Tactical Error (11 page)

When Keflyn followed Captain Addesin into the shuttle bay for the ride down,
she had immediate reservations – the two aging transports were even more
decrepit than the freighter herself, worn out from uncounted circuits into and
back out of planetary atmospheres. The shuttles were an ancient and simple
design, intended for slow, rough, atmospheric entries with low-powered shields
that allowed a great deal of heat to leak through, deflected by the
shuttle’s own ceramic composite hull. The low-powered design was slow and
awkward, but it allowed for more of the shuttle’s interior room to be
given over to cargo and less to massive generators.

Keflyn was even more alarmed when she entered the forward cabin of the first
shuttle to find Jon Addesin at the controls. She was not particularly
surprised; the
Thermopylae
was flying under a minimal crew, with just
about everyone taking multiple duties. Jon Addesin was not only captain but
helm and navigator, and it seemed that he fancied himself a pilot as well.

“Away we go!” Addesin declared as the shuttle fell away from its
cradle out the bottom of the bay. “Have you ever ridden in one of these
before?”

Keflyn shook her head. “I usually have more sense.”

The shuttles had no reverse-thrust engines, another weight-saving
peculiarity of these machines. Addesin simply rotated the ship over on its back
and engaged the main engines enough to brake their speed before rotating back
to a nose-first position, letting gravity draw the shuttle down toward the
planet. After a while the shields began to burn against the outer edges of the
atmosphere, and from that point they were going down in a hurry.

Keflyn had never before ridden a ship down from orbit to landing entirely by
gliding unpowered. The main thing that impressed her was how long it took,
nearly an hour-and-a-half after leaving the
Thermopylae’s
bay, a
leisurely trip of about fifteen minutes in her own fighter. Unlike most
transports, which would stay at speeds of two thousand kilometers or more
except at landing and take-offs, this lazy shuttle spent nearly half of its
glide down drifting at subsonic speeds.

It did give her time for a good, long look at the Feldenneh colony. It was
located well inland in the north of the smaller continental area, at the
eastern base of the mid-continental range of mountains. Like Kanis, this was a
heavily forested world, the inherent imbalance of the cold continental and
polar areas and the warm equatorial seas driving a weather system that
distributed a fairly even amount of precipitation year-round over almost the
entire land areas. Keflyn had her closest look at the continental glaciers
while they were still very far up, several hundred kilometers away.

The colony itself was not that large, it’s single impressive feature
being the three-kilometer runway for the shuttles. Some distance away, tucked
back under the edges of the forest, was the colony itself, some five dozen
simple wooden houses and a few larger buildings. The Feldenneh were not
farmers, their diet limited to nuts, bread, and meat, and they certainly had
not come to this world to farm.

It occurred to Keflyn then that Jon Addesin was looping the shuttle around
to align it with the runway, and that he intended to bring the little ship down
in a rolling stop. She realized for the first time that this aging shuttle had
not even been designed for field drive vertical landings. She had never made a
rolling landing before. For that matter, she had never even been in a ship that
had wheels, much less used them.

Fortunately the shuttle had been designed with large wheels and rugged
landing gear for high-speed landings on unimproved runways. Addesin rotated the
wings forward and dropped the flaps, and the ship shook and rattled as it
protested the slower speeds. Moments later it bumped hard against the runway,
and Keflyn was certain that the landing gear must have collapsed to leave the
shuttle sliding in on its belly, the ship shook and vibrated so violently. She
was contemplating abandoning ship when the machine suddenly lurched almost to a
complete stop and rolled off the runway onto the cramped parking apron.

“There, that was something of an adventure even for a Starwolf,
I’ll bet,” Addesin remarked happily as he began shutting down the
little ship.

“Flying a Starwolf fighter is an adventure,” Keflyn remarked as
she removed her belts, intent upon finding an open outer door. “That was
a very inefficient attempt at self-destruction.”

“Inefficient?” Addesin was too surprised to be annoyed.

“We are still alive.” She stared at him. “I cannot imagine
that space flight was ever that primitive.”

