Battle of the Ring (28 page)

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Authors: Thorarinn Gunnarsson

BOOK: Battle of the Ring
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“You did not see anyone,” he told the machine.

The sentry made no reply, but neither did it open fire. Velmeran
gestured the others past and slipped by the sentry when they were clear. They
froze along the wall behind it, but the machine took no notice as it trotted
awkwardly down the corridor the way they had come.

 

“What do you make of it?” Maeken Kea inquired.

The security officer shrugged. “I can only guess, but it was no
malfunction. A Kalfethki was inside the airlock when they were sealed. Perhaps
he tried to open the wrong door. Perhaps he simply wanted to die with his
companions. Any survivor would not have been a willing one, knowing that his
death was ordered.”

“Just keep watch until the sentries have a chance to tally the
dead,” she told him. “I do not want any of those licentious lizards
wandering about the ship. There is no telling what strange ideas some survivor
might dream up.”

Maeken Kea was not particularly pleased with the situation, nor with Donalt
Trace. She had not liked the idea of two thousand Kalfethki on board her ship
in the first place. She liked even less to have them decompressed at the first
provocation, as much as she had to admit to the necessity. Needless to say, she
still had no idea that Trace had ordered a nuclear strike on Tryalna; he had
contrived to have her off the bridge at that time. As it was, she got along
with him as well as she did because she was under the mistaken impression that
he did not interfere with her command of the ship.

“Captain?”

Maeken looked over and saw that the security officer monitoring and directing
the sentries had called her. The officer was one of several Faldennye who made
up a third of the Challenger’s crew. Maeken was not adept at reading
their expressions, but she had the impression that this young lady had just
been profoundly surprised.

“What is it?”

“Captain, I... I have just received a communication from a
sentry,” she explained hesitantly in her rich, purring voice. “It
called in to report that it had just not seen anyone.”

Maeken reacted to that with predictable mystification. “I take it that
there is something unusual in this?”

“Captain, sentries relay reports only when called for, or when they
have something definite to report. They do not make contact spontaneously to
report nothing.”

Maeken nodded in understanding. “I see what you are getting at.”

“There is also a problem in syntax,” the Feldennye continued.
“The sentry said that it had just not seen anyone. As if it had seen
something important enough to report, and that it was nothing. Something is
wrong.”

“A malfunction?”

She nodded in resignation. “That would have to be it, although a
remote internal check reveals nothing. I have ordered another sentry to
reinforce that one, in the event it is failing.”

“Where did this occur?”

“Here, just as it came off the lift.” She indicated the place on
the map projected on her monitor.

Maeken drew back in surprise. “Not fifty meters from an airlock that
was decompressed. And it is now standing guard outside that very lock.”

“It is so,” the Feldennye agreed. “Could the two incidents
be related?”

“If you can figure out how, then you tell me. The airlock only opened
on the other side.” Maeken glanced at the ceiling, rubbing an aching neck
as she considered the matter. “Keep your eyes open.”

Maeken saw that Commander Trace had returned and hurried to join him on the
central bridge.

“Did you see Lieutenant Skerri?” She asked.

“No, he wasn’t there. He must have returned to his cabin. I
didn’t think to ask for him.”

“Captain!”

She turned in time to see the same Feldennye officer pull off her headphones
and throw them down on her console. The entire bridge crew stared in open
amazement. Feldennye were extraordinarily calm, eventempered people, and
it took a great deal to frustrate them to the point of being upset. Maeken
hurried to her station, the Sector Commander close behind.

“Captain, I was making a complete scan of the location and activity of
all the sentries when I found one unit far from its assigned place,” she
explained. “It belongs near the middle of the ship, but found it as far
forward as it can get. I asked it to explain itself, and it... it told me to
shut up and mind my own business.”

Maeken glanced up at Donalt Trace, but he had missed the previous report and
was even more mystified. She turned back to the security officer. “That
is no simple malfunction, is it?”

“No, Captain.”

“I would guess that either this entire ship is cracking mentally under
the stress of battle, or else someone is tampering with our sentries.”

