Wing Commander #07 False Color by William Forstchen (best books to read in life .txt) 📕

way to get at us. They believed that it was the tender's shields that were keeping us alive, and they targeted her with the deliberate intention of rendering us helpless. Every analysis of the battle that we've run only reinforces that statement. We were lucky enough to have our own shields up, thanks to Commander Graham and his engineering staff, but the attempt could easily have been successful. In a sense, then, the crew of Sindri died protecting us. Though she was not a fighting ship, her crew was as much a part of the Free Republic Navy as any of us, and they gave their lives doing their duty. For that reason, I say, we should not feel guilty at our failure so much as we should feel pride and respect for them."

Tolwyn paused a moment. "For some time now I've been under pressure to give a new name to this ship. Calling it for a Kilrathi hero is not exactly appropriate to our plans for her, after all. There have been plenty of suggestions, some laudable, not a few disparaging or downright obscene." That stirred a ripple of laughter in the audience, despite the solemnity of the occasion. "President Kruger wants us to bear the name Alamo, after the heroic struggle for freedom by a dedicated band of patriots. I've resisted him on a point of principle. I don't like my ship being named after a bloody massacre where the defenders lost the fight!"

A few of the crew on the flight deck laughed. Tolwyn raised a hand and went on. "Today, though, I've settled on a name I intend to put forward to the Navy as soon as possible, if all of you approve. It's not normally my habit to run a democracy on my ships, as anyone who knows me will tell you, but in this case I want you all to feel that this ship stands for something." He smiled. "Some of you might not be familiar with the background from which I've taken this name, so bear with me while I explain it to you. In the mythology of the Scandinavian countries back on Terra, dating back to a time before Christianity, it is told that the gods once asked a master smith of the dark elves to make them a collection of wondrous gifts. There was a magic ring that produced copies of itself, a boat that could be folded up into a pocket, a wig of spun gold to replace the golden hair stolen from one of the goddesses by the trickster Loki, and so on. Now Loki became jealous of the craftsman's work, and set out to ruin it. He changed himself into a stinging insect and did his best to keep the dark elf from his work. But he was only partially successful in this. Only one gift was marred, the war hammer intended for the weather god Thor. The handle ended up too short, but the weapon itself was still a powerful one that the Thunder-God used time and again to smite his powerful enemies."

Tolwyn scanned the audience for a moment before continuing. "The name of the craftsman was Sindri. It's the FRLN's custom to name tenders after mythical smiths and craftsmen, and the tender we lost today was named for this mythic Norse character. Like the dark elf, we were plagued by flying insects . . . and they did more than just distract our Sindri. So I think it only appropriate that we call our ship after the weapon that Sindri made, marred perhaps but still a powerful force that will smite the enemies of the Landreich wherever we find them.

"Thor's hammer was called 'Mjollnir.' And that is the name I think we should give to this ship, our war hammer. Our thunderbolt." He paused, milking the moment for all the drama he could draw. "Ladies and gentlemen, I give you FRLS Mjollnir!"

The pronouncement was greeted with applause and even a few cheers. Bondarevsky smiled despite himself Under ordinary circumstances such a choice of names wouldn't have been likely to go over well. It was an awkward, archaic name, and drew on esoteric knowledge of ancient mythology. A bureaucrat assigning names from a computer list might have come up with it—that was surely how someone had arrived at something like Sindri in the first place—but it wasn't the sort of name to inspire any enthusiasm or win contests among the crew.

Yet Tolwyn's little speech had made it the perfect name for the carrier. Wherever they went, whatever they did, whichever battle honors they won in future encounters, they would always know that the name of their ship commemorated the thirty-two who had given their lives helping to forge a new weapon of war for the Landreich's arsenal.

In a way the choice even honored Viking, the dead pilot, whose ancestors in Earth's remote past had likely worshipped the god of Thunder and told stories of how he'd acquired his great weapon. Bondarevsky thought for a long moment, then allowed himself a brief nod of approval. It was fitting, however you looked at it. FRLS Mjollnir . . . the Hammer of Thor.

Guild VIP Office, Guild Base Hellhole, Hellhole System 1631 hours (CST), 2671.015

Hellhole had taken a pounding during the Kilrathi attack on the Landreich back in the days preceding the Battle of Earth. The Landreich base there had served as a field headquarters for the president's personal task force, and when the Cats had launched their assault they'd devastated the tiny Landreich colony before they were turned back by the Free Republican Fleet. The harsh conditions on the planet coupled with the complete loss of the original colony had made resettlement a chancy proposition at best, and the Landreich's government had decided against any such attempt.

That had suited Zachary Banfeld just fine. In fact, he had spread around plenty of money among the members of the Council to encourage them to vote down Kruger's request