Captain Tarrel’s response to this problem was as clever and effective as circumstances allowed. She made the best determination she could about just where in the Sector Starwolves were most likely to be found. Carthaginian was taken into that region at the battleship’s best speed, and they began issuing an achronic message that Lt. Commander Pesca had assembled, the best he could manage for the purpose of attracting Starwolf attention in a constructive as opposed to a destructive manner. This matter required many hasty explanations on Tarrel’s own part, since System and Fleet Commanders they encountered along the way were not sympathetic to a Union battleship advertising for the chance to talk with Starwolves. It had even gotten them fired upon in one rather remote and provincial system, but the diplomatic pass issued by Sector Commander Lake himself settled all other arguments. Especially since refusal to recognize that pass could be considered an act of treason.
A full week of searching brought them their first positive lead. Not only had a Starwolf carrier passed through one independent system only three days earlier, it had stopped for planet leave and had left only a few short hours before. Independents were not as a rule willing to help the Union, but a single battleship trying to attract the attention of Starwolves was such a novelty that they were willing to help. As they obviously saw it, if a Union battleship wanted to find trouble, who were they to interfere? Unfortunately, they did not know where the Starwolves had gone next.
Tarrel retreated with Chagin to the reference terminal on one corner of the bridge, for a hasty consultation with the local star charts. Pesca invited himself to join them, on the assumption that his wisdom and experience would be useful.
“The obvious choice is this one,” Chagin said after studying the map for a moment. ‘/Two days out for us, but twelve light-years closer than the second nearest system to this one. The third choice in about sixty light-years or so and not a very obvious jump.”
“You don’t seem to trust the obvious choice,” Tarrel pointed out.
Chagin frowned. “Because it is obvious. Anyone looking for them would go there first. ”
“Do they have any reason to think that anyone would be following them?” she asked.
“No, certainly not.”
“And is anyone who might be following them likely to cut in ahead of them and prepare an ambush?”
“I concede the point,” Chagin agreed. “But that’s exactly the problem. We’re behind them now. They just had a leave, so they’re not likely to stop anywhere for long any time soon. Can we overtake them now?”
“No, of course not,” Tarrel agreed. “That’s why we have to anticipate their move three jumps ahead and intercept them here.”
The first officer looked at the place she indicated on the chart. “Yes, their steps from this next one are fairly limited. Unless they suddenly turn well out of their way, they will go here and then here.”
“While we can cut directly across at top speed and intercept them in only five days.”
“Can we do it?” he asked.
“We have to. I can’t anticipate their move after that, not with three very likely choices,” Tarrel said, then dropped her voice. “From this time on, I want one of us on the bridge at all times. Those first seconds after encountering a Starwolf carrier are ticklish ones. Under no circumstances can we allow something to slip, or they’ll scorch us.”
“Anything I can do, Captain?” Pesca asked.
“Just stay out of my chair, Wally.”
That encounter was not at all likely to happen until they reached the system in question, unless the Starwolves did intercept their achronic message and pull Carthaginian out of starflight. Captain Tarrel counted the days, and she found herself half wishing that they would not find the carrier. If she did not find the Starwolves after a certain amount of time, she intended to take her ship back to Vinthra and turn the whole matter over to Commander Lake. He could wait for Starwolves to come into system in their own good time and then issue them a polite invitation to parlay.
They dropped out of starflight farther into the system than anticipated, a common variance — either too far in or out— after a long run at very high speed. Carthaginian engaged her forward main drives and decelerated rapidly, settling into a slow prowl as she began a continuous series of active scanner sweeps and transmitted her message. Starwolves were notoriously spooky and Captain Tarrel wanted to give them plenty of time to get used to the thought of being hailed by a Union battleship. She had no way of knowing just how far the carrier could be behind them, if at all.
“Minimum local traffic,’* the surveillance officer reported before he was asked. “Nothing unexpected.”
“The System Commander is calling,” communications added. “They have heard our transmission and request an explanation. No one sounds particularly upset about it, however.”
“Invoke our diplomatic pass,” Tarrel said. “Ask them to keep the local chatter and scanner sweeps to a minimum. No need to be pompous as long as the locals are willing to help. Our survivors might need to be rescued later on.”
Her humor was appreciated by all but Lt. Commander Pesca, who was pale.
As it happened, she had almost guessed wrong. The Starwolves were there before her. The carrier appeared suddenly on scan almost directly behind them, passing swiftly over the Carthaginian before matching speed barely twice her own great length ahead of the battleship, clearly visible now on the main bridge viewscreen. Then she rotated slowly, until she was facing them, a vast black hull vaguely in the shape of an arrowhead, her short, slightly downs wept wings protecting her main drives. Her color was an unreflective black, difficult enough to see against space, even at close range. There were no windows to betray her presence with their glow, although she did have her recognition lights burning as a courtesy. That was actually encouraging.
If there was trouble, Tarrel decided that the Starwolves could not have been more obliging in stationing their immense carrier directly in front of her missile racks. She doubted that those missiles could do the great ship any harm, but they might provide enough distraction to get her own ship to the vague safety of starflight.
“Message coming in,” communications reported. “No visual.”
“I’ll take it at my station,” Tarrel said.
“I should take it,” Pesca offered in his excitement. “I am the linguist.”
“You’re also an asshole, and neither attribute qualifies you for this,” she snapped, then addressed the communication unit at her station. “This is Captain Tarrel of the battleship Carthaginian. We wish to parlay on an urgent matter.”
“This is Trendaessa Kerridayen,” the response came, a strong female voice. “Just what seems to be the problem?”
Tarrel was surprised at that lack of concern. It made her wonder if the Starwolves found her battleship at all threatening. “Some large ship is moving through our systems, destroying every ship and station it finds. The situation is very alarming to us.”
“So?”
No sympathy there. “So, we were wondering if the Starwolves were behind this, or if we have an alien threat to deal with.” “No. It is not Starwolves.”
Tarrel was grateful that this was not a visual link, since she could not stop herself from making faces. “I have encountered this machine on three separate occasions. My opinion is that this is an automated weapon designed to seek out and destroy all power sources it encounters in space. It is also my opinion that a single Starwolf carrier could not fight it.”