Fires of Oblivion (Survival Wars Book 4)

by Anthony James

  Teron frowned. “I’m not sure,” he said. “Thank you, Captain – I’ll check to see if that’s been overlooked.” Duggan headed for the door, but Teron wasn’t quite finished. “Terrible thing for Lieutenant Nichols, getting killed like that. He put up a good fight, I’m told.”

  “That’s what I heard as well, sir. Saved one of the men at the cost of his own life.”

  “There’s always a chance for redemption.”

  “So I’ve been told.”

  With those words, Duggan left Admiral Teron’s office.

  CHAPTER SIX

  THE REFITTING of the ES Lightning was completed in five days instead of the eight days Teron had stated. The warship was parked in Hangar Bay Two and Duggan visited from time to time, watching with interest as a swarm of automated repair robots busied themselves with replacing the sheets of armour plating which had been melted away by the Dreamer plasma missiles. The robots themselves were dozens of metres tall - functional slab-sided units of grey alloy, with many-jointed limbs that could weld or squirt molten metal over the damaged areas and mould it into shape. Other repairs were completed from the overhead gantries in the hangar bay. Cranes and other machines whizzed along the length of the vessel, trailing sparks behind them.

  Internally, the damage had been slight. Still, nothing was left to chance and a thorough testing process was performed on the vital systems which kept the ship running. On one occasion, Duggan watched through a viewing window as the stealth modules were tested. When they were activated, the ES Lightning simply disappeared, leaving the repair bots motionless in apparent confusion. At their most basic level, the stealth systems pulled and twisted light to make an object appear transparent. There was more to it than this and Duggan was aware they could nearly eliminate heat and noise output. It wasn’t perfect as he’d already discovered on Kidor. When he stared closely into the Hangar Bay, he could just about see a distortion in the air. Whatever the rough edges, the results were incredible.

  When the call came through to let him know the ES Lightning was ready, Duggan hurriedly threw a few items into his pack and made his way to the hangar bay. The work was complete, but the signs of hastily-repaired damage were easy to see. The hull was a patchwork mixture of shiny and dull, with uneven joins and areas where the molten injections had dripped without being adequately smoothed off. Commander McGlashan was a little way ahead, her neck craned to examine the work.

  “It looks like it’ll fall apart as soon as we take off,” she said, her eyes betraying a hint of excitement at the thought.

  “It’ll hold together,” said Duggan. “If I was young and it was my first ship to command I might be offended by the appearance. As it stands, I can appreciate what we have onboard.”

  “Four days ago, I asked myself if it’d be easier to move the stealth modules to another ship,” said McGlashan. “I spoke to one or two people and apparently it’s not so easy.”

  “There’s all those extra engines at the back to think about as well,” said Duggan. “And the new AI.”

  “I know, I know,” she laughed. “I was badly mistaken - don’t rub it in.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said. “We should get inside and run some pre-flight checks.”

  “You’re not as confident as you sound,” she said, looking at him from the corner of her eye. She didn’t follow up on her statement and changed the subject. “I wonder if Frank has found something to complain about yet.”

  “I think it keeps him sane,” said Duggan, heading towards the spaceship.

  Flores and Dorsey were at the bottom of the boarding ramp, watching the activity around the hangar bay with suspicion and interest. They snapped to attention when they saw Duggan and McGlashan approach through the crowds of maintenance personnel.

  “Sir!” said Dorsey, bringing her hand to her forehead.

  Duggan returned the salute. “Are we waiting for many?”

  “I’m not sure, sir. Some of the troops aren’t here yet. Lieutenant Ortiz is inside.”

  Duggan shook his head in wonderment. His office was a considerable distance from the hangar bay, but he’d not hung about. Somehow Ortiz always seemed to arrive before him, as if she sweet-talked the administrative staff until she was assigned a room within fifty metres of wherever she needed to be. He couldn’t recall seeing a more enthusiastic member of the Space Corps this side of Commander McGlashan.

  The bridge was as he’d left it a few days earlier, the lighting and smells the same as any one of a hundred other Gunners. Lieutenant Chainer was at his console, his face reflecting patterns of green light from his console.

  “Hello, sir,” he said, giving a salute as an afterthought. “They’ve ignored my request to upgrade the food replicators. I told them we had more than enough power for one of the latest models, but they didn’t listen.”

  Duggan exchanged a glance with McGlashan and watched her smother a smile at Chainer’s words. “We can’t have everything, Lieutenant. This is a fleet warship, not a hotel.”

  Chainer pulled his eyes away from his screen. “The better I eat, the better I fight,” he said. He pressed a hand onto his chest as if he felt a momentary pain. “I think poor quality food will slow down the healing process.”

  “The medic cleared you for duty,” said Duggan. “Perhaps you’ve grown soft eating from the replicators on the Terminus and Rampage.”

  He took his chair and scrolled through the repair logs for the ES Lightning. Everything was in order as he’d expected it to be. He accessed each major and minor subsystem, checking carefully for alerts.

  “They’ve done a good job,” he said. “We’ll leave as soon as we’ve got a full complement.”

