"Oh, they're willing enough," Brim agreed. "Universe knows they're all of that. But if we—you, Aram, and I—don't keep the pressure on them now, while the Leaguers aren't aiming their best punches directly at our chins, it'll be even harder on them when the blows do begin to fall. Universe, Toby, remember what it was like for us the first time we ran into the Leaguers, and we'd been fighting The Torond for more than a month."
"I remember," Moulding replied thoughtfully, "all too well. We certainly are not leading the ships full of veterans that we were in Fluvanna." He gave a sad little chuckle. "I hadn't wanted to say anything, Wilf," he sighed, "because you couldn't do anything more than I could about it, except work the poor sods harder. And I was already doing that." He looked down at the pavement for a moment. "I still am," he muttered.
Brim nodded as they flagged down a staff skimmer. "I know you are," he said. "And by doing it, you're also driving yourself. Doesn't take a medic to see how desperately tired you've become yourself."
"Speak for yourself, Wilf," Moulding said with a sage nod. "You didn't get those bloodshot eyes from too much rest, either." He laughed grimly. "If any of us are still around at the end of this next big scrap, then all the torment—for both the driver and the driven—will seem quite worthwhile, I should think. Especially if we win."
"When we win," Brim corrected. "Those Starfury drivers of yours are doing xaxtdamned well. They'll come through in the pinch. I know it."
"All right, 'when we win.' " Moulding laughed, punching the Carescrian on his forearm. "I'd almost forgot I was talking to Wilf Brim."
Brim grinned and punched his old friend back. "Keep up the good work, Toby," he said. "Don't give 'em even a moment of free time to think about what might happen. The more practice they get, the better they'll do when they've got real Leaguers to fight."
"They'll be ready," Moulding assured him.
Brim nodded and smiled. But inside, he wasn't so certain of anything. The only true test of a warrior's skill was actual war, and they hadn't had much of that—yet.
Brim got his own first taste of action the third morning after arriving over Avalon. He had taken Starfury R6595 on a lone-wolf mission to help calibrate one of the highly secret BKAEW tracking systems lofted to the five-hundred-c'lenyt level earlier in the year. The highly classified satellites—hardly more than four armored control rooms centered in a huge antenna system—were rumored to use KA'PPA instantaneous-communication waves for tracking starships at distances measured in hundreds of light-years, where mere light-speed-limited wavelengths were clearly impractical.
From the orbit of Avalon, he was instructed to set a course of 145:19, which would bring the ship to Galactic coordinates HK*452/-68:435, approximately thirty-five hundred c'lenyts off the occupied Effer'wyckean planet of Ellivuaeb. From there, he would slow through LightSpeed, change course, and fly as far as the Thias-Remo star system KA'PPAing his position in relation to several asteroid clusters along the way. Then, he and his crew could come home. At face value, it sounded like an easy run, in and out before breakfast—if they were lucky. However, the area literally swarmed with Leaguer starship bases, and in reality, their only chance of coming through without a donnybrook was to move as rapidly as possible, thereby minimizing the likelihood of interception by what would simply have to be vastly superior Leaguer forces....
Starfury R6595 cleared FleetPort 30 while the capital below was still in its dark period and passed into Hyperspeed shortly afterward. Looking aft, Brim could see the muted blaze of his Drive plume curving gently to port as he put the helm over and picked up his course for Effer'wyck. Forward through the Hyperscreens, the 'Wyckean Void extended to the Effer'wyckean coastal stars, while a tiny galaxy of glowing data flowed constantly across his readout panels. Not a hint of stray gravity marred their course as they hurtled through the majestic emptiness of interstellar space. A beautiful flight, in anybody's estimation.
They crossed the hundred or so light-years in no time at all. Ellivuaeb was large in the Hyperscreens when Brim's KA'PPA display suddenly chimed and filled with the old-fashioned language symbols transmitted by the system, "R6595 FROM KGL-32, ORBIT HYPOSPEED IN PLACE, PLEASE."
Brim nodded, slowing through LightSpeed and circling while they calibrated their instruments. It was very comfortable at the helm of a Starfury, and soon he began to feel drowsy as he repetitiously went on flying the same closed course again and again. The KA'PPA brought that to a quick end, however, as it began to chime and abruptly changed its display. "R6595 FROM KGL-32, IMMEDIATELY KA'PPA YOUR MEAN DISTANCE FROM ELLIVUAEB."
Brim frowned and turned to nod at the Navigating Officer. Something must be up; it was certainly not yet time for his broadcasts in the clear. "Send it," he said.
Only a few cycles passed before the KA'PPA display chimed in response. "R6595 FROM KGL-32, STEER 090:15 IMMEDIATELY."
Instantly, Brim came alert. If BKAEW really did work, a suspicious starship could be somewhere about, just outside the range of T6595's own proximity indicators. Perhaps the operators wanted to identify him on their readouts. He put the helm hard over and skidded onto the new course.
Then he looked around him, rolled left and right a few times to check on blind spots. Everything looked empty enough. He was below LightSpeed, so both he and any possible attackers would be leaving no Drive plume to track.
"LOOK OUT, R6595, AT A YELLOW-GREEN APEX," the KA'PPA chimed, "YOU ARE BEING SHADOWED BY ANOTHER STARSHIP."
Immediately, Brim turned his head in that direction and glimpsed a small, brilliant dot, slipping behind an asteroid shoal. It was too far away to identify, but if it were a Leaguer ship, he meant to keep a discreet eye on it. Turning onto his original course to make the other Helmsman commit himself, he called for action stations and gave permission to enable the ship's disrupters.
Within three cycles, the dot had become a chevron, one of the Gorn-Hoff 262E killer ships, most likely. The Leaguer cycled through a half-dozen banks, setting up his attack, clearly of the opinion that Brim and his Starfury had not yet detected him.
In a matter of moments, the Starfury was ready for battle. It was Brim's first action since he led a squadron of Starfuries at the great battle of Zonga'ar—and something in his warrior's psyche had been missing the rush of adrenaline that always preceded battle. He steeled himself and listened as the small bridge came alive with muted voices and running feet, switching extra gravity boost to the generators while summoning 115 percent from the power chambers. All right. Leaguer, he thought with a smile, let's see you try it!
"Here he comes," someone warned quietly from the rear of the bridge.
Brim looked up as the Leaguer angled into a gentle spiral, clearly designed to bring him in on R6595's tail. He was only a short distance away, relying on darkness to mask his movements and running slow to make certain of his kill.
"Hang on," Brim shouted, then punched the thrust dampers all the way forward, throwing the Starfury into a very deep turn away from the planet. Now, he could keep his eyes on the Leaguer and still maneuver.
Taken by surprise, the enemy gunners opened fired, but they were much too late, and the huge bursts of energy glowed harmlessly far astern of their intended target.
Brim leveled out and continued his right turn. The Gorn-Hoff tried to turn inside, but his steering engines had insufficient energy at that speed, and he flipped into a spin, caught in the planet's gravity.
Once again, Mark Valerian's superb design had triumphed, and for a moment, Brim could see the League markings—big crimson daggers outlined in white—on the pale blue undersurface of the enemy craft.