consideration.
The trouble was that the Methryn had learned more than anyone had really expected, but still less than they needed to know. She had proven that the Dreadnought could be fought and even hurt, but even her brief scan during the moment that the alien weapon’s shield had been down had not revealed any great secrets. The ship continued to defy any interior scans, and little enough could be inferred from the limited exterior view. If Valthyrra had been going home with a clear idea of how to destroy the Dreadnought, those same Great Powers would find it harder to deny her.
“I am sitting at threshold,” Valthyrra announced soon enough. “Shall I attempt the transition into starflight?”
“When you feel ready,” Gelrayen told her.
“Ready to engage star drives,” she warned the bridge crew. “Stand by all manual controls.”
As it happened, the only failure that was likely to require any member of the bridge crew to intercede with manual controls was the failure of Valthyrra herself, and that was extremely unlikely to happen for any reason except for complete power loss. The star drives began to phase very smoothly, especially so because they were slow to develop even the limited power available to them; so gentle, in fact, that it seemed for a moment that the carrier might even fail to pass threshold. Once she was in starflight, she continued to build speed at a leisurely but steady pace.
“I am settled into starflight to stay,” Valthyrra announced. “My drives might be weak, but they remain responsive. I will continue to build to my best cruising speed as things are before I try tampering with the star drives to boost their efficiency.” “Commander?” Kayendel asked; she was one of several crewmembers looking over their shoulders.
Gelrayen looked up at the camera pod. “Val?”
She knew what the game was, and she was eager enough to play along. “I really do not want any of those monitors or manual controls unsupervised for even a moment until I am settled into my best possible speed and we all feel certain that nothing will go wrong. Say, another ten hours? I hope that no one minds taking such a long watch without interruption.”
“We should be comfortable,” Kayendel remarked sourly as she turned back to her monitors.
Gelrayen was looking so amused, Captain Tarrel decided that it was time to take a part in their little game for herself. “Valthyrra, I have been thinking.”
The camera pod turned toward her. “You do it well.”
“You know, I have been very uncomfortable with the temperature aboard this ship since I first came aboard.” As a matter of fact, she really did not mind it much at all. “It occurred to me that part of the reason you have to keep it so cold is so that Kelvessan can wear clothes that, as you pointed out earlier, they hardly need. If none of the Starwolves aboard this ship wore their clothes, you could move up the temperatures to a level that I would find more comfortable.”
“Yes, that sounds very reasonable.” Valthyrra turned her camera pod to Gelrayen, who was looking very surprised by that time. “Commander, it would be very hospitable of us if we made that suggestion a standing order.”
Watching Gelrayen try to explain his way out of that one proved to be very entertaining.
Valthyrra had to fuss over her ailing star drives every step of the way, but she managed to bring herself home on her earliest projected schedule of nine days and was still able to avoid damaging herself in the process. When she finally dropped out of starflight well inside the Alkayja system, she was not the only one to feel extremely relieved to have actually made it. She transferred full power to her two remaining forward drives, struggling to cut her tremendous speed with only half the thrust that should have been available to her.
She had, of course, sent her full report on ahead to Alkayja by a tight-beam achronic message as soon as she had escaped from the Dreadnought, a week and a half earlier. Nothing that she had to say would come as a surprise, but Fleet Commander Asandi and his associates were still awaiting direct reports and observations, not only from her but Commander Gelrayen and Captain Tarrel as well. In fact, Asandi was in communication with the Methryn as soon as he was told that she was in system.
“Commander Gelrayen, your ship seems to have done quite well for herself, ” Asandi began enthusiastically. “We will try to have a construction bay ready for you as soon as you can get here. I’m afraid that we are still working on getting all the replacement parts she needs, however.”
“Thank you, Commander,” Gelrayen responded, standing over Captain Tarrel’s seat as he used the com on the upper bridge. If Valthyrra Methryn was very much in favor with Commander Asandi himself, that served as a good indicator about her future.
“It seems a shame to have had our newest carrier damaged on her first flight, but we expected that,” Asandi continued, then paused. “Commander, why are all the members of your crew naked? Not that it really matters to me, of course. That is entirely your own business.”
“Val, this was supposed to be audio only,” Gelrayen complained softly as he realizing that the ship must be supplying a visual image through her own camera pod. “Well, yes Commander. That was Valthyrra’s suggestion actually. We are keeping portions of the ship warmer than usual, for Captain Tarrel’s comfort.”
“Very considerate, especially considering that we supplied her with self-warming clothing before the Methym departed,” Asandi observed, seeming to realize that someone had been having a little joke at the expense of the Starwolves, known for their unfortunate tendency to be a little too gullible. “We will be having a quick meeting to discuss your observations as soon as you can secure the Methryn in her bay. I might add that most of us do plan to dress for the occasion. I will see you soon.”
“Thank you, Commander,” Gelrayen replied, then glared at the camera pod. “Valthyrra Methryn, I was worried enough about our credibility as it was.”
“Commander, I never honestly expected you to go along with that silly idea in the first place,” Valthyrra told him. “You could have simply said no.”
Actually, Valthyrra knew perfectly well that it was entirely her own fault. She had never taken advantage of anyone in her life, even as a jest, and she had found it impossible to resist. Digging into her vast archives of information, she had been able to tell Gelrayen that the Kelvessan had not been allowed to wear clothing, except for their armor, for the first five thousand years of their existence, a time when nudity had been a sign of their status as the property of the Republic as an artificial race. They had gotten into the habit of wearing clothes, and then only when it pleased them, simply because they were now allowed to. No member of the Methryn’s crew had thought to ask what relevance that had to the present situation. Being motivated by an instinct to be helpful, they had gone along with the scheme.
For her own part, Captain Tarrel had done nothing to interfere. She was not entirely certain, but she believed that it had been good for them. Of the few known intelligent races, only humans and Kelvessan were in the habit of wearing clothes. The Kelvessan had no racial identity beyond the rather uncomfortable association of being an artificial race — property and genetic weapons of war but not real people — and they were very good at avoiding the question of what their true identity should be. As long as they could hide their alien and yet vaguely human forms in clothes, then they were able to wrap themselves in the illusion that they were in some obscure manner mostly human. Forcing them to look at themselves, in the collective sense and meaning no vulgar innuendoes that did not apply, also seemed to force them to think about just what it meant to be Kelvessan.
Captain Tarrel had various reasons to be interested in this experiment, enough so that she had actually spoken privately with Valthyrra Methryn on the matter. Whether they knew it or not, the Kelvessan wanted a racial identity of their own. And if they came to feel secure and satisfied as a race in their own right, they probably would lose interest in maintaining the endless war that they had been bred to fight. Either they would go their own way and leave human space to deal with itself, or they would contrive a quick end to the war on terms they would be prepared to enforce. Whichever way things turned out, Tarrel believed that it would be best for everyone involved.
Valthyrra had agreed that it did the Kelvessan good to face such questions, but she doubted that they would come to any sudden answers, although she did agree that beginning the process now would help them to work their way slowly toward a solution over the next few generations. As she pointed out, the real problem that the Kelvessan faced was only of physical appearance; the fact that they still looked vaguely human kept them trapped in the illusion that they needed to act human. The Aldessan of Valtrys, who had executed their actual genetic design, had done them no favor in failing to make their appearance alien and unique enough to differentiate them.
