Thorarinn Gunnarsson - Battle of the Ring

“How did she get on board, anyway?” Velmeran asked as they made their way from the bridge.

“How else?” Mayelna asked in return. “She presented herself at a transport and asked to be brought to the ship. She looks enough like us that she looks remarkably like a Kelvessa pretending to be human. She told the pilot that she was Consherra — “

“Consherra?” Velmeran interrupted.

“Well, yes. I suspect that was the only name she knew to give. She probably learned just enough general information from you to give the right answers to a few questions. And there was a good measure of the old Kelvessan gullibility. The transport pilot just assumed that no one but a Starwolf would want aboard a Starwolf ship.”

“Gullibility?” Velmeran asked. “Such as how you not only pardoned her but gave her the run of the ship?”

“Blarney, they used to call it,” Mayelna mused. “There must have been more Irish settlers on that world than Scottish. Only an Irishman can use the plain truth like she does the way other men lie. We have a protective instinct, and she seems to have a talent for making the most of it. I seem to recall that you threw someone through a wall to protect her.”

“I did it because he was a Union agent sent to harass the Kanians, and because he pretended to be half Kelvessan,” Velmeran said defensively.

“And then I should pardon someone who pretends to be a real Starwolf?” Mayelna asked.

“It is a simple matter of intent. How did she give herself away?”

“G’s.” She shrugged and turned the corner, only to find herself face-to-face with one of Valthyrra’s remotes. She drew back.

“Hello,” Valthyrra said. “What is taking you so long?”

“We were talking,” Mayelna said curtly, and turned back to, Velmeran. “Where did you get that ridiculous idea of dressing up as a human, anyway?”

“That was your suggestion,” he reminded her.

“Was it?” She paused a moment to reflect. “Well, even good ideas can go wrong. As that may be, stowaways are the least of our worries now.”

Mayelna herded the two ahead of her, down the side corridor and into her own cabin. The door shut behind them, and it did not open again for several hours.

Lenna sank into the Commander’s seat like melting butter after half an unrelenting hour of acceleration. Her system was, in fact, designed for this type of stress, but it had been too long. Flying freight had not been enough to prepare her for this. Consherra was there immediately with a drink, a pill, and something to eat.

“Take this,” Consherra insisted, offering the pill and the drink. “Our medic Dyenlerra wants to find out if it will kill you.”

Lenna paused in the act of taking the pill to look at it closely. “Is this Starwolf medicine?”

“No, strictly for human consumption,” Consherra assured her. “You might be our first uninvited guest, but we pluck humans out of wrecks all the time. I also have bread and cheese.”

Lenna accepted the light meal and leaned back in the seat as she waited for her strength to return. Consherra had remained at her side nearly the entire time. Lenna could see now that she had been lucky to get away with pretending to be this girl for as long as she had.

“If that was holding back, what kind of G’s do you people normally take?” Lenna asked.

“In normal cruising, about the same,” Consherra explained. “When we are in a real hurry, we still hold off at about forty-five. That is about all we can take and still be able to move about easily. Emergency accelerations are something quite different. The most I have ever known was about one hundred and forty, and I was flying at the time.”

“Do you fly this ship often?” Lenna asked, rising unsteadily to peer over the front of the Commander’s console at the helm station on the middle bridge. “Are those manual controls retracted under the central monitor?”

“Of course. You can fly this ship like an overgrown fighter. Valthyrra flies herself for the most part, although I get to set runs from time to time. But I hardly ever touch the manual controls. I really spend most of my time assisting Mayelna and Velmeran in running this ship, not flying it.”

Lenna frowned. “I think that I would prefer a Trader, if you’ll pardon my saying so. I’m more interested in flying than giving orders.”

“I can understand that. How are you feeling?”

“Fairly good, actually,” she said, rising and stretching her arms. “I am getting a bit cold, though. I’ve done some serious sweating this morning, and not all of it from the G’s. You do keep this place a bit cool.”

“Did you bring a change of clothes?”

“I did come prepared for a wee bit of a stay,” Lenna remarked guardedly.

Consherra smiled. “If you are able, I will show you to your cabin now. You can change and rest a bit there. I will come for you again when it is time for you to eat, and then I will show you about the ship… before you take a notion to wander off on your own.”

Lenna was shown to a cabin that she considered luxurious by the standards of space travel. There was carpeting on the floor and real wood paneling on portions of the wall, with a small kitchen and a regular bathroom. Her first thought was for a shower, for she was eager for the feel of hot water on sore joints and muscles as well as to rid herself of the heavy layer of makeup. Valthyrra had prepared the room for her, turning the thermostat up as high as it would go. But she had no desire to be wet and naked in an environment that was now only slightly uncomfortable, and she had some doubts about what the Starwolves would call hot water. But she did find that she could get water hot enough to suit her, and letting it run with the door partly open steamed the small bathroom to a bearable level. She did wonder what a shower was like in high G’s. Apparently that was taken into consideration; the door shut and locked so tightly that the shower needed special ventilation.

She really did not care to rest afterward, testimony to her ability to recover quickly from such stresses, not to mention the fact that she was entirely too excited. It was thrilling to think that she was alone in a ship full of Starwolves — a community of Starwolves, as it were, and all her very own. It was as well that she did not need to rest, for Consherra returned for her soon after she was dressed.

“You do not look quite so Kelvessan as you did before,” she said, pausing just inside the door to regard the girl closely.

“Makeup,” Lenna explained. “I know how to use it. It might be that my eyes no longer seem quite as large.”

“That must be it,” Consherra agreed, although she did not sound entirely certain. “I am glad that you have returned to native costume. It is something of a treat, having an alien visitor on board. I especially want to show you to the little ones. They have never seen a human before.”

“These clothes were made for Kanis, where it’s mostly as cold as it is here,” Lenna said. She had been looking at the Kelvessa nearly as intently. Consherra had been in armor before, but now she wore white pants and tunic that formed the quasi-uniform of a Starwolf officer. In a way she looked far more alien now, since these clothes did not mask but emphasized her alien features. More than anything, that second set of arms, which did not appear so out of place with the heavy armor, now stood out prominently.

The first thing Lenna learned was that there was no division of night and day on a Starwolf carrier, since Kelvessan did not sleep. As a result the meals were not divided into breakfast, lunch, and the like, just three dinners a day. Unfortunately, the dining hall was mostly empty; the last meal was only just over, having been delayed until the Methryn was in starflight.