Thorarinn Gunnarsson - Battle of the Ring

“I know how it works,” Lenna assured him. “Tregloran explained it to me.”

“He did?” Velmeran looked questioningly at Tregloran, who pretended ignorance.

All the various weapons were handed out to the members of the assault force, and they hurried to their ships to stow their equipment. Velmeran helped Consherra with her own, since she handled the weapons with such unease that they might have been fierce, alien creatures and likely to bite. Climbing into the cockpit, however, she betrayed her complete familiarity with the fighter.

“I will get you back safely,” he assured her as he helped her fasten her straps.

She looked at him with open astonishment. “I am not concerned about myself. I know that you will be taking all the chances, so I want you to watch out for yourself. Just remember that the winning of this battle does not win the war. We need you alive for more important matters.”

Velmeran smiled. “Now you sound like my mother.”

“Oh?” she asked skeptically, and smiled. “When we come back, I have something to say that should convince you otherwise.”

“Glad to hear it,” he remarked, and kissed her quickly.

He left a crewmember to assist her in securing the cockpit, gathering the weapons he had left beneath the fighter and hurrying to his own ship. He knew that he was wasting too much time. Valthyrra had already begun her evasive maneuvers, and would soon be complaining that he was likely to ruin all their careful planning with his procrastination. The ship had long since ceased to be concerned for his safety, at least as far as he could tell. Mayelna did quite enough worrying for the two of them, so he was not surprised to find her waiting beside his fighter.

“I came to see you off,” she said, almost apologetically. “I do not suppose that I need to remind you to be careful.”

“That idea has already occurred to me,” he assured her as he transferred his weapons to his lower hands and keyed the hidden latch to his fighter’s cargo compartment. “Would it be pointless of me to ask you not to worry?”

“No way,” she said. “How is Consherra?”

“Calm, confident, and nearly as eager to begin as Lenna is,” Velmeran said, his voice echoing hollowly as he worked inside the compartment. “I wonder why this means so much to her.”

“Well, she used to be quite a Starwolf when she was your age, when she still flew with the packs. That was a few years before you were even thought of, naturally. I think she wants to prove that she is also a very capable warrior, and not just a bridge officer.” She paused a moment to watch him closely. “She has not forgotten that Dveyella was a warrior. And that, had she lived, she would be going out with you on all these missions.”

“Consherra is comparing herself with a memory,” Velmeran stated as he tightened the stowage straps around the gun. “And an increasingly dim memory.”

“True, but the memory she is comparing herself against is her own, not yours. Perhaps it is more important for her to prove something to herself.”

Velmeran seemed about to say something, but decided otherwise. She walked with him around the front of the fighter and up the steps of the boarding platform, holding his helmet as he climbed inside the cockpit. She obviously had something important in mind, some matter too important to wait. Velmeran seemed too distracted to notice. In truth, he had something equally important to say, if he could only find the words.

“Consherra means a great deal to you,” Mayelna said at last, watching him fasten his straps. “You are aware, perhaps, that a male and female may share a special relationship. There most often comes a time in everyone’s life when you meet someone, and both of you become aware that the two of you will be keeping company for a very long time to come. But you must also realize, when a male and female join as mates, they are also peforming a natural function and must be prepared for the results that nature intended. Do you understand what I am saying?”

Velmeran stared at her in utter amazement. With typical Kelvessan innocence, he completely misinterpreted her implications. “If this is the little talk we should have had fifteen years ago… well, we should have had it fifteen years ago. I am quite aware that Consherra and I are likely to have a child sooner or later. Considering her sexual instincts, it will probably be sooner.”

“Soon enough,” Mayelna agreed vaguely. “Would that please you?”

“I imagine that it would please me very much,” Velmeran said as he fastened the last strap. He paused a moment, uncertain, and looked up at her. “Valthyrra will be going in for overhaul after this. I was wondering… perhaps… if you would like to retire then.”

Mayelna stared in absolute astonishment and mystification. “Retire? Why would I want to retire at this time?”

Velmeran shrugged. “It makes about as much sense as what you were talking about.”

“That may be so,” Mayelna agreed, affording him a searching stare. “Are you ready to command this ship? I do not question your ability to do so; you have for the last two years. What I mean is, do you want to?”

Velmeran nodded slowly. “As you said, I have commanded here for two years now. I no longer have the time to run a regular pack as well as this ship and my special tactics team. Nor does my pack bring me the pleasure and sense of fulfillment it once did. I have outgrown it, you might say.”

“So now you want my chair?” Mayelna asked, smiling with amusement.

Velmeran smiled shyly in return. “I would take nothing away from you. I just thought that — under the circumstances — you might want to take up residence on the Kalvyn.”

Mayelna swallowed apprehensively and looked away quickly to hide the tears that rushed to her eyes. Nothing in all her long years had touched her as much as that simple offer. Nothing meant more to her. “Meran, what… what can I say?”

“You can say yes,” he suggested hopefully.

“Are you going anytime soon?” Valthyrra demanded suddenly over com, her voice echoing dimly from the helmet Mayelna held. She looked down at it, then reached out and set the helmet on his head.

“You go take care of business, Commander Velmeran,” she said as she fastened the collar clips. “I will watch your ship until you come back.”

Maeken Kea was still fastening her jacket when she arrived at the bridge. As a matter of fact, it was the only part of her uniform that she had on. In her years as the Commander of a warship, she had learned through experience to always wear something when she tried to catch a little sleep when battle was likely. But the Starwolves had a certain perversity on that score; they had been careful to attack while she was in the shower. She reasoned that, if she got only one thing on by the time she reached the bridge, the jacket was long enough to keep her decently covered — if just barely. She was correct, for the most part; she was blissfully unaware that the tail of the jacket was split in the same place her own tail was split.

Lieutenant Skerri saw her the moment she entered and pretended to notice nothing strange, although she could well imagine the stimulation to his postadolescent fantasies. She threw her pants in his direction and headed straight for her console.

“So what is it?” she demanded briskly as she bent over her monitor.

“Captain, the Methryn’s corridor has turned straight out from the planet,” Skerri reported. “It seemed suspicious to me, so I knew that you would jump on it.”

“You bet your — “

“Collision imminent!” Marenna Challenger warned suddenly.

Maeken glanced anxiously at the main viewscreen, where the danger was immediately obvious. A rock of respectable size, a kilometer and more wide by half a kilometer high, was hurtling down the Methryn’s corridor, moving fast and accelerating rapidly along a path designed to make the best use of the gravity of the large planet below. Numbers projected to one corner of the screen estimated time to impact and counted down sixteen to fifteen even as she watched. Maeken needed only an instant to decide.