“That is the only explanation,” the Feldennye agreed.

Maeken turned to the astonished Sector-Commander. “I have to remain
here, so it is up to you. I suggest that you find four or five off-duty crew
members and put rifles in their hands, take as many sentries as you can squeeze
into a lift, and see if you can intercept them.”

“Who?” Trace asked, perplexed.

“You have Starwolves on your ship.”

“Starwolves? Are you sure?” He almost looked faint.

Maeken shrugged helplessly. “Not entirely. It might all be
coincidence, but I doubt it. The Kalfethki were fighting when you killed them.
Were they fighting among themselves, or were they defending your ship? Only a
few minutes later an airlock in a decompressed area opened, and a sentry on the
other side of that lock spouts nonsense.”

“But how could they have gotten into the ship undetected?”

“Simple enough. They must have a device that activates the locks
without alerting the master control. It failed once, and we got a light. A
similar device stuns sentries.” She looked up at Commander Trace.
“Your ship is as good as you meant it to be. They couldn’t hurt it
from the outside, so they mean to wreck it from the inside.”

Donalt Trace shook his head slowly. “Damned Starwolves. But what can
they do?”

“Heaven only knows,” Maeken said. “I will stay on the
bridge and call in about fifty sentries to guard the passages in. You organize
that hunting party and do your best to intercept them.”

 

Velmeran stopped so suddenly that Consherra nearly ran into him from behind.
Both she and Baress snapped their rifles to ready and prepared to shoot
anything that moved.

“They know that we are here,” he said at last. “Donalt
Trace is coming to look for us.”

“That hardly makes any difference,” Baress observed. “This
is a very big ship, and they have only a general idea of where to look for
us.”

“They know what level we are on,” Velmeran told him. “It
might not be long before someone remembers that the auxiliary bridge is on the
same level. I have to do something to turn their attention elsewhere.”

Baress regarded him closely, a wasted gesture, since both of them were in
their helmets. “I think I know what you have in mind.”

“Then you know what you have to do, as well. Sherry, I am going to
have to leave you for a while, to lay a false trail to lead Commander Trace
away into some other part of the ship. Baress will watch out for you until I
come back.”

“But what about my part?” she asked. “I cannot get into
this ship’s computers without your help.”

“Just call to me when you are ready,” he told her. “I will
be listening for you. Do not worry about me. All I intend to do is to make my
way toward the main bridge tripping lights and upsetting sentries as I go. I
can move faster than they can follow, then catch up with you when you are
finished.”

“You watch out for yourself,” Consherra called after him as he
hurried down the corridor the way they had come.

“Come on,” Baress urged her gently. “He has done this type
of work often enough to have learned how to stay out of trouble. And the sooner
we finish our work, the sooner we can all get out of here.”

Consherra agreed with the logic in that and reluctantly joined him as they
hurried on their way.

Velmeran retreated back up the corridor about a hundred meters, where he had
seen an access tube, and quickly descended five levels toward the center of the
ship. The plan of the Challenger was as complicated as the map of several
cities stacked one on the other, but he had committed the basic mechanical
design to selective recall and he knew the trick of navigating the major
corridors. Soon after reaching the lower level, he happened upon a sentry
unfortunate enough to be facing the wrong direction and quietly slipped a heat
charge on its back. That should be enough to shift any pursuit down to this new
level.

After that he dropped two more levels and located a corridor that took him
laterally toward the interior of the ship and the mechanical core that ran
through the very center of its length.

All the power lines from the engines and turrets met here, merging with
eighty additional generators before being channeled into the field drive and
shield generators. Centermost, a hexagonal chamber two hundred meters across
and running twenty-five kilometers from one end of the vessel to the other, it
was the spine of the ship, a power core capable of containing and channeling
the power of a small star.

