The Starwolves by Thorarinn Gunnarsson Page B

sir," the officer explained. "Apparently there was some
malfunction in the decoy ship. It evaded but did not respond to contact from
the station. It certainly did not explode."
    Trace shrugged again. "Doesn't sound like my ship, if it evaded. The
one we sent out wasn't that smart. I suppose we got whipped in the
process?"
    "Yes, sir. We lost all the system fleet," the messenger reported
in a quiet voice, then brightened. "We did take a prisoner."
    "A prisoner?" the Sector Commander asked himself, and glanced up.
"Did you say a prisoner?"
    "Yes, sir. A Starwolf rammed a carrier and became trapped inside, alive
and well. Being empty, she was quick enough to whip around and break from the
battle, and we covered her escape. Her pursuit gave up just as she was heading
out of system."
    "At least her captain had sense enough to take her out of system,"
Trace mused. "Do you know where they were bound?"
    "No, sir. They refused to say over com, for fear it would be overheard.
They did promise another courier as soon as they arrived."
    "That was all they could do, I suppose," he told himself,
then glanced down at the messenger. "Put that report on my desk and leave
the key with me now. Then wait in port until I dismiss you. I might have a
message for you to take back."
    The messenger saluted smartly and turned to leave. Trace returned to the
apartment, closing the door quietly. A prisoner? A live Starwolf? He had never
heard of such a thing happening before. As soon as he entered the dining room,
he found that Councilor Lake, with his uncanny talent for sensing trouble,
was already moving to intercept him. Richart, the well-trained apprentice,
appeared a moment later from another direction. Trace turned abruptly to
the bar, seizing that as their excuse for a few quiet words.
    "Courier from Tallin?" the elder Lake inquired quietly as he
inspected the stock of wine on hand. "So how did it go?"
    "They took the bait, but the conversion device failed to detonate for
some reason. We lost the system fleet as a result," he reported quickly,
then grinned. "We did take a prisoner."
    The Councilor stared at him, wide-eyed. "A what?"
    Donalt quickly explained all that he had been told. The elder Lake obviously
did not know what to make of it, seeming to weigh whether it was good news or
not. Richart, however, had no such trouble deciding, his boyish face
uncharacteristically solemn. Since Trace expected only some advantage to come
of it, he was somewhat dismayed by their cautious reactions.
    "Have you ever heard of our taking a Starwolf prisoner
before?" he asked.
    "No, I haven't," Lake admitted, still distracted by his own
thoughts. "We have managed to acquire a body from time to time, which is
how we know as much about them as we do. But we've never had a live body
before."
    "Why not?"
    "Mostly because the Starwolves would rip this sector apart to find
him."
    "But what can they do about it, if they have no idea where we have
him?" the Sector Commander demanded. "That is the trick, isn't it? We
just need to keep him in hiding until we're finished with him. We did it
before, with the Vardon's memory cell. We kept it hidden for thousands of
years."
    "That is a completely different case," Lake replied, brushing that
impatiently aside. "For one thing, they weren't even aware it existed
until we finally put it on public display here in Vannkarn. And the memory cell
is also an imperishable good; you can bet that they plan to come for it in
their own good time. But a prisoner is altogether something else. They
know that we have him, where we got him, and they are going to do whatever they
must to get him back."
    "You think they can trace him?" Richart asked.
    "I am willing to bet on it," the Councilor said firmly. "They
have technology we can only dream about. For all we know, their scanners can
track a ship across stellar distances. And just as likely, they can follow
its trail of energy-emission residue. How should I know?"
    "Here comes trouble,"