Accepting the lance, p.32
Accepting the Lance, page 32
part #22 of Liaden Universe Series
She sighed then and stretched in her seat, arms over head, every muscle taut—and relaxing all at once.
Second chair gave her a sideways glance.
“Well, Pilot,” he said. “How do you find your boards today?”
“Much more likely,” she answered, “as you predicted. Except that I fear it would be considered in poor taste, I would remark how fortunate it is, that my fingers remember so much.”
“Pilot-brain has perfect recall,” he said.
She laughed.
“Very nearly as bad! Perhaps I ought not to remark at all, but merely flaunt my skill in becoming silence.”
“Unquestionably, that is the best course to take,” second chair said gravely.
“Has it ever been said, van’chela, that you have a very odd sense of humor?”
“No. Who would dare say such a thing?”
He paused.
“You raise an interesting point, Pilot. We may now find ourselves among those who might dare so much and more, with youngers. How shall we comport ourselves when this happens, for I will not hide from you that my sense of humor is fixed.”
She sighed.
“I had feared it,” she said sadly. “There is nothing for us, then, but to learn to brawl.”
“You find brawling superior to cultivating a gentle and retiring demeanor?”
“I merely recall what is our House.”
She frowned at the screen.
Daav, he heard her say inside his head. There is a Korval ship docked at station.
Recalling what was his House, he did not deny the possibility of a Korval ship being docked at the station Scout Strategist yo’Vremil was assigned to decommission. Possibly, it had been meant to be kept a secret, but very soon in their voyage it was out that their target was the fall-back headquarters of the very Department of the Interior which had as its final purpose the destruction of Korval entire…the Department which had subverted their son—among countless others—and which had very likely murdered Anne Davis and, by extension, her lifemate Er Thom yos’Galan, Daav’s own cha’leket.
The very Department which had cost Aelliana her life, and even now her proper body.
He upped the magnification on his screen, frowning at that ship, sitting so sweetly at dock.
Can it have been captured? he asked Aelliana, soundlessly.
Korval ships have been captured in the past, she answered, and he felt the prick of her worry. Most usually over the pilot’s…earnest objections.
Very true. We do well to remember, however, that there are occasions reported in the Diaries, where Korval ships were not captured quite so thoroughly as those who received it believed.
I wonder which this is.
I daresay we’ll find out, eventu—
“Korval!” That was Scout Strategist yo’Vremil.
Oh, dear, said Aelliana.
* * *
“We have received contact from that station, Korval.”
Scout yo’Vremil was an elder Scout; he had seen much and was not, in the usual way of things, inclined to excesses of emotion.
Or so Daav imagined.
“Yes?” Aelliana said coolly. “Does the message impact upon the piloting of this ship?”
Scout yo’Vremil glared at her, hounded.
“The message is from one Claidyne ven’Orikle, who styles herself Commander and states that she will be overseeing the transition. She offers to work with the Scouts for the orderly shutdown of Department of the Interior systems and outposts, and the proper care of personnel.”
Scout yo’Vremil paused, mouth crimped together.
“She offers a Scout security clearance and a Scout service number, as her bona fides. I have checked these bona fides and find that they have been issued by Scout Commander Val Con yos’Phelium.”
Oh, dear, Aelliana said again.
Daav looked down at his board.
“Commander ven’Orikle asks us to grant free and safe passage to Korval ship Basalial, which is bearing one Rys Lin pen’Chala, brother of Val Con yos’Phelium, to Surebleak for medical care. She states that this care may only be found on Surebleak and that pen’Chala’s case is dire.”
“Neither of us is, nor pretends to be,” Aelliana pointed out, “Scout Commander Val Con yos’Phelium. It seems that these arrangements produced by the Scout Commander have offended you. I assure you, we had no part in them.”
“You are, however, Clan Korval.”
“Oh, yes,” Daav said. “We are indeed Clan Korval.”
“Then, Clan Korval, you will put this ship into station, and you will take possession of the ship and the wounded member of your clan. You will leave this location, taking your Luck and your connections with you, and you will allow the Scouts to proceed with their work.”
“Ah,” said Daav, and shared a glance with Aelliana.
Well? he asked her.
I do not see what good we might do here, now that the Scout is wroth. This wounded brother, however—we might provide real aid.
I agree, he said.
Aelliana turned to Scout yo’Vremil.
“We will gladly obey orders. However, there is a matter which must be resolved before we may take charge even of a ship of the clan.”
The Scout stared at her, then drew a hard breath.
“Your tickets, is it?”
“The regs, sir…” Aelliana said apologetically.
“Oh, yes; we must mind the regs,” the Scout said ironically, and sent a glare to the board, where the recording module was housed. “ter’Meulen will have it from me, and he will make the records dance, which is his especial talent. I judge you each First Class Jump. Master is within the grasp of both; naturally flight time regs must be honored.”
It was, Daav considered, fair enough. It gave them their wings and leave to go where and how they would, without conveying extraordinary benefits nor giving rise to questions regarding how pilots so young had come to be masters.
