Tactical Error (22 page)

“Bill was able to get these figures for us,” Lenna said as she
began spreading papers across the table in the training room. “The Union
has all sixteen of their Mock Starwolf carriers in operation. Each carrier has
the capabilities of carrying 1,000 fighters. At the moment, of course, they
have only about 200 pilots to each ship, making a total of some 3,350 pilots.
The Starwolves, of course, have some 5,000 trained pilots, so you are ahead of
them there. Now the Union refers to their Mock Starwolf carriers as Special
Assault Cruisers. The ships are about a third the size and weight of a ship
like the Methryn, about as heavily armed and armored. They are slower in
starflight, and of course they have no jump drives. But there are indications
that they are just a bit faster and more maneuverable than your carriers. They
don’t have conversion cannons, but they do carry a much larger array of
conventional, nuclear, and conversion warheads in starflight-capable
missiles.”

“I suppose that they have no sentient computer control,”
Velmeran dared to ask, wondering just how many surprises he was in for this
day.

“They have the same semi-sentient computer complexes used in the
Fortresses,” she answered. “Of course, the Mock Starwolves take
complete control over their ships during battle. The Mock Starwolves and their
carriers are designed to work, at least in major battles, as the perfect
complement to the Union’s Fortresses.”

“Where did Donalt Trace get Kelvessan of his own?” Venn Keflyn
asked.

“They all came from Commander Velmeran,” Lenna responded.

The Valtrytian twitched her ears with surprise, and turned to look at him.
“My, but you have been busy.”

“Well, more specifically, they all came from the genetic material
from that hand that Trace got from the Commander more than twenty years
ago,” Lenna explained. “Rather than just endlessly cloning perfect
replicas of Commander Velmeran, they decoded the genetic material to the best
of their abilities to clone new individuals with a relatively wide area of
genetic variations. There are more than ten thousand in all, about evenly male
and female, and no two are exactly alike.”

Velmeran frowned. “How very convenient for them.”

Lenna nodded. “To make matters even more interesting, while they might
be Mock Starwolves, they are real Kelvessan. They are beginning to successfully
reproduce among themselves, and they could just as easily reproduce with other
Kelvessan.”

Velmeran stood for a moment, staring at the diagrams of the Mock Starwolf
cruiser. He had to admit that the ship did have its virtues. It possessed all
of the advantages of the Starwolf Carriers, in a package more dedicated to the
role of fighting ship, patrol cruiser, and scout. Over a third of a
Carrier’s interior space was devoted to massive bays and cargo holds. By
deleting much of that empty space and by carrying a smaller and less
specialized fleet of support vessels, the cruisers were a third the size of a
Carrier, but with engines and generators that were only half as large. In
comparative scale, the Cruiser had the potential of being the faster, more
maneuverable, and more efficient fighting ship. At least it also possessed the
handicap of Union technology.

But just how much a threat were ten thousand Mock Starwolves in sixteen
Cruisers? He had fifty thousand Starwolves or more in twenty-three Carriers.
The answer, unfortunately, was hardly that simple. He might have twenty-three
superior ships, but they were spread over a vast area of space. If sixteen
Cruisers came all at once against a single Carrier, or even two or three, then
he did not doubt he would lose ships.

Life just became much more complicated, and it was up to him to find the
best possible answer in a hurry. What were his priorities? Did he call in
Starwolf Carriers from their patrols, where they were needed to protect the small,
independent worlds from Union expansion, so that they could hunt the false
Starwolves in powerful packs? He also needed those Carriers behind him when he
returned to Alkayja to force the resignation of the present government and save
the Kelvessan from slavery and extermination. And where were those Mock
Starwolves right now? Were they coming up behind the Methryn at that very
moment?

“What manner of control is Donalt Trace using against his
Starwolves?” he asked after a long moment.

