Battle of the Ring

Lenna stared for a moment, since this was the first old Starwolf she had met. Or at least the first she was aware of as being old, since there was nothing about elderly Starwolves to indicate the fact. As she looked closer, she could detect the tiniest creases about his eyes, such as she had also noticed on Mayelna. And both had a few black hairs among their brown; they apparently did not get gray.

“Did you teach Velmeran to fly?” she asked hesitantly.

“No, indeed,” Keth replied. “In fact, I flew in his pack for a short time before I retired. I could no longer take the high G’s.”

“I know how that is,” Lenna muttered.

“In fact, Velmeran’s first grand adventure was to rescue me when I was captured,” the older Kelvessa continued. “If Valthyrra and the Commander were here, you would see gathered at this table all the people that Union High Command hates most. The Methryn’s Magnificent Maniacs.”

“Which reminds me,” Lenna said turning to Velmeran. “Where have you been all day?”

Velmeran shrugged. “Making battle talk.”

“The whole time?”

“Yes, actually,” he said, frowning with consternation. “Life was easier when we were secure in the belief that the Union could not throw anything at us that we cannot handle. Don has found himself a really first-rate toy this time. I hardly know what to make of it.”

“That sounds ominous,” Tregloran remarked. “And we are going to fight it?”

“If it is at all possible, then we must. And if we do fight, this is going to be our most difficult one yet.”

“Great Stars, I would not miss this one for anything!” Lenna was practically shaking with excitement.

Velmeran regarded her blandly. “If you see this fight at all, it will be from a distance. You will be transferred to the Kalvyn with the rest of the nonessential personnel.”

“Nonessential?” she demanded indignantly.

“That seems like an adequate description for a stowaway.”

Lenna let the matter drop, seeing perhaps that there was no argument she could make that would keep her on this ship. Or perhaps she simply had ideas of her own.

9

After half an hour of cautious deceleration, the Methryn left starflight as gently as if her hull was porcelain and likely to break. Although she was still moving fast in terms of ordinary ships, her gentle approach was so unlike the sudden, darting movements of Starwolf carriers as to be remarkable. The system that was her destination lay well ahead; she had stopped short for a final meeting with the Kalvyn before going into battle. Valthyrra quickly cast about for her sister ship and altered her course in a long, lazy turn.

“Methryn?” a voice called out questioningly over com. “Valthyrra Methryn? Is that you sliding in?”

“Why, so it is,” she answered. “Who were you expecting, Schayressa?”

“Well, the last time I saw anything move that way, it was one of our own freighters with her hold so packed that she could barely move,” the Kalvyn answered. “Is there something wrong with you, Val? Have you hurt yourself?”

“You might describe my problem as a pain,” Valthyrra said. “Actually, I have a passenger.”

“A passenger?” Schayressa was incredulous. “A paying passenger? Great Spirit of space, Valthyrra, this is hardly the time for you to consider converting yourself to a luxury liner. Starwolf Express! A human passenger?”

“A stowaway, to tell the truth.”

“A stowaway? On a Starwolf carrier? I have never heard of such a thing. What did you keep it for?”

“To give to you,” Valthyrra snapped.

“Oh. I had to ask.”

“If you will hold your diodes for a moment, I am trying to get myself slowed down. Do you have any idea how hard it is to move our ancient bulks like we were hauling breakables?”

“Tell me about it,” Schayressa answered. “I lost a forward engine, and that means cutting the corresponding engine to maintain balance. Suddenly I have half the deceleration power I used to. I hate the thought of trying to put myself into airdock for repairs.”

“You could be towed in,” Valthyrra suggested.

“Towed? That would give me nervous fits. Have you ever been towed?”

Mayelna glanced up, then returned to her monitor, shaking her head slowly. “Aval den tras etrenon. They are all crazy.”

“What?” Velmeran asked, glancing up from where he had been watching the monitors over Consherra’s shoulder.

Mayelna regarded him blandly. “Someday, my boy, all this will be yours. One aging, know-it-all, gossiping starship.”

Valthyrra rotated her camera pod at the end of its boom, as if looking over her shoulder. “All the world is a stage, and everyone is a critic.”

Everyone looked up expectantly as Lenna Makayen entered the left wing of the bridge, staggering under the strain of G’s that would have left most humans unconscious. Traders had developed remarkable strength and resilience from thousands of years of such conditions; Iyan Makayen had always been embarrassed by the fact that his rangy half sister was considerably stronger than himself.

“The last time I saw her walk like that was near the end of that first night in Kanis,” Velmeran remarked. He hurried to her assistance, half carrying her up the steps. “You should have stayed in your room.”

“And miss all the fun?” Lenna demanded, and bowed her head respectfully to the Commander. “Val edesson, Mayelna.”

“Val treron,” Mayelna corrected her; Lenna still had her days and nights reversed. “That, I suppose is your way of informing me that I am in your seat?”

“Sure, I’ll not be asking you for your seat,” Lenna insisted, spreading her accent thickly. “If it’s all the same, I would be happy with Consherra’s seat.”

“Varth! Schon il vessa!” Valthyrra exclaimed softly, calling their attention to the main viewscreen. Just then she jerked herself to a sudden stop with a final blast of reverse thrust, disturbing no one except Lenna. She executed an interesting forward flip and would have broken her neck except that she landed on Consherra, who was coming up the steps at that moment, and they tumbled all the way down to the main bridge. For a moment they provided a more interesting diversion than anything that could have been happening outside, and everyone stared in speechless astonishment, then calmly applauded the acrobatics.

Lenna picked herself up, bruised and swearing, and turned to the main viewscreen. The Kalvyn sat motionless perhaps seven kilometers away, and turned almost directly toward them so that her forward hull was in plain view. Cannon blast had ripped round and oval craters intermixed with long, narrow tears in the thick armor.

“Are you finished staring yet?” Schayressa asked in mild irritation as the silence continued, unaware that most of the time had been taken up with Lenna’s amazing distraction.

“I suspect that I will look much the same before this is over,” Valthyrra replied.

“Perhaps, but you will have something to show for it. All I was able to do was run,” the other ship pointed out. “If you will open a bay, the Commander and I are on the way over.”

Valthyrra laughed softly. “So soon? You are anxious to see me blast that monster. We will be down to meet you.”

“Bring that passenger of yours as well, if you can trust it,” Schayressa added. “When dealing with humans and the deceptions of humans, we might profit from the opinion of a human.”

Valthyrra glanced at Lenna, who was checking herself for broken bones. The Trader girl was learning Tresdyland at an astonishing pace, but she could hardly follow a conversation after three days. Lenna would not