The Messenger Box Set: Books 1-6
Page 147
“So Sentinel tells me it’s going to be awhile before we can really appreciate what we accomplished. There’s so much scrap and salvage from the battle—not to mention a bunch of half-built Verity ships—that we’re going to be working to recover it all for at least a couple of weeks,” he said.
“How many of those partly built Verity ships do you think we’ll be able to get into service?” Leira asked.
Viktor scrubbed a hand through his hair. “We’re not sure yet. There seem to be enough unassembled components to get at least four or five of them completed. And Custodian says we can probably reverse engineer and make the missing components from most of the rest. But it’s going to be a lot of work.”
“Yeah, it’s not like we’ve got a whole shipyard crew to put to work,” Wei-Ping said. “And I don’t know how much use the Verity construction drones and the like are going to be. Getting them cleaned up of countermeasures and pressed into service might be more trouble than it’s worth.”
“We might be better off just making our own drones and using them,” Leira offered.
That was a popular idea at first—but then Benzel crossed his arms in a sign of contemplation. “No matter what we do, it’s going to be dangerous work. If there’s anything left of the Verity, they’re going to want blood.”
“And the Golden might have something to say about it, too,” Wei-Ping said.
Dash nodded. “That’s why we’re moving the Forge into that system. We just gave our enemies a bloody nose, and you’re right, they’re going to want to hit back. But we hurt them badly, so they might think twice about taking on our fleet and the Forge.”
Viktor stepped forward. “By the time we get there, we should have all the new Forge weapons online. We’re giving priority to the rail-guns.” The big holo-image changed to a schematic of the Forge, with twelve stations, spaced equidistant around its equator, highlighted. “Rail-guns are pretty good on ships, but fired from the Forge—well, we’ve got almost unlimited power for them, and we don’t have to worry much about recoil. Custodian and I figure they’ll probably be the Forge’s deadliest weapon system, at least at closer ranges.”
“Good,” Dash said. “I like it. Let’s work up some tactics and procedures to try and lure enemy ships into range. If we can disable them by punching holes through their armor, but otherwise keeping them more or less intact, we might have more ships to add to the fleet.”
Wei-Ping nodded and made notes on a data-pad.
“Okay, I think that just about covers everything,” Dash said. “The fleet should be mostly back online.” He glanced at Benzel. “You figure another couple of days?”
“For the Herald, Retribution, and four other ships, yeah. For the rest—well, we took some serious damage, so the rest of the fleet, the ships that survived, anyway, is going to take at least a week.”
Dash gave a somber nod. The ships that survived. There were more of those than he’d feared going into the battle, but not as many as he’d have liked. They lost five, either completely destroyed, or so damaged they were useful only as scrap now.
But ships could be replaced, and would be. Soon, too, thanks to the Forge’s growing fabrication capacity. For the people they’d lost, it was a different story.
On impulse, Dash called up a list of names on the big display.
Their dead. One hundred and fourteen of them.
Everyone assembled just stared at the list. Nobody said anything.
There was nothing to say.
“I’m always surprised it’s not a lot hotter this close to the molds,” Leira said.
Dash nodded. “Yeah. Something about Dark Metal actually having a low melting point—which seems really weird to me, considering how we use it—and a bunch of heat-shielding around the molds. Custodian told me all about it once, but it got pretty technical.”
“And you’re just not a very technical guy.”
“Actually, for a guy who lives in space and flies ships for a living, I’m really not. I prefer to fight.”
Leira smiled, and for a moment they just watched streams of glowing metal being poured into molds, a mesmerizing display of automated purpose.
Dash found his gaze caught on the glowing metal, but his thoughts started to roam.
“Hey,” Leira hissed. “Look.”
Dash did. Off to one side of the fabrication plant, he saw Amy and Conover walking together and talking. He exchanged a smile with Leira.
“That’s kind of adorable, actually,” he said.
Leira nodded. “Yeah, it is,” she said, her gaze lingering on him for just a brief moment—one that he felt.
Another of those impulses. Dash put his arm around Leira, hugged her against him for a moment, then let her go.
Hard on the heels of that came an, oh shit, what did I just do? moment. He braced himself for a backlash, outrage, Leira to storm off—
But she didn’t. He glanced at her sidelong and just saw her smiling at the pouring metal.
They wandered away from the fabrication plant and into one of the big, adjacent docking bays. The Slipwing was here, with yet more battle damage being repaired, more upgrades installed. Beyond her, outside the Forge, he saw the Herald, surrounded by vac suited figures, sparks of welding glare flaring and dying as her own wounds were healed.
“Why did you do it?” Leira suddenly asked, looking up at Dash with a cryptic smile.
“Do what?”
She put her arm around him, held it there, then let it drop. Her smile didn’t fade. “That.”
He thought about it for a minute, this time choosing his words with care. He might be naturally impulsive, a do-something-now, worry-about-consequences-later kind of guy, but he really was careful about the truly important things. And this was a truly important thing.
“Someday, we’re going to win this war,” he finally said.
“And?” Leira’s brow lifted in a challenging way.
He shrugged. “And, who knows? I mean, when the war is done and over, we’ll still have lives to live, right? That even goes for the Messenger.” He meant to go on, but decided that was enough, and just ended on a shrug and a turn toward Leira.
She said nothing and just looked back into space, toward the Herald. He could sense her breathing suddenly change, but that was all.
Damn his mouth. Had he just gone somewhere he’d never been meant to go?
Something touched his hand. It was hers.
Outside, in space, it was utterly cold and dark. That suddenly contrasted with where they stood, each in the presence of the other, their hands finally touching. Here, it was very warm.
For a few minutes, at least.
DASH, SENTINEL, LEIRA, VIKTOR, and CONOVER will return in RAGE OF NIGHT, available now on Amazon!
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About the Authors
J. N. Chaney is a USA
Today Bestselling author and has a Master's of Fine Arts in Creative Writing. He fancies himself quite the Super Mario Bros. fan. When he isn’t writing or gaming, you can find him online at www.jnchaney.com.
He migrates often, but was last seen in Las Vegas, NV. Any sightings should be reported, as they are rare.
Terry Maggert is left-handed, likes dragons, coffee, waffles, running, and giraffes; order unimportant. He’s also half of author Daniel Pierce, and half of the humor team at Cledus du Drizzle.
With thirty-one titles, he has something to thrill, entertain, or make you cringe in horror. Guaranteed.
Note: He doesn’t sleep. But you sort of guessed that already.