bewilderment.
“Valthyrra, can you rush in to distract that ship before it moves into range?” Mayelna asked.
“Too late,” Schayressa said. “The Challenger carries an arsenal of nuclear weapons on missiles with crystal engines.”
Even as she spoke, the Challenger launched a single missile. Driven by a small but powerful engine, it accelerated rapidly for several seconds, then shut down and flipped itself over to prepare for detonation.
“Fifteen seconds to target,” Valthyrra reported. “The only way we could have stopped it would have been to have had fighters waiting in orbit.”
“What target?” Mayelna demanded.
No one answered. The missile decelerated for several seconds, then flipped itself back over and began to orient on its designated target. It hurtled into the atmosphere at impossible speeds, protected by an atmospheric shield that parted a narrow channel of fiery air just ahead of its nose, serving to slow it further.
“Detonation,” Valthyrra announced. “The target was the spaceport of a major industrial center. Since that was a relatively small warhead, the damage was restricted largely to the port itself… which was apparently evacuated at the time. Actual damage was minimal, and I suspect that there was very little loss of life.”
“But why?” Lenna demanded, pale and shaken.
“That seems obvious enough,” Velmeran answered bitterly. “Donalt Trace knows that I am here, and he will do whatever it takes to make me fight him. He will do it again and again until I do. He knows that I must.”
“There does not seem to be any choice,” Valthyrra agreed. “Any thoughts on the subject?”
Velmeran did indeed look very thoughtful. “The Fortress’s shields are dependent upon the tremendous energy generated by its power network. And the more generators we take off the grid, the weaker its combined power for shielding becomes. In theory, we can eventually weaken it to the point that it becomes vulnerable to our attack. Is that not so?”
“Indeed, it seems the only option we have,” Valthyrra replied. “If we do weaken it to such a point, which I calculate to be nine hundred and fifty-two guns remaining of its initial two thousand two hundred, then a single shot of my conversion cannon will short out its defensive shield.”
“That means that you have to shoot out twelve hundred and forty-eight,” Consherra observed. “Why so many?”
“Because most of the power for the shields comes from the larger generators in the engines and the ship itself, which are invulnerable to attack. My calculations are based on the assumption that no engines are shot out. Needless to say, you get more points for shooting out an engine.”
“And when you do shoot out a gun or an engine, you want it to stay that way,” Velmeran continued. “We have to take out that support convoy so that the Fortress cannot repair itself. And we have to get rid of those stingships so that we will be free to concentrate on the Fortress.”
“Needless to say, you can have our packs to assist you,” Tryn said. “And the bay crew and support personnel that goes with them. Is there anything else the Kalvyn can do?”
“Yes, you can set yourselves up near Tryalna to prevent retaliation from the invasion force and to intercept anything else that Donalt Trace might throw at it. He might not be so careful about his next target.”
“That leaves the Fortress itself,” Schayressa pointed out.
“I have one thought on that,” he said. “We still have to take it apart a piece at a time, but I know something that might make that easier. All we have to do is to get it to follow the Methryn into the debris ring of the fourth planet.”
There was a moment of silence as everyone tried to figure out what he could have in mind with such a plan. The ring of the fourth planet was well known, not for its beauty but as a curiosity. Most rings were thin disks of very small particles. But this planet possessed instead a thick band of heavy debris, large pieces of solid rock ranging in size from boulders to pieces as massive as small moons. A powerful static charge caused the pieces of rock to repel each other, maintaining a thickness of several hundred kilometers. Starwolf fighters often negotiated the ring as a game, but they were the only regular visitors.
“I am assuming that both our carriers and the Challenger have debris shields capable of clearing a path through the ring?” Velmeran asked.
“Yes, of course,” Valthyrra answered. “Do you think…”
Velmeran shrugged. “For all its hundreds of cannons, the Fortress would be very limited in range and accuracy trying to shoot through that mess. It would be slowed down to a crawl, and its scanners would be hopelessly confused by the static.”
“And the same would be true for me as well,” Valthyrra pointed out.
“No doubt. But our fighters can negotiate the ring with no problem and they can use the debris to shield their attacks. The Fortress is more vulnerable to attack there than in open space.”
“That is true, of course,” Valthyrra agreed. “But Donalt Trace may not be stupid enough to follow us into a trap.”
“He might be persuaded.”
The council of war ended soon. They had to move quickly, before Donalt Trace grew impatient and launched another warhead to prod them along, and there was still much to do. Those members of the Methryn’s crew who had no part to serve in actual battle were sent to the Kalvyn. Lenna accepted her order to join them with unusual grace. Perhaps she had enough of heavy G’s to understand why it was necessary.
Schayressa had known that the Methryn would need her own packs, as well as the bay crew members and service personnel to assist them. She also meant to send over her entire engineering and damage-control crew to help keep the Methryn in working order. Since very little of a carrier’s crew was designated as nonessential, Valthyrra found herself with eight hundred more crewmembers than she had to begin with; the Kalvyn, who was not going into battle, was the one to send away most of her crew. Denlayk and Keldryn were sent back to the Kalvyn to supervise the transfer of personnel, and Schayressa removed her presence to her own ship as soon as the discussion was over.
As soon as Velmeran declared their business concluded, Mayelna rose and hurried purposefully from the room as if she was needed somewhere else and was late already. Noting her hasty escape, Tryn ran after her.
“Mayelna, wait!” he called after her. She turned and waited for him a short distance down the corridor that led to her cabin.
“It has been a long time,” Tryn began questioningly, as if that was a substitute for what he actually wished to say.
Velmeran and Consherra paused at the door of the council room, already aware of something. Lenna, ignorant of what was said because she did not speak Tresdyland, hurried off on business of her own.
“Yes, it has been a long time,” Mayelna agreed after a moment’s pause. “Eighteen years, as you said. And we did not see that much of each other even then. We have never been able to see each other as often as we would wish. You have your ship and your responsibilities, and I have mine. And the paths of our ships cross only once in a great while.”
Tryn nodded slowly. “And when we part this time, will it be another eighteen years before we meet again? Our years are passing quickly now. We were not old the last time we were together, but now we are. Will one of us be gone before chance brings us back together again?”
“Tryn, there is no way that either of us could know,” Mayelna replied. “I cannot leave the Methryn to be with you. The way things have been these past two years, my responsibility to this ship is greater than ever. And I will not even ask you to leave the Kalvyn to be with me.”
“No, that is not possible,” he agreed regretfully.
“Then the only answer is that we must continue as we have, taking the time that is given to us, and hope that chance will be kinder to us in days to come,” Mayelna said, and smiled. “This much I can promise you. By the time we are finished here, we are going to have a matching pair of ships that are going to spend at least half a year in the repair docks together, longer than all the time that we have had together in all the years since we first met and loved. Then, when the time comes to part, we will treat it as our last, knowing that it may well be. And if we do meet again in years to come, then that will be chance’s gift to us.”
As if on cue, Valthyrra drifted around the corner at that moment when her name was mentioned, moving silently up behind Velmeran and Consherra. Having grown impatient with waiting in Mayelna’s office, she had sent