  “Want me to let the Juniper know?” asked Chainer.

  “Please do so, Lieutenant. It’ll take them a good while to empty the bay and I’d rather they got started early.”

  Chainer sent his request for clearance to depart. The external sensor feeds showed deep red warning lights cycling from dark to medium, accompanied by an orderly procession of people and many of the smaller machines following their predetermined routes to clear the area.

  “That’s going to make it tough for Bill, since he’ll be coming the opposite direction to everyone else,” said McGlashan.

  “He can handle himself,” said Chainer.

  It took longer than Duggan hoped and an hour passed before the bay doors slid open. He didn’t delay and took the warship straight out through the opening. The pattern of stars about the Juniper was familiar to him given the amount of time he’d spent on the orbital, and he watched the distant pinpricks of white light, wondering what lay out there.

  “Everything’s ready when you are, sir,” said Breeze.

  Duggan checked they were sufficiently distant from the Juniper for them to enter lightspeed. “Get us ready. We’ll go as soon as the AI’s got the course and engines prepared.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  Less than a minute later and they were away. Duggan thought he heard a peculiar noise from the engines that might indicate a fault. There were no alarms on his console so he put it down to being jumpy.

  “Only five days to the Dastin system,” said Breeze. “I’ve read the mission briefing, but it seemed to be somewhat light on details.”

  “As usual,” said Chainer. “We’re on a need to know basis.”

  “Don’t worry, Lieutenant, you’ll find out,” said Duggan.

  “Want me to arrange a meeting with the guys below?”

  “Not just yet, Lieutenant. In due course, perhaps.”

  “This must be top secret,” said Breeze.

  “Not necessarily,” said Duggan. “There isn’t always a requirement to let everyone know the details of what the Space Corps has planned.”

  “You’re talking like an Admiral, sir,” joked Breeze.

  Duggan had never once thought of himself as a rebel or a maverick but the light-hearted comment made him feel uncomfortable for some reason. There were times his loyal
ty brought him too close to the men and women who served under him. It was a fine line to walk and he felt a sudden concern that he might have ventured too far across.

  With five days to fill, Duggan spent much of his spare time in the gym. In the nine weeks of incarceration he’d neither gained nor lost weight, but felt the edge of his strength and fitness had gone. He’d tried to get back to his peak in recent days – it hadn’t been enough and he was keen to resume his efforts.

  He met with Lieutenant Ortiz once or twice. She’d come away from Kidor with fewer scars than the others – her mental strength was second to none. Even so, Duggan had been uncertain about letting her come along so soon after the ordeal. She’d produced several medical reports that proved she was in excellent physical shape, leaving Duggan wondering how she’d managed to recover so quickly. He knew she’d only recently turned thirty years old, so she had youth on her side. Whatever the reports said, she looked slightly gaunter than he remembered, though her eyes remained as sharp as ever.

  “Do you think we’re going end up facing the Ghasts and Dreamers at once, sir?” she asked one morning when they were sitting in the mess room.

  “I can’t give you a good answer,” he said. “There are things we don’t know. We don’t know what to do with the Ghasts. There’s no proof they’ve entered an alliance.”

  “It was Ghasts shooting at us on Kidor, sir,” she said.

  Duggan wasn’t sure he wanted her to know about the possibility the Ghasts and Dreamers were the same species. She wasn’t a one to spread rumour, but there were some things it was better to keep to himself. “Any chance they were different and only looked similar?” he asked.

  “No chance. They were Ghasts, sir.”

  “What weapons did they have?”

  “Gauss.”

  “With the same design as what the Ghasts normally carry?”

  She wrinkled her nose, which made her look like the girl she’d been years before. “It’s a bit hard to say. You know how it is when someone’s shooting at you. You don’t always look to see what colour shoes they’re wearing.”

  Duggan smiled. “Anyway, to answer your initial question, we might end up fighting the Ghasts or we might not. I don’t think anyone wants to – if it starts up again it’s going to be devastating for both sides.”

  “They won’t get another chance, will they?” she asked quietly. “Not with us having the Planet Breaker.”

  “I wouldn’t pin your hopes on it being the answer to everything,” he said. “We’ve only got one weapon and as far as I’m aware, only one warship we can fit it onto. All it would take is for the Crimson to get shot down early and then we’d have to face the Ghast fleet which is still superior to our own. Even if we destroyed their worlds, the warships they have in space might eventually find one of our planets. War isn’t a favourable outcome for any of us.”

  “A few of those two gigaton nukes would do the job if we lost the Crimson.”

  “What if they have sufficient planetside defences to take those out before they could detonate?” said Duggan. “If we lose the Planet Breaker, everything becomes a gamble – a gamble we can’t afford to take. If it comes to it, this time we won’t sit back and see what comes at us. We’ll fight with everything we’ve got and we’ll be as ruthless and savage as our opponents. If we lose, it won’t be because we had our heads so far in the sand we couldn’t see what was kicking our backsides.”

