“How did it get here so quickly?”
“I have three theories about that,” — Valthyrra offered. “It might have been built to handle routine accelerations of two or three thousand G’s, or else it might employ some type of drive that either negates or avoids ail energy of acceleration. Or it might have become aware of the drives from that unshielded drone the moment it left my bay, and has been under way to this location for some time.”
“Warn the crew to prepare for immediate battle,” Gelrayen told her. “Have damage control parties standing by throughout the ship. Surveillance?”
“Impulse scanners and passive receivers standing by.” “Weapons?”
“All power is diverted to the main battery,” the weapons officer on the middle bridge responded. “Conversion cannon is at pre-stage warming.”
“Helm?”
“Manual controls are at stand-by status,” Kayendel reported. “Captain Tarrel?” he asked, glancing toward the upper bridge.
“I’m counting all the ways that things can go wrong,” she answered as she tightened the straps. “Standing by to pass out.” “Your confidence is reassuring. Valthyrra, do you have visual contact of any form?”
She responded by sending a highly magnifiedf image to the main viewscreen, although the only thing it showed was a light shower of minute sparks as the Dreadnought’s shield reacted with ionized particles charged by the gas giant’s magnetic field. But at least they had direct visual evidence of its presence, and not just in that discharge of sparks. The Dreadnought itself, or rather the light-absorbing cloak of its powerful shield, appeared as a vast black shape passing before the stars. It was a curiously frightening vision, for Captain Tarrel even more so than those times when she had not been able to see it at all, like the shadow of a ghost.
“The Dreadnought is at closest approach,” Valthyrra reported. Even she spoke softly, as if fearful of being overheard. “No scanner contact yet, so I assume that it is not aware of my presence. Stand ready.”
“Whenever you think best,” Gelrayen told her.
Valthyrra moved out of her hiding place on the moonlet, rushing forward with a quiet, steady acceleration from her main drives. At these distances, relatively small increases in speed covered a great deal of distance in a hurry. The carrier moved in a sweeping, graceful glide, actually meant to minimize her reliance upon field drive for navigation.
“I will probably have only the one chance, so I should make the most of it,” she reported. “I am going to throw as much power as I can into a forward impulse sweep.”
Being in the shadow of the planet was a mixed blessing. It was essential to her decoy and it allowed her to see the fairly small flashes of discharge against the Dreadnought’s shield. On the illuminated side of the planet, she would have been able to track the Dreadnought with far greater accuracy as its black shadow passed over the bright bands of the gas giant. At least she could locate it easily enough by the discharge flashes of its shield. She had not warned the others that she had actually not been completely certain that there would be any visible static discharge, knowing that it might have been absorbed into that light-eating shield.
She dropped in quickly behind the Dreadnought, then moved cautiously forward until she followed at only fifteen kilometers, five times her length and only slightly more than its own. As far as she knew, this was as close as anyone had ever come to the Dreadnought. Even at this range, all she could see was a featureless black shape passing before the stars. One portion of her multi-layered mind was aware that at some point in the next minute or two, that vast machine was going to turn and begin ripping her apart. She was new, still bright and shiny, and she did not want to submit herself to the damage she expected to take. But the rest of her mind was very much on business, aware that her time was very limited. She aimed every impulse cannon that could be brought to bear and fired, standing ready with her primary attention to the scanner receivers, her main drives and defensive systems, and a very close electronic eye she kept on the Dreadnought’s response.
“I have the results of my first close-range impulse scan,” Valthyrra said. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I cannot see through that shield. I would have to be able to match frequencies to get a scanner beam through, and I cannot do that at random.”
“Well, we expected that,” Gelrayen remarked, then looked up. “Hold on. Are we running like hell?”
“No, the stupid thing still has no idea that I am here. I wonder if it really is blind to the rear. It seems like such a waste, sitting here right on the monster’s tail and not able to do anything about it.”
“We could try shooting it, I suppose,” Gelrayen mused. “What would happen if we gave it our conversion cannon at this range?”
“It would probably do it no more harm than when the Kerridayen shot it at somewhat longer range, considering that shield,” the ship replied. “But the backwash would, however, fry us.” “Yes, I had forgotten about that. Stupid idea.”
“I thought Starwolves like stupid ideas,” Tarrel called from the upper bridge.
Gelrayen glanced in her direction. “We have to draw the line somewhere.”
“Would anyone want to listen to a good idea?” Kayendel asked. “Since we seem to have the time, what about keeping an impulse beam on that shield and changing frequencies rapidly until you have a match?”
“That might just work, if I can find that frequency before the Dreadnought turns around and kicks me in the nose,” Valthyrra agreed. “Even if I get through that shield, I will probably only get a moment at best. . Hold on.”
“Trouble?” Gelrayen asked, noticing that the Methryn still had not run.
“Someone is shooting at the Dreadnought, and it is not me.” Actually, it was not particularly hard to figure out just what was going on. Her passive scanners did not detect the approach of any ship, just a series of high-power bolts just like those from her own forward battery. The shots were actually going somewhat wide. It was, of course, the Maeridan, but she was still too distant to target accurately on the visual reference of the black shape of the Dreadnought’s cloaking shield moving over the brightly colored bands of the gas giant. A hail of short-duration bolts was coming down at random over a radius of about twenty kilometers. Valthyrra was faced with the need to consider raising her own battle shields to protect herself from her own sister ship. Like the Maeridan, she had her own outer shields at stealth intensity, so that the other carrier would have been able to locate her only by visual identification, and her dull black hull was designed to defeat that. Considering how relatively tiny she was compared to the Dreadnought, she could easily be overlooked.
“What the hell does Khallenda Maeridan think that she is doing?” Valthyrra asked herself. “She was supposed to keep herself hidden unless I found myself in serious trouble.”
“She probably thinks that you are,” Kayendel reminded her. “I suspect that you must have set that drone to broadcast a Starwolf distress code. Your own, no doubt.”
Valthyrra rotated her camera pod to look at the ceiling. “Damn my hull! Of course. I forgot that she was sitting out there waiting, and I did not think to warn her to ignore that distress code. She is trying to rescue me, and that drone led her right here.” “None of us thought of that,” Gelrayen told her. “Do not blame yourself.”
“I have just received scanner return,” Valthyrra reported, returning to business. “The Dreadnought has just taken the Maeridan’s range by scan. I do not believe that it is aware of me, since I detected no direct scanner pulses aimed in my direction.”
“If you try to warn the Maeridan, you will give away your own position,” Gelrayen warned her. “Do you want to try backing away from that monstrosity first?”