“Thank you, sir,” Aelliana said. “As soon as we have those licenses in hand…”
“Yes, yes. You will have them by the time we are docked. If you would be so good, Pilots?”
“Yes.”
Aelliana spun back to her board; Daav to his.
“Kor Vid, please contact the station for docking instructions.”
“Yes, Pilot,” he murmured, and tapped up the comm.
Six of Us
Daglyte Seam
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
They came into a system crowded with ships, and for a moment Bon Vit thought that the Assembly had somehow beaten them.
“Scouts,” Sye Mon said from his station. “Standing out. Waiting.”
“For us? For…them? For the order to attack?”
“The members of the Assembly are not necessarily friends of Scouts,” said Sye Mon. “It would be better if they do not meet.”
Bon Vit laughed.
“An understatement, I think. Dare we hope that Claidyne has won through?”
“There is one certain way to find out,” Sye Mon answered, touching the comm button, quick fingers inputting a code. “Let us see who answers the comm.”
• • • ✴ • • •
The Scouts were not pleased—with her presence, her credentials, or her briefly outlined procedures.
Claidyne had not expected them to be pleased, truth told, nor had the Sixth of Them, who had cheerfully foretold that he would lose his commission for placing her thus on equal footing with the Scouts—if, in fact, he had not lost it already.
Despite their displeasure, the head of this particular Scout mission—one Strategist yo’Vremil—was even now approaching the station, where he proposed to meet with her. Scout yo’Vremil not being a fool, another Scout ship was likewise approaching station, this to provide security for the mission head. In the meanwhile, the pilots from yo’Vremil’s ship would relieve Vazineth of the responsibility for Basalial and Rys Lin, they being Clan Korval pilots. Claidyne wondered if that were more planning on the part of the Sixth of Them. Korval was ships, after all; he would want those he had lent to the mission returned, when they were no longer needed.
So, with the ships incoming, Claidyne had called a meeting of section heads on-station.
According to Master Healer vay’Elin, most sections were now headed by Healers. Those that were not had Healers in an auxiliary or secondary position.
“Advise me how to approach them,” Claidyne said to the Master Healer.
“Merely be reasonable. It will assist us if you tell the truth as nearly as you can.” She smiled faintly. “It is so very much easier to help someone believe the truth than it is to believe fantasies or lies.”
“My intention is to tell the truth and act in accordance with what I say; there are too many at risk to do otherwise.” Claidyne turned to face the Healer. “You can, I think, read me. Am I telling the truth?”
“You are, thank you,” Kethi vay’Elin said; then, softly…“That blade…”
“Keeps me in one piece. It is not, so I have been told, a true Healing, merely a makeshift. What I do not know is if the dagger was deployed because there could be no Healing made or if perhaps there was some notion on the part of the Healer that I might, at some future time, wish to return to a state in which I am two, living apart within one skull.”
“I can try to draw it, if you wish,” the Master Healer said hesitantly.
“I thank you for the offer. I have determined that it is best to leave the dagger where it is until I have finished my task here. After all, we do not know what it does, beyond pinning me together and aligning my purpose with Korval’s. And we certainly do not know what will happen, if it is drawn.”
She looked to Isahra, sitting calm in her chair, listening to all and everything.
“You will do me the favor,” she said, turning back to the Healer, “of informing me, if the dagger appears to be working loose or if it begins to do damage. Or,” she added wryly, with another glance at Isahra, “if I begin to lie and seem not to know it.”
“I will keep a close watch,” the Healer assured her. “If you will excuse me now, Commander, I will speak with my second and return in time to escort you to the meeting.”
With that, she and Isahra were alone in the Command Center.
“I,” said Isahra, “will of course accompany you, Commander, to provide general support.”
Claidyne gave her a wry smile.
“We shall certainly need to find a more imposing title for you,” she said.
“Do you think so indeed? I rather like general support. It has a bland malevolence that I find particularly pleasing. Rather like Department of the Interior.”
“If your desire is to be menacing,” Claidyne started—and was interrupted by the chime from the comm.
She spun, sought the screen and the identification of the line—and breathed a sigh of relief. The back-net was working. This, therefore, would not be more Scouts but—dare she hope—
She pressed the stud. “Commander ven’Orikle.”
“Claidyne, it is Sye Mon! The station is surrounded by Scout ships.”
“Thank you, I am aware. How went your part?”
“Well enough, after a few starts and surprises. And yourself?”
“We have been remarkably successful,” Claidyne said, deliberately not thinking about that sword strike of energy, Rys Lin crumbling soundlessly, bonelessly to the floor…
“The station and what remains of the Department is secure,” she told Sye Mon. “We have a Scout coming to the station so that we may collaborate on the next necessities. You may dismiss the Old Tech.”
There was a silence, longer than lag accounted for.
“Sye Mon?”
“There is,” Sye Mon said, “a problem.”
• • • ✴ • • •
“Pilots, you must take very good care with him,” Pilot ser’Trishan said, her voice not quite steady. “He is very fragile, and his only chance of recovery is on Surebleak.”