Velmeran had to force the access doors to the power core, intentionally
allowing an indicator to light on the bridge. He followed the core forward,
looking for mischief. Soon the power core began to branch off, feeding field
generators clustered on groups of four about the core in chambers large enough
to serve as hangers for cargo shuttles. He began ducking into these chambers,
setting heat charges on vital control mechanisms. He doubted that he was doing
the Fortress any real damage, for there was too much redundancy for that
limited damage to have any serious effect. On the other hand, the results of
his handiwork should have the bridge in a frenzy.

 

Frenzy was a very good description of the state of affairs on the bridge.
Marenna Challenger began to report damage to her innermost drive units. Maeken
Kea pondered only long enough to establish exactly what was going on, then
began shouting orders as she ran to her own console on the central bridge.

“Tie me in with Commander Trace’s personal communicator!”
she ordered as she ran up the steps.

“Maeken?” Trace inquired even as she arrived at her station.
“Captain Kea, what is it? My sentries just took off at a run.”

“Follow them!” she shouted into the com. “Starwolves are
in the power core. I’ve relayed specific directions to your sentries, so
they will take you straight there.”

“Right!” Trace agreed simply. The destruction of a section of
the core might not affect the ship, since that power could be recircuited
through the outer power network. But it was better to take no chances. If the
Challenger was unable to shield herself, even the damaged Methryn could rip her
apart.

Then all the pieces of the puzzle fell into place with shocking suddenness,
instantly and unbidden. Momentarily stunned by that revelation, Maeken sat down
heavily in her seat to review the facts she knew. Nothing was certain, and she
still did not know the full truth. But she was so sure that she was willing to
gamble the success of the entire battle on it.

“Marenna Challenger!” she ordered sharply, leaping from her
chair. “Reduce speed gradually to a full stop. Do you understand me?
Ready all guns and stand by to shield engines.”

“I understand,” the ship responded. “Beginning
deceleration now. All offensive and defensive systems standing by.”

 

Not even Velmeran was aware for some time that the Fortress was slowing. The
sudden shift of power from the rear engines to an equal number of forward
engines running at the same level went unnoticed. His first hint came when he
suddenly realized that the Methryn’s own sustained, high-pitched pulse
was almost on top of them. In the next instant the Challenger braked hard
before executing a quick end-over pivot to face back the way she had come.

Tregloran, do you hear me?
he called out with all his telepathic
skills.

Yes, Captain.
Tregloran’s reply was distant but clear.

Warn Valthyrra! I cannot yet reach her.

I am already on my way!
the younger pilot replied, for he had already
figured out what was happening for himself. Unfortunately, he needed the more
powerful com inside the fighter to call above the static inside the ring.

But it was already too late. Valthyrra Methryn had been skirting one of the
larger moonlets, five kilometers across and large enough to have been rounded
under its own gravity. When Tregloran’s warning came, she began braking
hard to stop. Suddenly the Challenger was there before her, emerging black and threatening
behind the satellite. She opened fire on the smaller ship with every gun she
could bring to bear. From a hundred kilometers, only four times her own length,
she could not miss.

And from that distance the Methryn’s shields had little effect against
those powerful bolts. A hail of brilliant shafts of energy slammed against her
shields, and she could not turn them all. One and sometimes two scored every
second, cutting deep into her hull and discharging with tremendous explosions.
The entire ship rocked violently under the unrelenting impacts.

“They are trying for the bridge!” Valthyrra shouted above the
confusion as she readied herself for the flight. With her own pack members
clinging to the hull of the Fortress, she could not fight back. It would have
been foolish, futile effort anyway.

Mayelna glanced at her impatiently. “They seem to have a damned good
idea where it is.”

A single bolt tore screaming with raw energy through the ceiling above the
bridge, cutting through the heavy plating barely a meter behind the main
viewscreen and striking at the front of the upper bridge, slicing through the
front of the Commander’s console and into the deck below. It discharged
into the structural supports on the next level, and the force of the blast
traveled upward, ripping out most of the upper bridge. Cargin, at the weapons
station, was pitched from his seat and landed unharmed on the forward console
to the right of the navigator’s station. Mayelna was thrown against the
ceiling with such force that her armor snapped as easily as the bones within.
She fell amid the wreckage of plating and her own console in the center of the
bridge.

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