Thorarinn Gunnarsson - Tactical Error

“I will try to make this very brief,” he told Trel and Marlena just before he slipped on his helmet.

It seemed that the station guards had taken no notice of the three Starwolves preparing for battle. They drew their guns and took swift aim, filling the wide corridor in a sudden storm of bolts that exploded in flame and smoke against the walls and ceiling. The guards ducked their heads and dove for cover.

Baress seized the moment of confusion, hurtling himself with surprising speed down the length of the corridor to the entrance of the control room, located before the center of the bay and a quarter of a kilometer from the entrance to the airlock. Trel and Marlena continued to shoot as rapidly as their guns could charge, maintaining the confusion in a deadly hail of bolts.

Baress ducked inside the entrance to the control room, looking quickly about for the emergency release. Fortunately it was clearly marked, a large lever located in a recessed box beneath the main control panel. Holding the release trigger, he pulled back sharply on the lever. Explosive bolts blew within the frames of the two sets of braces which held the Methryn steady within the bay by the ends of her blunt wings, and gas pistons swung the braces clear. For a moment the immense carrier hung suspended in freefall, steadied only by the nose bracket that held her shock bumper and a pair of long, slender docking tubes.

Baress waited only long enough to see that the Methryn was clear, then hurried back to the door. The guards had regrouped and were doing their best to return fire from the cover of a side corridor, but Trel and Marlena, shooting from the cover provided by the crates, were reminding them to keep their distance, and their weak pistols could not have pierced Starwolf armor even from a much closer range. He covered the distance back to the airlock in a matter of seconds, sending his companions on ahead of him.

“The ship is clear,” Valthyrra announced. “All of our people are back on board and accounted for. The other carriers report the same.”

Velmeran nodded. “Get under way.”

The Methryn began to back out of the bay, moving straight and steady until she was well clear of the edges of the bay. The pair of long, slender docking probes shattered as she first began to move back, their length splintered into segments that spun aimlessly in the freefall of the bay. Then she turned with surprising speed and agility for a ship so vast, whipping around, then accelerating directly away from the station, moving out of system on a course that would take her back toward Union space. First the Delvon, then the Valdayen fell in close beside her. Flying in tight formation, the three carriers continued to accelerate to light speed.

“System control is calling,” Valthyrra reported. “President Delike wants to talk to you.”

“I thought he would,” Velmeran commented. “He did impress me as a slow learner. Put him through.”

“Commander Velmeran?” That voice sounded uncertain, surprised, and perhaps even a little hurt. Something had happened that he obviously did not understand.

“You made this inevitable,” Velmeran told him plainly, not waiting for him to ask. He had no more patience for this simple man. “You were badly mistaken on at least one point. I am not obliged to obey your word. When you treat a Kelvessan like a machine, you have found the quickest way to arouse our complete and unforgiving anger.”

“But you can’t do this,” Delike protested. “You will destroy our peace.”

“There is no peace that does not include us,” Velmeran answered. “You and your friends have committed a very serious crime against my people. I have other important business to attend to just now, but then I will be coming back to have an accounting from you. Think on that.”

“I order you to return!”

“Barking asshole!” Velmeran muttered, then turned to Valthyrra. “Cut that. Let them think about it for a while.”

“Perimeter defense cannons are moving to intercept us,” Valthyrra warned him. “Should we prepare to destroy them?”

“Not if we can help it,” Velmeran said. “That is our property, and very expensive to replace. We will try to get into starflight before they come into range, but be ready all the same.”

Whether he liked it or not, he was afraid that they would have to destroy the defense drones. They were built like small carriers that lacked stardrives, barely an eighth as large, carrying no crews and automated rather than self-aware like their larger cousins. And yet, despite their relatively small size, they carried a firepower that even a carrier had to respect. Being fairly stupid machines, they could not be bluffed.

“Valthyrra, go ahead and send out a warning to all other carriers,” he added after a moment. “Inform them of the situation. Tell them to continue their patrols for now, but to button things up and be ready to come when I call. Tell them to anticipate about two weeks.”

“Do you really anticipate a fight?” Consherra asked, watching from her station at the helm.

“No, I think not,” he said. “Without the Starwolves, the Republic has only a fraction of the strength of the Union. Two carriers could go through the Republic Militia in a matter of days. Twenty or so carriers would be overkill, except that they do make a very powerful weapon of negotiation.”

“Twenty or so carriers moving in formation would frighten anyone.”

“Coming into range in forty seconds,” Valthyrra reported. He looked up at her. “Can you make it into starflight by then?”

“If we give our run a couple of more G’s, then make the jump just a little premature.”

Velmeran nodded. “Do it.”

“Coming into visual range of the nearest drone,” Valthyrra reported.

Valthyrra centered the main image of her viewscreen on the scan of the nearest defense drone, sitting almost directly in their path. As black as space itself, its triangular hull was in most ways like that of a carrier, short of nose and lacking a tail to house a stardrive. Velmeran stood for a moment, watching the drone.

“Cut acceleration,” he said suddenly. “Cut across its path at the very outside limit of its range, shield to full, but do not return fire.”

“Well… sure,” Valthyrra agreed reluctantly, obviously confused. She relayed the order to a pair of very perplexed carriers. “Stand by.”

The three carriers suddenly turned sharply, banking steeply to show their relatively unprotected bellies to the drone as they skimmed the outside range of its cannons. The automated warship opened fire, but at that distance even its efficient tracking sensors could not lock on target effectively and the volley of shots, already dissipating, went wide. The carriers began to accelerate again, moving out of range, and the drone moved to follow them, but it could never hope to match their speed before they were gone. A few moments later they disappeared into starflight.

Valthyrra turned her camera pod to stare at Velmeran. “You wanted that thing to shoot at us.”

He shrugged helplessly. “Who says that a Starwolf cannot learn to play politics? Laroose says that Delike and his friends are hanging on the very edge of public condemnation as it is, and they just shot first at poor Starwolves who were only running for their lives. Now we can go see what Lenna thinks will be the end of civilization as we know it.”

Keflyn turned and looked up into the cool, clear morning sky, watching the Thermopylae’s shuttle as it circled around to land. She had not yet seen the unpowered landing of the odd little spacecraft, and she definitely wanted to see this. The shuttle had already brought its wings all the way forward and was now rolling back its flaps. Riding the wind, it shook and dipped in a manner that Keflyn would have ordinarily considered to be bordering on a loss of control. Descending over the runway, it lifted its nose at the last moment and settled onto its rear wheels. Still rolling at a fairly high speed, it dropped its nose until the forward wheels touched down as well. Additional braking flaps in the wings and to either side of the tail snapped open to assist the regular brakes in slowing the ship. It slowed quickly but with obvious strain, turning off the runway and pulling to a stop only a few meters from where Derrighan and Keflyn watched.