“The most subtle and cunning,” Lenna answered, her voice hard
and angry. “I suppose that he never completely trusted his ability to
just order them around like machines, as much as he might have wanted. No, he
brought them up with a lifetime of instruction to believe that they are the
true Starwolves, created by the noble Union to finally destroy a band of
renegade genetic mutants released by a vile, alien enemy during an ancient war.
The only way to control Kelvessan, actually. You just encourage them to believe
that they are doing the right thing. Like Trace has done, you give them their
freedom and then ask them to help you. As a gesture of his supreme and
benevolent trust in them, his Mock Starwolves are answerable to no human
commanders short of the Defense Council, and no humans ever go on board their
ships. Autonomy of this nature does more than anything to encourage them to
believe that they are on the side of right.”

“Commander?” Venn Keflyn asked gently. She had been watching him
closely.

He looked up at her. “Your people created us, and then you set us
free. It worked once before. It could work again.”

“No, the situation is very different,” she assured him.
“Commander Trace must take many things for granted that we never did. He
has to contend with the truth that he must hide from them. How can he set them
free, yet hide the truth from them forever?”

Velmeran considered that, and after a moment he looked very surprised, even
stricken. “No, he cannot, can he? Why would he exchange one set of
Starwolves for another, unless he means to destroy both?”

“But what can he do about it now, once he has sent his own Starwolves
out on their own?” Lenna asked, understanding what he meant.

“Trace has to destroy his own Starwolves as soon as they have
completed the task they were created for,” Velmeran explained. “If
I were him, I would have those Cruisers rigged to explode by remote
detonation.”

“Commander?” Venn Keflyn prompted him softly, sensing his
growing concern and fear.

“He is here,” Velmeran said. “He has been here all along,
waiting for me to come to him.”

“Oh, yes. That is the part I was coming to,” Lenna exclaimed.

“I cannot say that he has necessarily been waiting,for you, but Donalt
Trace has been here all along. Ever since his Mock Starwolves took off, which
was only a matter of days before I arrived. That shadow of his, Maeken Kea,
took off for Kanis on the very night I arrived.”

Velmeran was still pulling on his helmet as he hurried back to the landing
bay, followed closely by Venn Keflyn and Lenna Makayen. This place had taken on
all the characteristics of a trap, perhaps for just himself or for the Methryn,
but quite possibly for them both. He would not feel better about it until he
had himself off this planet, and had his ship well away from this system. Then he
would have to decide what to do about his many problems, and in a hurry. But
for right now, he was sure of just one thing. Donalt Trace had been waiting for
him. That meant of course that Trace had intended for him to come.

“Everyone to your ships,” he ordered as soon as he had access to
his suits regular com link. “We will be getting out of here in a hurry.
Val?”

“Commander?” the ship’s distant voice responded.

“If you see any ships coming at you, you are to break orbit and make
your run into starflight as quickly as you can get there,” he ordered.
“It could very well be something that you cannot fight.”

“Of course, Commander,” Valthyrra agreed rather doubtfully.
Velmeran knew that hell itself would not chase her out of orbit until he was
back on board, but he did not have the time to argue with her.

“That would be a damned fine thing if, after eighteen centuries, this
old ship is destroyed by Starwolves,” Velmeran muttered furiously as he
climbed the retractable boarding steps and pulled himself into the cockpit,
strapping himself in as quickly as he could. “My friends, civilization as
we know it really is about to end. To make matters worse, Donalt Trace is here
waiting for us. We gain nothing by playing his game, so we are getting out of
here now.”

Velmeran sealed his canopy and brought the fighter up to operating power. He
had thought that he had trained Lenna Makayen better, that she was too
experienced to make such a simple mistake. For the entire time that she had
been here, she had known that Donalt Trace had been here as well, waiting. Had
she never asked herself what he had been waiting for?

He brought his fighter up and swung around slowly, retracting the landing
gear as he headed toward the entrance of the tram tunnels. The time had come to
move quickly, to find themselves an open bay and get clear of this base. If
Donalt Trace was going to dispute their departure, it would have to be now.
Following unspoken orders, Baress moved in close behind his commander and then
the more vulnerable transport took the middle position, protected from the rear
by Baressa and finally Venn Keflyn’s flying tank.

