Velmeran followed without waiting to be asked. The long fall was not so bad as he had anticipated, for it gave him time to prepare for his landing. Since he had the strength to kick open an airlock, he wisely allowed his legs to catch him. He landed almost gently, just slightly off-balanced by the top-heavy burden of his armor.
"Very good," Dveyella remarked. "That is about the most that you should ever try to jump under one real standard gravity. Remember that it is not how far you jump, but how hard you hit that limits you. Higher gravity decreases the height you can jump."
"What is the most I should be able to take?"
"Oh, you should be able to survive an impact speed of three hundred kilometers per-hour or more," she said, looking him over. "And by survive, I mean that you should be able to pick yourself up and continue on without pain. You can endure more, but it will hurt. We do have our limits, one of them being our suits. Do you know that we can actually take more stress than our armor? Well, what goes down must often come back up."
Dveyella indicated a docking tube about fifteen meters to Velmeran's left and thirty straight up. She jumped from where she stood. Her body rigid and her arms spread wide for balance, she seemed almost to be flying for the long moment that she was in the air. She caught hold of the edge of the tube and flipped herself atop in a graceful move. Velmeran, knowing that he lacked the experience for anything that elaborate, made a much simpler leap from almost directly below the tube. He overshot by nearly ten meters, but arched gently over to land in the very middle of the tube.
"Well, you made it on your first try," Dveyella remarked. "Most people need a little practice to be able to jump that far. You seem to have a natural talent for this."
"Talent has less to do with it than common sense," Velmeran answered as he peered over the edge. "The easiest way is always the surest."
"Words to live by," Dveyella agreed. "That is why I jumped at an angle, showing you one of my fanciest tricks from the start. Most people would have tried to do it the hard way, and they learn their limitations very quickly."
"I prefer to face my limitations from the cautious side. I like surprises as well as anyone, but a limitation becomes a failing when it catches you by surprise."
Dveyella laughed. "That is the lecture that I was supposed to be giving you. Is there anything you do not know?"
"I just indicated that there is," Velmeran said. "All this business is new to me. Is it very likely that we will have to fight?"
Dveyella shrugged and sat down on the machinery that joined the docking tube to the wall. "That depends upon how chance works for us. Sometimes everything goes as smoothly as you could want. Other times everything seems to go wrong. Usually it falls somewhere in between."
"What about my armor and my fighter?" he asked. "Will they be good enough for what I need?"
"I have already requested a new suit for both of us," Dveyella said, glancing down at the burnt scoring on her lower right arm that could only be bolt flash from a deflected hit. "There is really nothing better than ordinary flight armor, since anything sturdier would also be heavier. Our fighters are exactly the same, since we use the same auxiliary guns and other accessories as we need. Your fighter will be good enough, as long as she is in prime condition. How long have you had her?"
Velmeran shrugged. "As long as I have been flying."
Dveyella only sat and stared at him.
"She has never taken a hit or had a major breakdown in any component," he continued, somewhat defensively. "I consider her as good as the day she was built."
Dveyella could only assume that either the ship must be getting shabby or else he had not been using it all that long. She suspected the latter, and now she was sure of it. "Velmeran, how old are you?"
"Twenty-five."
"And you already lead a pack?"
"Because I am about the best pilot on this ship."
Dveyella laughed. "At least you believe in being straightforward about it!"
Velmeran only shrugged. "I have no false vanity. I cannot take credit for being what I was designed to be. My mother was the best pilot that this ship has seen for some time."
"And your father?" Dveyella asked.
He shrugged again. "Mayelna has never seen fit to enlighten me. But I do not doubt that my father was… worthy, considering how discriminating she can be. Do not worry about me. I know what I can do and what I cannot do."
Dveyella shook her head slowly. "I still cannot help but think that I have been flying twice as long as you have been alive. But Valthyrra Methryn does recommend you highly."
"Valthyrra Methryn seems to have plans for me," Velmeran remarked as he chose a sturdy connecting rod to sit on.
"Valthyrra obviously thinks a great deal of you, and I trust what the ships think. They have been around so long, and have seen so many people come and go, that they can tell," Dveyella said, keeping her real thoughts to herself. She wondered how much he really knew about the plans that Valthyrra had for him; somehow she suspected that he knew more about what was going on than anyone thought. This was the most interesting ship that she had been on in years. "And do not think that you would fly in my pack if I did not trust you."
"How did you come to lead a special tactics team?" Velmeran asked.
"By being as good as they say you are," she explained. "I was asked to fill a vacant place — just like you — and I was asked to stay. After fifty years I am now the senior member of the pack."
"They all died?"
Dveyella shook her head. "Some, but mostly they retire back to the regular packs. Marlena plans to go soon, so I might keep you if you do well enough, and if you want. Have you thought about it?"
Velmeran considered that a moment, and shook his head slowly. "No, I have not. I have a pack… I might not be the best leader, but I have a responsibility to my pack." But then he paused as a new thought occurred to him. "Maybe that is what Valthyrra has in mind for me, though."
"Why would you think that?"
"I have been a source of dissension lately," he explained. "After our last battle, part of the crew has come to look upon me as something of a hero, while others — a few others — only resent me. Valthyrra and the Commander have problems enough without me in the middle of it."
"I have been told something about pilots who refused to go out until they were certain that the trouble was real," Dveyella said. "Would it surprise you to hear that this is not the first time in recent months?"
"No, I suppose not."
"I also heard that you were indeed something of a hero…"
"According to Consherra!" Velmeran said accusingly.
"By Consherra, yes," she agreed reluctantly. "The pilots think otherwise?"
"My opportunity for heroism arose because I was out there alone, unsupported by pilots who did not want to trouble themselves until they were sure that they were needed," Velmeran explained hotly. "Two packs against a system fleet, and it was mostly over before the Methryn could get a single fighter out. Management is by no means prepared to allow them to forget it. You can surely see how that could cause resentment."
"Envy is the seed of resentment."
"Witticisms do not run the starship," Velmeran said. "This comes as a good opportunity to get rid of me gracefully. I can leave the hero, to a task more suited to my abilities."
"You think they want to be rid of you?" Dveyella asked in amazement. "The Commander is your own mother."
"And you might recall that she did not protest strongly," he reminded her. "Mayelna is a good Commander, but she works hard at it. She learned long ago the flaw in our standards of advancement, that being a good pilot does not necessarily make one a good leader."