“Only the top three,” Velmeran insisted. “At last count, we have more than 70 Senators who voted this mess into existence in prison, and some 200 corporate executives who funded the takeover and were waiting in line to buy trade monopolies and Kelvessan slaves. It was as bad as anything in the Union. We will let them sit in jail without bail for a few days, then put most of them on lifetime probation, on the condition that they can never again hold public office. The funny thing about this whole affair is that absolutely no member of the human population ever cast a vote to put these people in office or approved of what they were doing. Everyone was on to these criminals from the start, but what can you do?”
“Not a one? My, my!” Tregloran took his meaning with amusement. “What about President Delike and his little friends?”
“All hiding out in the government complex on board the station,” Velmeran explained. “They do not dare go back down to the planet, as much as they would like to collect their private data files and financial records. I had wondered if they would run for cover while they had a chance, but they seem determined to sit tight. My guess is that they hope we lose the battle, and they will kindly offer their services to the conquerors as puppet rulers.”
“We could still get another ship in before things start,” Tregloran mused. “Then we might see them run in a hurry.”
“How is Theralda Vardon? Will this be her first real fight?”
“Well, she is more consistently lucid than she used to be.”
“Lucid?”
“Well, yes.” After looking for a gentler term to describe his ship’s behavior, he decided that he was being generous enough already. “You know that she was put together with only one memory cell. Sometimes I think that even the one was shaken too hard when we stole it. There used to be days when she would just hang there in the middle of the bridge, relaying information like a damned machine. She is developing a higher degree of spontaneity.”
“I just hope that she remembers how to fight.”
Tregloran smiled fondly. “It seems like old times, fighting with the odds against us.”
Velmeran stared at him. “This is the first time in my life that I’ve ever considered the odds against me.”
Tregloran’s face fell. “Oh.”
The final hours passed slowly in a frenzy of hurried preparations. At almost the very last moment, a final Starwolf carrier, the Karvand under the command of Velmeran’s half-sister Daelyn, hurtled into system and dropped out of starflight almost on top of the station. The ship was already launching her packs, ready to move immediately into battle. Gelvessa Karvand explained, once the initial chaos was past, that she expected them to come under attack at any moment. Decelerating out of starflight, she had scanned an indisputable total of ten Fortresses and a number of other ships that she thought to be stingship carriers all arranging themselves in what appeared to be attack formation.
The Fortresses presented their own problems. The Starwolves could crack the heavy hull-shielding from the giant ships with their quartzite detonator missiles, but it still took the shot from a conversion cannon to destroy the Fortress. The Methryn and the Karvand both had only the one cannon and the newer ships had two, making a total of only six, and the cannons had a tendency to burn themselves out after only one firing. He could only hope that the cannons of the newer ships did not burn out. There was also the matter of the sixteen Mock Starwolf cruiser, which were fairly massive piles of armor in their own right. He now had over 700 fighters, and the most powerful accessory cannons had been fitted to those small ships.
Velmeran decided it was time to launch the carriers. The worst possible disaster on his own part would be to allow his carriers to be caught in their bays if the Mock Starwolves moved in suddenly. If time allowed, he was tempted to lead some of the carriers on a sudden strike against the Union attack force before it had time to get itself into motion. He was also afraid that they might be waiting to draw him out, divide his forces, and then hit him from behind. Donalt Trace had spent the last twenty years figuring out endless ways to trick him.
Now he had to face the hardest part yet. He had to go back to the Methryn and order Valthyrra disconnected from her backup cells and send her out to die. What Tregloran had said about Theralda Vardon had left him even more uneasy about this. He had already been worried about making certain that he had captured enough of Valthyrra’s memories to return her to life. Was there something more that he needed, perhaps that soul that Valthyrra was always so concerned about? Where does a starship keep her soul?
He had made no provisions to protect that part of Valthyrra Methryn that mattered the most to her, and she had not held him accountable for that. Perhaps she did not trust even the psychic abilities of the High Kelvessan to give her what she wanted most. Perhaps she was just doing what duty required of her, taking solace in the thought that eighteen thousand years was long enough for anyone to live.
“Standing by to disconnect,” Consherra said over the com link in their suits. They were already dressed for battle, knowing that they would have to move quickly. This was quite literally their final task before battle. She was standing by at Valthyrra’s primary cell, while technicians were ready to disconnect the others.
“Not until I give the order,” he answered. “Then you go straight to the Maeridyen. Let the technicians remove the duplicate memory units.”
The lift pulled to a stop and Velmeran stepped out onto the bridge, only too aware that this might well be the last time he would see this place. Even the seats at all of the various stations had been stripped in a gallant effort to reduce the Methryn’s weight and give her a fighting advantage in maneuverability. The carpets in the cabins had been pulled as well, and she now weighed three-and-a-half million tons less than when she had entered this bay.
Valthyrra’s camera pod was rotated well around, watching him in silence. The note that he had attached to the side of the boom was still there, ordering the crews that this was to be left. If Valthyrra did have a soul, then this simple piece of machinery was its focus.
“We both knew that I would have to leave this ship eventually,” she said, breaking the silence. “Three kilometers of starship is not the sort of thing that you can keep around for sentiment. I would rather see this old shell burn away in battle than be carved up for scrap. A person’s life should come to more than just scrap.”
“There is no reason for you to assume that you will be destroyed,” he told her. “We stand or fall together in this, and the odds tell me that none of us will be here when it ends. If anything, I have given you two chances to survive.”
“I am not concerned for that part of myself,” Valthyrra insisted. “No matter what happens to me, whether you succeed or fail in bringing me back, or even if you never have the chance, I have no regrets. Not for myself.”
Velmeran smiled. “No regrets, perhaps. But it does not stop you from feeling afraid and alone.”
Valthyrra dropped her camera pod lower. “I find that I have an instinct to stay alive, and there is precious little in the universe that can threaten you when you are this big and powerful. I find that I am by no means used to being afraid for my life. But what is my life? Those large metal boxes full of data that you are packing out of here? I like to think that my life means more than just information and programmed responses, but I never did find my soul. I have always been afraid to look. It was safer — less frightening — to hope that I do have one, than to discover that I do not.”