always thought they should be good for something.”
He reached down, taking the Starwolf’s neck in his own large hands. No human could have killed a Kelvessan in this way, but the cybernetics had ironically given him some of the tremendous strength and speed of his enemy. And yet, even as he locked both of his hands about Velmeran’s neck, there was a stark flash of brilliant energy and Trace threw himself backward with a cry.
Velmeran picked himself up slowly and painfully, leaning on the window ledge for support. He glanced at Commander Trace, stunned by powers he had not expected. “You always did underestimate me.”
Donalt Trace did not feel inclined to answer. Gasping for breath and struggling with mechanical arms that were reluctant to obey his commands, he retreated into the far end of the long, narrow room. He pulled himself up by the edge of the desk, thinking to reach for the weapon that he had left there, wondering why Velmeran had allowed him to live so long. Then he looked up, and drew back in dread.
Starwolves had arrived, two in black armor, helping Velmeran to stand and checking the monitors in the chestplate of his damaged suit. Standing between the Kelvessan and himself was a creature unlike any that he had ever seen, an armored form like a white dragon, standing on four long, rangy legs with four triple-jointed arms with a weapon in each hand, centered on him. Its long neck was bent in his direction, although the mirrored eyeplates of the helmet held no expression. He knew what it was he faced, for all that he had never known until that moment whether the Valtrytians were real, as Velmeran had told him over dinner half a lifetime past, or if they were legend.
“So, it seems that I am denied that one small wish after all,” he remarked wryly. “If my luck had been so perfect, I would have lost my faith in it.”
“I think that I can still upset a great many of your schemes,” Velmeran answered him.
“I do not doubt that you will try,” Trace said. “Well, I doubt that we will ever meet again. You are probably on your way home, and I am off to Terra. If you wish to finish this, join me there.”
Complete darkness descended heavily as the lights of both the room and the landing bay outside suddenly went out. Venn Keflyn opened fire instantly, even though she could not see her target, but with four guns she was able to lay down an impressive barrage. Through her helmet, she was unable to hear the closing of the heavy metal door between them, although the flare of her guns and the deflection of her bolts showed her what had happened and she ceased fire. The lights came up a moment later.
“He must be on his way out,” Velmeran said. “There is a small lift in that part of the room. Trace was correct in believing that he is paying stricter attention to details these days. He selected this place carefully, just in case I still got the better of him.”
“Commander, our ships in the bay are under attack,” Barest warned.”Light arms and sentries. Lenna is getting her mechanical pet keyed in to the bay controls to get the overhead doors open.”
He nodded. “We will get out of here as fast as we can. You two go ahead to help the others hold the bay. With Venn Keflyn’s help, I should be along in a minute.”
The two pilots hurried to reinforce the others, protecting the ships that were down in the bay. Velmeran was recovering quickly from his wound, his highly efficient physiology compensating for the damage. The armor-piercing bullet, as large and heavy as it was, had expended nearly its entire energy in piercing the suit. It had struck the iron-based bone of the complex system of struts of his double-shoulder almost immediately, by chance bouncing straight back into the hole it had cut through the suit. Venn Keflyn helped him to replace his helmet, mostly for its protection against enemy fire.
“Valthyrra Methryn directed us to this bay,” the Aldessan explained as they made their way to the stairs that would take them down to the bay floor. “She did not trust Commander Trace. It seems that she was correct.”
Velmeran did not answer, but he could not help but think that he would have killed Donalt Trace if it had not been for their sudden intervention and Venn Keflyn’s assumption that she had the Union Commander captive. Velmeran hoped that she did not sense his thoughts, but very much on his mind was the realization that Trace was now on his way to destroy Terra. And the fact that his own daughter was there, perhaps unaware of where she really was, certainly unaware of her danger.
“Do you know what he told me?” Velmeran asked.
“Valthyrra was listening through your suit com,” Venn Keflyn explained.
He reached inside the chestplate of his suit, shutting off his communications to all but his close contact with the Aldessa. “We may have just lost it, my friend. I hardly know what to think. Would your people be likely to rescue us from this?”
“You are our children,” she told him. “We would not hesitate. But the Aldessan are a very long way from here. I do not believe that I could bring help before the destruction of Alkayja.”
“Could you go immediately?”
“I will be in starflight even before you are back aboard the Methryn. But my ship does not have a jump drive, as fast as it may be.”
The overhead doors were open by the time they reached the bay, although the battle continued as fiercely as ever. Venn Keflyn protected Velmeran as well as she could, occasional bolts deflecting harmlessly off her own armor as they hurried across the short open space to the knot of parked ships. The pilots were already in the fighters, Trel taking Velmeran’s own, pivoting the ships around to face outward to bring their more powerful guns to bear against the sentries firing from the protection of distant doorways.
Venn Keflyn deposited Velmeran at the side hatch of the transport, then hurried to her own corvette.
Velmeran sealed the hatch, then paused. Lenna Makayen lay in an unconscious wreck on a medical stretcher strapped against the far wall, her left arm ripped away at the shoulder by the hail of crossfire that had caught her as she and Bill had hurried back to the ships after opening the overhead doors. That was only the worst of her damage, and Velmeran was amazed that she was still alive. Marlena was bent over her, furiously administering the best medical attention she could give. Bill, his four long legs folded beneath him, was already strapped to the floor nearby. He was scorched from the barrage he had endured, protecting Lenna with his own armored hull until help had arrived. He looked oddly forlorn.
“Valthyrra has the transport on remote,” Marlena reported without looking up from her work. “I know that you were wounded yourself, but can you take control of the ship, at least until we are clear of the bay? We would all feel better for it.”
“Yes, I have it,” he agreed.
Entering the cabin, he eased himself into the pilot’s seat, tossing his helmet into the other. He took the ship off remote direction.
“I have it, Val,” he said aloud. He brought the transport up, lifting the unfamiliar ship straight up through the open overhead doors. He did not engage the engines until he was in clear sky, and even then he accelerated cautiously to spare Lenna the worst of the climb into space.
“Are you well?” Valthyrra asked hesitantly.
“Well enough,” he agreed. “I will bring the transport straight into the fighter bay to save time. Have complete medical assistance standing by. Lenna is not going to make it, but just in case.”
“Of course, Commander.” Valthyrra sounded as dejected as Bill looked.
“Send out an achronic message to every ship immediately,” he continued. “Order every carrier to return to Alkayja Base at once, best possible speed. If no one is there to give them further orders, they are to stand off and await the arrival of the Valtrytian fleet. As for yourself, destroy this installation as soon as we are clear. Perhaps we can still catch Donalt Trace on the ground, assuming that he was lucky enough to escape Venn Keflyn. We will be going into starflight as soon as the ships are aboard. What is the best speed you can give us?”
“I can make most of the run home in a series of long jumps, running at high starflight speeds while the drive recovers and recharges between jumps,” she answered. “Perhaps five days.”
“Do it,” Velmeran agreed reluctantly, knowing as Valthyrra did that she would tear herself apart doing so. Because of the stress on the Methryn’s spaceframe and systems, they had been limiting their jumps to only moderate distances, and then only from relatively low speeds. The Methryn would get home in time, and she would go out to fight. But even if she survived, she would never fly again. This was likely the Methryn’s final run.
“What about Terra?” Valthyrra reminded him gently.
He shook his head weakly. “Terra is just one largely uninhabited and unimportant world in the middle of nowhere. We have to sacrifice that world to save our own.”
Even as he made that decision, he knew that he was probably condemning Keflyn to her death. Donalt