The nose of the shuttle split vertically just under the cockpit and opened
to either side, and a ramp rolled down. By the time Keflyn reached the cargo
deck, a cool, fresh breeze was stirring through the wide hatch. She stepped out
onto the ramp, looking across a long, narrow meadow of deep, dense grass
surrounded by forests and low mountains. It was a perfect day. The sun was
bright but not hot or intense, and a gentle wind stirred through the grass in
green waves.

A flatbed land transport, loaded with crates ready for shipment, rolled
along the road from the settlement to the base of the ramp, and a pair of male
Feldenneh stepped out of its front cabin. Vaguely wolf-like in appearance, with
slender, thickly-furred bodies and long, narrow heads, they were both nearly a
head taller than Keflyn, no doubt chosen for their tasks as loaders because of
their considerable size for their kind. They were about to board the ramp when
they saw her standing at the top and stopped short, staring. Nothing betrayed
the Starwolves more for what they were than their second set of arms. Keflyn
was dressed in a conventional manner for a Kelvessan civilian, in burgundy
pants and tunic with a black vest, all of heavy material, but with no cape to
hide her lower arms.

The smaller of the two relatively husky Feldenneh seemed to consider the
meaning of this unexpected appearance of a Starwolf for a moment, then stepped
quickly up the ramp to meet her. It had never occurred to Keflyn to wonder if
Jon Addesin would have warned the Feldenneh what he was bringing them. It
seemed that he had not.

“I am Derrighan, shipping master,” he introduced himself simply,
his voice the soft, rich purr of his kind. “How may the people of
Denneshyann serve you, warrior?”

“I am Keflyn of the Methryn,” she answered, a little
disconcerted by his intent and slightly bewildered stare. “I have been
sent to seek the answers to a very ancient riddle. We believe that this may
have once been a major world of the Republic.”

“You will have to ask our Speaker, Kalmedhae, for any answers to your
questions that we may have,” Derrighan said guardedly, “but I think
that you will not be disappointed.”

Keflyn helped to unload the shuttles, since she could lift so much more than
anyone else, before she rode the last transport into the settlement. She
thought that she should do these people a favor or two before she came asking
for handouts and hospitality... not that the congenial Feldenneh where
likely to refuse her. More than anything, she was busy reviewing her strategy,
because nothing in the greater universe outside the Methryn’s hull had
gone at all the way she had expected.

She had been watching her father’s techniques for years, and that had
let her down from the start. Velmeran’s method of operation had always
been quite simple; everyone he had ever met had been frightened to death of
him. His reputation alone made his enemies afraid to cross him, while he would
approach a would-be friend with that spontaneous innocence and understanding of
his and win loyal supporters. That system adamantly refused to work for Keflyn.
The Feldenneh found her cute and charming, and perhaps even a little lost. Jon
Addesin fancied himself in love. The Feldennye shipping master Derrighan was in
love, and too polite to let on. But no one was in the least bit frightened
except Keflyn herself, who needed a bit more cooperation and a few less alien
admirers.

Her meeting with Kalmedhae was to take place that night over dinner in the
Speaker’s own house. Kalmedhae was an older Feldenneh who served the
colony as Speaker, as far as Keflyn understood a combination of mayor, judge,
and social councilor. Aside from Kalmedhae’s own household, the other
guests at dinner were Jon Addesin and the shipping master Derrighan. She could
imagine why Derrighan had wrangled himself an invitation to dinner; he stayed
close to Keflyn’s side to insure his place beside her at the table.
Addesin was, at least at first, too annoyed to notice that he had competition.
He was forever trying to raise extra money for his ship by selling goods on
speculation to the colonists he supplied. Because of a mistake in labeling the
shipping crates, something he had bought to sell to the fur-bearing Feldenneh
had turned out to be five thousand bottles of suntan lotion.