Velmeran turned into the tram tunnel and accelerated quickly, remembering
that it was several kilometers beneath the ridge back to the main portion of the
base. As his fighter shot down the half-lit passages of stone, his mind was
occupied with the same relentless question. Why was Trace still here? Why did
Trace expect to meet him here? And most importantly, why did Trace want to meet
him? Vengeance was one of Donalt Trace’s greatest concerns in life, he
did not doubt, yet that tall, strangely honorable man was driven primarily by
his will and need to succeed. He possessed some hate born of his contempt for
alien races, the Starwolves most of all, yet the man was not willfully evil.
Indeed, he believed almost fanatically in the rightness of his own cause, a
sentiment not completely shared by many of his own superiors. The motivations
in Trace’s life were simple enough to define. He had once been assigned the
task of fighting and defeating Starwolves by Councilor Jon Lake, one of the few
men that Donalt Trace had ever admired and a man now long dead. And the role of
righteous deliverer was one that Trace liked to wear.

Velmeran was coming to realize that, unless he was very careful in every
decision he made in the coming days, Donalt Trace might actually win their long
battle of force and cunning.

The tunnel began to make a series of regular turns, a warning that they had
returned to the main area of the base. Velmeran slowed, looking for a side
passage that would lead them to one of the freighter bays, and the way out. It
was then that he began to realize just how much trouble they were in already.
All of the side passages were closed by heavy metal doors, steering the
Starwolves through the endless circuit of the main tram passages. Donalt Trace
was aware of their presence, and he was not yet ready for them to leave.

“Commander, we are being followed,” Venn Keflyn warned suddenly.
“There are two large machines coming up slowly behind my ship, one on
each of the two tram tracks.”

“Those are probably security trams,” Lenna Makayen warned,
commandeering the transport’s communications. “They possess a pair
of very nasty cannons mounted in a turret over their cockpits.”

“I understand,” the Aldessan answered. “I am diverting all
of my ship’s available power to the rear hemisphere of my shields. That
should give us reasonable protection against anything they could mount on a
small mobile platform.”

“Can the rest of you manage a little more speed?” Velmeran
asked.

“We are doing quite well here,” Trel answered from the
transport.

“I can hold my own,” Venn Keflyn assured him.

“You tell me if we are going too fast for you,” Velmeran said as
he began pushing their speed up. “You have the largest ship.”

“And the slowest reflexes of the group,” she added.
“Besides, I am under very strict orders not to allow my ship, intact or
otherwise, to fall into Union hands. I have no choice, have I?”

The small group of ships steadily increased their speed, until they were
whipping around the wide turns of the tram tunnels. Soon they were pushing past
speeds of 250 or even 300 kilometers per hour, faster than even the best human
pilot could have taken a ship through such tight quarters. All the same,
Velmeran kept their speed somewhat less than he might have, mindful of Venn
Keflyn’s limitations.

However Venn Keflyn might have been holding up under the circumstances, the
security trams were doing even better. They had been built for high-speed runs
through the tunnels, although not so much for the chase as to get where they
were needed as quickly as possible. All of the larger tram engines and their
trailers were locked down to the magnetic tracks, and the security trams had
additional restraints to keep them on the tracks during highspeed turns. This
speed was certainly no problem for them. The security trams continued to close
until they were within a couple of hundred meters, close enough to get off
occasional shots during the longer straight runs. At least the corvette’s
powerful shields were able to shed the bolts like the shell of a tortoise.
“Venn Keflyn?” Velmeran asked.

“No trouble,” she was quick to assure him. “But I was
wondering where we are going?”

“We are going nowhere,” he explained. “We are
thinking.”

“From my position, we are encouraged to think a little quicker.”

“Do you suppose that you might shoot them off the tracks?”

“We will think about that.”