Lenna smiled mischievously. “I already knew that you would be needing me.”
“And I knew when I called you here that you were planning to go,” Velmeran added. “So this is where we stand. Baress, Consherra, and I will go inside the fortress to do the program tampering. Lenna will go along to do whatever she can. I have been looking at Schayressa’s scan, so I know where we can enter. It involves a walk — in straight-line distances — of just over five kilometers. Since our direct communication will be cut off, we had better make arrangements now. As soon as we go in, Valthyrra will allow the Challenger to pass and fall in some distance behind. We can use transports in formation to clear a corridor that resembles her own. At our signal she will close for the attack, forcing the Challenger out of the ring and into open space.”
“And just how do I force her out?” Valthyrra asked.
“She is going to go willingly,” he assured her. “When she sees an undamaged Methryn coming at her from behind, she is going to run to open space where she can fight more effectively.”
The camera pod nodded thoughtfully. “You are probably right. But how do you land seven fighters on her hull undetected?”
“In a mass of general confusion. To put it simply, we need a diversion.”
“Oh? What kind of a diversion?”
“Oh, I had something in mind,” Velmeran said as he leaned back in his chair. “If nothing else works, we can always throw rocks.”
“Are you sure that you feel up to it?” Velmeran asked, pausing at the door as he followed the others out. Valthyrra regarded him quizzically. “Do I feel up to it?”
“Well, you are getting a little old.”
“Old?” She lifted her camera pod threateningly. “I, for one, do not consider eighteen thousand to be old at all, not compared to how long I expect to last. Nor do I believe that Donalt Trace or any other two-armed primate can build a better machine than I am, and I intend to prove it.”
“Just checking,” Velmeran said, and disappeared out the door.
“I like that!” Valthyrra remarked to herself as she stared for a moment, then turned to Mayelna. “Surely he has no complaint about my performance.”
Mayelna stared in disbelief. “Are you serious? He was just playing with you. When were you ever not ready for a fight?”
“I guess so,” she agreed weakly, then turned to Consherra. “And what of yourself? What could possibly possess you to insist upon going?”
“As I recall, you and Velmeran did all the insisting,” Consherra replied defensively. “Then, once you convinced me of the necessity, you abruptly changed your minds.”
“I had momentarily forgotten one important matter,” the ship reminded her. “As you seem to have forgotten altogether. How can you possibly go? Can you still fit inside your armor?”
Consherra glanced apprehensively at Mayelna, and could tell by the Commander’s expression that she was well aware of what the ship was implying. She had the sudden urge to tamper with Valthyrra’s programming; this was embarrassing enough as it was.
“Yes, I can still fit inside my armor,” she insisted, turning back to the glaring camera pod. “I am still just a month along, with five months yet to go. This is something I must do.”
“And what about the safety of your child?” Valthyrra countered.
“I am aware of the risk, and I accept it,” Consherra replied firmly. “You know that little short of my own death will do my child any harm.”
“Velmeran would not want you to take this risk.”
Consherra drew herself up sternly. “Velmeran is my mate and the father of my child. I know that he would not approve, but the decision remains my own. Baressa is pregnant by the same father, and yet not even he questions her right to take part in this. In fact, he left her in command of the packs in his absence.”
“Enough, Val,” Mayelna interrupted when the ship was prepared to protest yet again. “She is right on two important points. She is needed, and it is her decision. Nor is Velmeran to be told of… her condition. He has enough to think about just now, and that would be too much of a distraction.”
“Very well,” Valthyrra agreed reluctantly.
Consherra turned to Mayelna and smiled self-consciously. “I am sorry, Commander.”
“Sorry about what?” Mayelna demanded gently. “Dear girl, I can die happy now.”
“But, commander…”
“No, girl, stop worrying about it,” Mayelna said firmly. She began to rise but decided that she should not; this came as more of a surprise than she wanted anyone to know. “Listen, I know what this means to you, and I know how happy this is going to make him. That is all that really matters. If my approval is that important to you, then understand that I could not be more pleased. And you can bet that old chips-for-brains is excited, or she would not be so overprotective. Now, you go get ready.”