So there Keflyn sat, trapped at the table between her pair of strange
suitors, knowing that there might be trouble as soon as Jon Addesin recovered
from his mood of annoyance enough to notice. Keflyn entertained some hope that
Addesin might never know. Despite his occasional obvious and very
self-conscious attempts at acting the part of the daring young pirate captain,
he was too absorbed in nursing his shaky business and ailing ship to be aware
of anything that did not present itself as a profitable venture. The possible romance
of a Starwolf and a Feldenneh would not interest him beyond its threat to his
own plans... unless he could figure out some way to sell tickets.

Leave them both alone,
Keflyn told herself.
You will soon be going
back to your own ship and your own kind. One is furry, and the other is
descended of baboons. Why would you want to become involved with either one?

It would be different?

She told Kalmedhae everything about her mission that she had been willing to
tell Addesin, not daring to allow even the Feldenneh to know the greater scope
of her search. The Feldenneh gave their wholehearted support to the Starwolves,
who protected them from slavery under Union control. At the same time, they
were a part of the Union and often found themselves forced to fill the roles of
non-combat technicians in the Union military, and they seemed to feel that that
did not compromise their loyalty. Unlike Addesin, however, Kalmedhae was
honestly interested in her quest, and shrewd enough to realize its
implications.

“This was once Republic space,” he observed, watching her
closely with his large, solid black eyes. “Do the Starwolves consider
that it still is?”

“That depends upon the level of ownership you wish to define,”
Keflyn answered carefully. She was well aware of all the members of
Kalmedhae’s household seated about the table, watching her expectantly.
“At this time, the only people living on this world are your own. If your
loyalties are to the Union, then the Starwolves will respect that. If you wish
to sever your ties to the Union and be independent, then the Starwolves will
defend your decision to do so. If you wish to open this world for Republic
expansion, we would be grateful.”

Kalmedhae considered that carefully. “What would the Republic find of
interest in this world?”

“Essentially nothing,” she admitted freely. “The export of
wood or other materials, or your own products. But the Kelvessan, my own
people, would find it very interesting. This is one of the few worlds cool
enough for us to live comfortably. Our metabolisms are so high-powered that
they produce excessive heat, and we must be artificially cooled to tolerate
human environments. Here, we can live very comfortably.”

She glanced at Jon Addesin, who was wearing a lined jacket even indoors. He
did not notice, still distracted with thoughts of suntan lotion.

Kalmedhae considered that, arid nodded. “That is well. Kelvessan would
make very good neighbors. I had not known that there were those of your kind
who do not lead the lives of Starwolves.”

She shook her head. “There are now several million Kelvessan, but only
a few thousand Starwolves.”

“There are secrets in this world that you should see,” the older
Feldenneh announced suddenly, as if coming to some important decision.
“But it has a price. The Union must not know these things. Once the
Starwolves know the secrets of this world, then they will have the
responsibility of defending those secrets. You will agree, when you see for
yourself and understand.”

“You have had that promise already,” Keflyn assured him.
“What are those secrets?”

“Perhaps it would be better for you to see those things for
yourself.”

Jon Addesin looked up suddenly, like a startled animal. He apparentiy had
not been in a world completely of his own. “Ah, I’ll be bringing
down the
Thermopylae’s
skyvan, as soon as we get our load on
board. I know that your colony has nothing suitable for long, quick
trips.”

“Yes, that is so,” Kalmedhae agreed, and Derrighan’s look
of quiet dismay supported that. But the older Feldenneh still had a trick to play
for his own side. Although Feldenneh did not smile, he still looked enormously
pleased, like a chess player who had just moved his opponent into an unexpected
check. “Well, the day grows old, and night is upon us. Derrighan, perhaps
you could find a place where your new friend can stay the night.”

“Kelvessan do not sleep,” Keflyn answered guardedly, watching
the two Feldenneh closely. “Of course, I must have someplace where I can
stay.”

Derrighan’s ears were standing straight up with anticipation. “I
live alone. I came to this world in advance of other members of my household,
who have not yet come.”

“You’ll not be going back up to the ship with me?” Addesin
asked, looking panic-stricken. He knew that she planned to stay, since she had
brought all of her bags down on the shuttle with her.