“We understand,” Aelliana told her, keeping her voice gentle and her posture soft. Daav was running the board check while she dealt with this pilot who was very unwilling to leave her comrade in their care.
“You have placed him in the ’doc, have you not?” she asked.
“I have, yes. To keep him stable during the journey. You must go as quickly as you may.”
“We will do so, I promise it,” Aelliana soothed her. “Val Con yos’Phelium’s brother—that has weight with us. What are his injuries?”
“I—”
Pilot ser’Trishan paled.
“He was…struck by a beam, Pilot,” she said, her voice suddenly hoarse. “I saw him go down. His jacket was burned and I smelled burnt flesh. The Healer said that he was beyond her, but there came another—a dramliza—and she only touched him and straightened him… She said that he breathed, and that his heart was strong.
“She said, too, that there were ties which bound him, and that he must be returned to his group immediately.”
“I understand,” Aelliana said once more, and it was no lie. “We will go quickly. We will keep him as safe as may be and bring him to his brother, who will know precisely what to do. You may safely leave it with us, Pilot. Your commander is about, I think, to meet with the Scout mission head. She will be glad to have your support.”
Still, Pilot ser’Trishan hesitated, her eyes straying to the alcove where the autodoc was situated.
“We are clear and cleared to go, Pilot,” Daav said from the copilot’s chair.
“Thank you,” Aelliana said. “Please confirm undocking within five minutes. Pilot—”
“Yes.”
She bowed.
“Thank you, Pilots,” she said. “She’s a good ship—but you know that.”
She turned then and left the bridge. Daav rose from his chair and went after her, to be certain, Aelliana thought, and to seal up.
She sat down, oriented herself—and turned her head as Daav returned and took his station.
“She seems attached,” she murmured. “What do you make of this story of the beam, and the dramliza’s touch?”
“As our kin include one who could unmake the universe with a thought, and another who might do the same in a fit of temper—I judge that the pilot’s report is accurate.”
“Yes,” Aelliana said. “Of course.”
“Basalial,” came the voice of control. “You may disengage at will.”
“And so, to home,” Aelliana said, and proceeded to do just that.
Six of Us
Daglyte Seam
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
The meeting with the section chairs had been, given the approach of the Scout Strategist, brief. Claidyne laid out the basics—all offensive operations were to cease immediately, all operatives were to be called in.
The Scouts would be assisting in an orderly shutdown of bases and removal of personnel to safe places. This was necessary for two reasons: first, the Department’s resources were so far depleted that they could not themselves efficiently accomplish all that was necessary in a reasonable timeframe; secondly, cooperation with the Scouts would send a message that the Department was willing to work with their colleagues in other organizations in order to solve such differences as might remain between them.
“Are there,” Claidyne asked, looking ’round the table at six bland Liaden faces, “any questions?”
“What shall be the disposition of Clan Korval,” asked Kin Jal vas’Tezin.
“That,” Claidyne answered, “is for the Scouts and other authorities to decide. If crimes have been committed, if Clan Korval is found to be involved in past wrongdoing or present crime, those things will be addressed appropriately and in the fullness of time. This Department will certainly present to the Scouts a list of our grievances against Clan Korval. A committee will be formed to document these matters. I regret that the imminent arrival of the Scout Strategist means that the formation of this committee must wait for another meeting. I ask, do you, sir, wish to serve?”
“Commander, I do.”
“Excellent,” said Claidyne, and met Isahra’s glance. “It has been so noted.”
“Yes, Commander,” murmured Isahra, and moved her fingers across the notetaker that was never far from her hand.
There was a small commotion near the door. Claidyne looked up to see a very pale young man slip out of the room on the arm of a colleague.
“Are there other questions?” Claidyne asked those assembled.
There were not.
“This meeting is called to an end. As soon as I have met with the Scout Strategist and we have established a timetable, I will call for another meeting of section heads. Please hold your calendars open.”
She stood.
Those gathered stood, saluted, and made their orderly way through the door.
“I will,” said Isahra, “require several more field notebooks in order to keep my notes properly, Commander.”
“Take as many as you need. There must be a storeroom…”
“Indeed there is, and I will be pleased to have a dozen notebooks delivered to you, ma’am,” said Kethi vay’Elin, working her way to Claidyne’s side against the tide of departing section heads.
“Commander,” she said, arriving.
Claidyne blinked. The Healer did not look…at all…well. Her face was pale and her eyes were glittering with tears, with anger, or some other potent emotion Claidyne did not recognize.
“Healer. Are you well? Will you sit?”
“I am well…enough. I come to tell you that…he who was watching over the…former commander reports that…the piece is off the board.”
Claidyne frowned.
“May I have details? Is there any sort of proof. This Scout—”
“Paging Commander ven’Orikle,” came the voice over the wide comm. “Scout yo’Vremil and his guards have been shown to the commander’s meeting room, as per orders. Refreshments have been offered and refused.”
Claidyne sighed.
“Have tea brought,” she said. “I foresee that I, at least, will be thirsty before this day’s work is done. Pray inform the Scout that I and my support staff are on our way to him.”