“Yes, Commander,” Consherra agreed eagerly, obviously pleased, although her cautious retreat from the room suggested that she was still afraid that she had done something wrong. She turned and hurried down the corridor.
“So, she got your little boy in trouble,” Valthyrra remarked, amused. “I see the problem now. If you people did not have such a guilty conscience about neglecting your duty, I might have the crew I was built for.”
Knowing that she had at least an hour, Lenna hurried to her cabin and hastily climbed into her armor. She had already set aside what she would need, putting the Union officer’s uniform that Valthyrra had made for her in a pressure-resistant bag along with a modest supply of emergency makeup and her old Union service pistol. She preferred the more powerful Starwolf guns, but the aging jack-snapper was part of her disguise. Collecting her supplies, she went directly to the landing bay, where their fighters had just been brought out, and tucked the bag into the small storage compartment in her own ship. Then she climbed inside the cockpit, closed the canopy, and promptly fell asleep.
Such was her condition when the others arrived a little over an hour later. They halted in front of the first fighter while Velmeran mounted the steps of the boarding platform and rapped sharply on the closed canopy.
“Wake up, Lenna!” he ordered, although she could not have heard him inside the sealed cockpit.
After a moment the latches snapped open and the canopy rose slowly to reveal Lenna, yawning hugely. Velmeran reached in and lifted her easily from the seat, standing her on the edge of the platform. Still yawning, she led the way down the steps to join the others. Baress handed her a large rifle and a belt that held several small, thick metal disks. She looked at the items curiously.
“The Challenger is virtually uninhabited,” Velmeran began. “She has about one regular crewmember to every cubic kilometer of interior space, and the Kalfethki are confined to a small area. Unfortunately, there are sixteen automatons to every cubic kilometer, and no handgun is going to dent their armor. That rifle has an armor-piercing carrier beam and enough of a charge to wreck the inside of any sentry, and it is also the only thing that can kill a Kalfethki quickly. The heat charges are just as effective against sentries, but you have to get one against the hull of the machine for it to do any good.”
“I know how it works,” Lenna assured him. “Tregloran explained it to me.”
“He did?” Velmeran looked questioningly at Tregloran, who pretended ignorance.
All the various weapons were handed out to the members of the assault force, and they hurried to their ships to stow their equipment. Velmeran helped Consherra with her own, since she handled the weapons with such unease that they might have been fierce, alien creatures and likely to bite. Climbing into the cockpit, however, she betrayed her complete familiarity with the fighter.
“I will get you back safely,” he assured her as he helped her fasten her straps.
She looked at him with open astonishment. “I am not concerned about myself. I know that you will be taking all the chances, so I want you to watch out for yourself. Just remember that the winning of this battle does not win the war. We need you alive for more important matters.”
Velmeran smiled. “Now you sound like my mother.”
“Oh?” she asked skeptically, and smiled. “When we come back, I have something to say that should convince you otherwise.”
“Glad to hear it,” he remarked, and kissed her quickly.
He left a crewmember to assist her in securing the cockpit, gathering the weapons he had left beneath the fighter and hurrying to his own ship. He knew that he was wasting too much time. Valthyrra had already begun her evasive maneuvers, and would soon be complaining that he was likely to ruin all their careful planning with his procrastination. The ship had long since ceased to be concerned for his safety, at least as far as he could tell. Mayelna did quite enough worrying for the two of them, so he was not surprised to find her waiting beside his fighter.
“I came to see you off,” she said, almost apologetically. “I do not suppose that I need to remind you to be careful.”
“That idea has already occurred to me,” he assured her as he transferred his weapons to his lower hands and keyed the hidden latch to his fighter’s cargo compartment. “Would it be pointless of me to ask you not to worry?”
“No way,” she said. “How is Consherra?”
“Calm, confident, and nearly as eager to begin as Lenna is,” Velmeran said, his voice echoing hollowly as he worked inside the compartment. “I wonder why this means so much to her.”