The Starwolves could not keep a ship in this system
for very long, since the twenty remaining carriers had to adjust their patrols
to allow for the two damaged vessels. The Lesdryn would be back in a couple of
weeks, her caverous holds filled with rebuilt destroyers and battleships to
replace the system fleet.

Daelyn was understandably shocked and saddened to hear that her mother was
dead, although the rare opportunity to visit with both her father and brother
distracted her from her grief and she went away with more good than bitter
memories. Both she and Commander Schayranna thoroughly approved of the new
Commander, but the strange girl with two arms who sat familiarizing herself
with the helm controls on the auxiliary bridge took a little getting used to.

Lenna was at the controls when the Methryn, the Kalvyn, and the Lesdryn left
orbit, an occurrence that took more than just a little getting used to for the ship,
the regular helm, and the new Commander. The auxiliary bridge had no
commander’s console, which gave Velmeran the excuse to loiter about and
watch her every move. Since it was Consherra’s responsibility to teach
her young assistant, she also made it her business to watch over the girl. And
since Valthyrra’s camera pod was mounted overhead, she had the best view
of all. Besides that, she had the reassurance of having an override on every
control.

Once she got the Methryn out of orbit and accelerating to starflight along
the proper flight path, however, they began to relax. Lenna had grown up with
the desire to be the helm on a starship, and now she had her hands on a bigger,
faster ship than any Trader had ever hoped for.

This scene was repeated several days later as the three Starwolf ships
decelerated in their approach on the planet Alkayja. They moved out of
starflight together, the Methryn and the Kalvyn flying side by side with barely
their own length between them while the freighter Lesdryn followed at about
three times that distance.

Everyone on the bridge watched the viewscreen expectantly for their first
glimpse of Alkayja and its immense orbital base. For many, like Velmeran and
Consherra, this was the first time that the Methryn had been in port in their
lifetimes. Valthyrra’s earliest memories were of this place. Her first
run under her own power had been in this space, executing experimental
trajectories around the four smaller and three larger planets. And yet even she
had spent less than a score of years out of her eighteen centuries here, most
of that time in refitting. Carriers never returned home except at need.

“Alkayja control, this is Methryn accompanied by Kalvyn and
Lesdryn,” Lenna hailed at Valthyrra’s direction. “We are
closing at twenty-two point eight million kilometers and anticipate Alkayja
orbit in just over four minutes.”

“Affirmative, Methryn,” the reply came immediately. “We
have your course projections and clear you to proceed as you are. Do you
require assistance?”

“Negative, control. All systems are secure. We anticipate normal
approach and docking.”

“We understand, Methryn. Table for three, right this way please. You
are to take refitting bay one. The Kalvyn is directed to refitting bay two. The
Lesdryn is to take berth five. Do you comply?”

All three ships responded, and Lenna continued the approach. She would not
attempt to slip the Methryn into airdock; even Consherra would have hesitated
to try that, although she could have. At least having Lenna to watch the helm
freed Consherra to attend her own duties as second in command; Veimeran
was beginning to appreciate just how much she did to keep this ship running.
She spent an average of twenty hours a day to her work, spending at least half
that time visiting various sections of the ship. Not only did she keep track of
the physical condition of the ship itself, she also knew every member of the
ship by name and kept track of their affairs.

Braking hard, the Methryn was upon Alkayja within minutes, dominating the
left half of the viewscreen. Lenna brought the ship completely around the
sunlit side of the planet, holding the tight curve by force at several times
the required velocity of that low orbit. As they neared darkness, the station
appeared over the black horizon.

Alkayja station was not the largest that Velmeran had seen, smaller in fact
than the Rane Military Complex above Varmkarn, the difference being that
this was a compact structure. The main body, twenty-five kilometers across,
consisted of a thick ring studded by the large rectangular modules that were
the carrier bays. Twenty-two were docking bays, their wide, low openings
enclosed only by containment fields, while the two construction bays and four
refitting bays had actual doors. Above this was a thinner ring with bays for
ordinary freighters and regular military forces. The thick inner hub of the
station, completely filling the rings, contained the city itself and an
industrial complex. The hub tapered quickly to blunt ends above and below,
housing generators and clusters of large engines. Home Base was a mobile
station, although it had not left orbit after arriving from Terra fifty
thousand years before.

Valthyrra resumed direct control as the three ships closed on the station,
each one moving toward its individual bay. She edged her shock bumper into the
bracket designed to receive it, the meters-thick shock pistons attached to the
frame of the station and those within her nose catching her tremendous mass and
bringing it to a gentle stop. The pistons relaxed, pushing her into the parked
position as two additional sets of brackets moved in from either side to lock
into catches within the hull grooves at the tips of her blunt wings. Docking
tubes telescoped out from the forward wall to fasten against her major
airlocks.

With docking complete, the Methryn began the process of shutting herself
down for the first time in a hundred years. Some basic systems had to remain in
operation, such as internal gravity and atmosphere, as well as all of
Valthyrra’s essential computer systems. But she did shut down her
generators to shift over to station power. This was the only painful part of
the process, although strictly from a moral and philosophical point of view.

“All secure,” Valthyrra reported.

“That’s it?” Lenna asked, still at her station. “So
what do you do now?”

“Do?” the ship asked. “You leave. You do whatever you can
find to keep yourself amused and out of trouble.”

“No, I mean, what do we do?” the girl protested. “Where do
we go?”

She looked at Velmeran, but he only shrugged. “I have no idea.”

“Aval den tras etrenon!”
Valthyrra exclaimed. “You
still live here, in your own cabins. The pilots are still answerable to their
pack leaders – that includes you, two arms – and they are expected
to practice. And the other crewmembers have their regular duties to perform
This is not indefinite port leave.”

That had not been directed solely at Lenna, and the young Starwolves who had
not been through this before were relieved to hear it. They had somehow been
under the collective impression that repairs and refitting meant that a carrier
and her crew of Starwolves became a damaged machine and a couple of thousand
unemployed Kelvessan.

“However, you have all earned a vacation,” Valthyrra continued.
“This is your first port leave, so you should have one of your new
friends show you how to sell your trade goods.”

“Trade goods?” Lenna asked, confused.

“Yes. We support ourselves with acts of piracy, and our crewmembers
are paid with various items taken from the capture cargo. Did Dyenlayk not pay
you for your good work on the Challenger?”

“Pay me?” Lenna asked, mystified. Then realization hit like an
exploding star. “Oh, so that was why he gave me a silver tea
service!”

Valthyrra stared. “What did you think you were supposed to do with
it?”

“Hell, I was going to give a party!”

Valthyrra’s camera pod shot up in surprise, then spun around in a
complete circle and beat itself three times against the ceiling. Once that was
out of her system, she brought it back to where Velmeran was standing.
“Fleet Commander Laroose is on his way to the bridge.”

“Fleet Commander?” Velmeran asked in obvious confusion.

“Yes, the Fleet Commander,” the ship insisted. “Your
superior. The guy who gives you your orders.”

“My orders?” he asked, even more confused. “No one gives
me orders.”

“I doubt that he would dare to. Nonetheless, he does have the
theoretical authority.”

Velmeran had little time to speculate on the type of person who would
undertake the task of directing the entire Wolf Fleet. He did have some idea of
what he expected of such a person, something very different from the tall,
broad-chested human of middle years who entered the bridge half a minute later.
His initial surprise was seasoned with mild indignation that the Republic would
keep a human in the position of leadership of its Starwolves like a gesture of
ownership, coupled with his inner belief that a human was not morally or
intellectually capable of such a task.

Commander Laroose obviously knew his way around a carrier’s bridge.
But he approached the middle bridge almost reverently, like an admirer in the
presence of an idol for the first time.

“Commander Velmeran?” he asked tentatively.

“Yes?”

“I cannot tell you how glad I am to meet you,” he said
enthusiastically, shaking the Starwolf’s hand vigorously. He noticed but
politely ignored the missing hand, indicating that he had read the report on
the incident. “You’ve done some amazing things, and you’ll
find that quite a reputation has preceded you. In fact, you’re the first
true folk hero of the Kelvessan. And something of a hero of my own, as you
might guess. Every Kelvessa I know has taken up playing cards with the faces
down.”

Velmeran smiled at the comic image that Laroose drew for him with such
obvious enthusiasm. These tactics, even if they were not intended as such, were
not without their results. Velmeran was not flattered, since his ego did not
operate in that manner. But he was more than gullible enough to be taken in by
such charm.

“Before we begin work on the Methryn, there is an important matter
that I must discuss with you and your ship,” Laroose continued, now
serious. “There have been a lot of changes here at Alkayja Base these
last two years. Your own exploits have forced us to realize that we have to do
more to serve our own ships. I now have four refitting docks in full operation;
we can now overhaul a carrier in two months. We can even have the Methryn
repaired and back out in only three. And it is important for you to be back out
as soon as possible.”

“Of course,” Valthyrra answered pointedly before Velmeran could
reply.

“But I would like to convince you to stay six months. You see, we have
a new generation of bright Kelvessan scientists. Mutant stock, I daresay.
Anyway, since we started work on the new Delvon, they put their minds to
the task and came up with improvements for our engines. Maximum power output is
up by over one-third. We have dampening fields that work a full fifty percent
better than before. And we have successfully tested an operational jump
generator.”

“What?” Valthyrra demanded breathlessly, in spite of her
inability to breathe. “The Delvon is going to be a real
terror.”

“Yes, well, we have all these new engines and units ready to install
two decades before we can put them in,” Laroose explained. “So, when
I heard that you were coming in, I thought that we might want to strip out your
old engines and give you all these toys, where they will do the most good. In
fact, we mean to refit all the carriers and freighters as fast as we can bring
them in. What do you say?”

“I do not consider that my decision to make,” Velmeran replied,
and looked up at the dazed lenses of the camera pod. “Val, do you
agree?”

“Do I agree?” she asked incredulously. “I beg!”

Commander Laroose’s assertion that Velmeran was becoming quite a hero
to his people was no exaggeration; if anything, it was an understatement.
Kelvessan had begun to arrive even before the Methryn was docked, watching the
procedure through the wide bank of windows just above the docking bracket. The
crowd continued to grow as hours passed, hundreds and then thousands. Velmeran
was appalled, but finally felt obliged to put in an appearance. Kelvessan were
very polite and quiet admirers, but they were also very blunt with their
affections. Since the crowd was constantly changing, he was required to make
these appearances every four hours for the next three days. Someone observed
this routine and actually posted a schedule.

Actually, the term
hero
was not a completely accurate definition of
what Velmeran represented to the Kelvessan. He was a leader, a symbol of
Kelvessan presence and unity, a representative for a race that was emerging
into its full maturity and looking at itself with a new sense of awareness. He
came to accept this role because he believed in that and because, in a curious
way, it comforted him. He had come away from this last battle feeling very much
like someone whose gifts lay only in destruction. He was pleased to discover
that, in the judgment of his own people, he was a builder of dreams and worlds.

Curiously, the one who was most unhappy was Lenna Makayen. She was
caught between three races, not entirely human, not really a Trader and
certainly not a Kelvessa. She had been quietly depressed since learning of
Consherra’s pregnancy. That reminded her only too sharply, for the first
time in her life, that she was a sterile hybrid of two races and alien to both.
She considered herself alone, a freak of nature. And yet her problem resolved
itself very quickly; there was a perfect companion even for her.