  “I’m glad,” she said. “I was becoming accustomed to the idea we might end up the victors. I’d hate to have that snatched away.”

  “Weren’t thinking of settling down were you, Lieutenant?”

  She looked at him, her dark eyes like bottomless pits. “One day, sir.” She had a thin silver chain around her neck, which she’d worn for as long as Duggan had known her. She pulled it clear of her uniform and there was a ring attached – a plain silver band of metal. “A promise ring,” she said. “It’s been almost ten years now and I’ve not spoken to the man who gave me it in five years. I don’t even know why I still wear it.” Her eyes glistened.

  “You wear it because it’s the only link you have to a life outside war,” said Duggan. “A memory of the past and a path to your future, no matter who gave you it. Keep it safe – it’s the most precious thing you own.”

  She nodded her head once and tucked the ring away. Duggan finished his breakfast, hardly remembering what it was he’d just eaten. He took his leave and left Ortiz with her thoughts.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  THE ES LIGHTNING exited lightspeed several hours away from the destination solar system Dastin-16. This was a far greater distance than usual and was intended to reduce the chance any enemy craft in the area would notice the fission signature of their arrival. After initial scans found no sign of activity, Duggan pushed the Lightning to full speed, aiming straight for the planet. He was feeling more confident in the ability of the stealth modules to withstand extended periods of use, so he ordered them to be activated as soon as they’d reached maximum velocity. The plan was to coast in and only use the reduced-output gravity drives for manoeuvring when they came closer.

  “We’re looking for three Dreamer warships and a gargantuan mothership?” asked Chainer. “If we can evade that many spaceships, I’ll do a happy dance for you all.”

  “What about your chest injury?” asked McGlashan, smiling sweetly.

  “I didn’t say there’d be any handstands in the happy dance, did I?”

  Duggan waved them to silence. He was busy running through the known data in order to refresh his memory on what was out here. “We’ve got a big, dying sun, with six unremarkable planets in orbit. The ES Viking recorded the enemy warships travelling between the fourth and fifth planets – Corai and Diopsis. Both planets are too cold to support life even if there were sufficient oxygen.”

  “The far scans have just come back to confirm no significant atmosphere exists on either planet, sir,” said Chainer. “I’ve tallied our data with that gathered by the ES Viking and there’s a perfect match. If the enemy have deployed a pyramid anywhere around here, it’s not generating oxygen.”

  “What about the third planet - Kiyro?” asked Duggan. “I’m certain it’s too hot for life, but perhaps they have technology to overcome such obstacles.”

  “Negative on the third planet as well, sir. There’s been no change since the Viking came here.”

  Duggan drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. “What would bring them out here, I wonder?” He looked at the others. “Suggestions?”

  “It seems unlikely they know where they’re going,” said McGlashan. “If they had to come through a wormhole, they won’t have any charts for this sector. Maybe they’re just picking whatever solar system interests them and jumping towards it to see what they can find there.”

  Duggan took another look at the chart which showed the confirmed sightings of the aliens. There was no clear pattern that he could use to join the dots and predict where they might be heading. It was certain the Space Corps had dozens of people analysing the data, so anything obvious would have been picked up already. What was most puzzling was the fact the Dreamers appeared to be taking a course that would bring them closer to Atlantis, yet without actually intersecting it. This conflicted with the report from the Projections Team which predicted a high chance of the planet’s destruction.

  “Commander McGlashan might be correct,” said Breeze. “What does the Confederation need? We need places for our people to live and we need planets with resources. Perhaps the enemy is here seeking both.”

  “It seems a bit haphazard,” said Chainer doubtfully. “I mean, the idea is sound, but their execution is random.”

  “If they can transform an inhospitable world to one with a breathable atmosphere, who knows what other methods they could have to find what they’re looking for?” said Breeze.

  “We should hopefully have a better idea soon,” said Duggan. “Two hours until we’re close enough. I’ll take us past Corai a
nd come back for a loop around Diopsis. It’s been a few days since the sighting and I won’t be surprised if the enemy are no longer in this system.”

  “Bad things have a habit of turning up anyway,” said Chainer, a cynic to the last. “There are two small moons orbiting Corai and one orbiting Diopsis. I’ll need more than a single pass to make a thorough scan of everything, assuming you want full surface data.”

  Duggan pondered the matter. “Surface data is secondary, Lieutenant. Get what you can but prioritise the search for enemy warships.”

  Chainer acknowledged the order. “Will do, sir. We might still need more than a single circuit.”

  “Fine, we’ll keep going until you’re satisfied,” said Duggan.

  For the next two hours, Duggan did his best to keep his mind clear. He wasn’t sure what to expect from this mission and it was difficult to keep from turning over the possibilities. He distracted himself by watching the approaching planet on the main viewscreen. Corai had a dusty orange appearance, streaked with large bands of a rich, brown colour. Its two moons were currently visible, showing as dark-rimmed spheres off to one side. The orange hue was a welcome change from the interminable greys of every other planet they’d visited in the last couple of years since they’d located the ESS Crimson. Duggan chuckled at the inner workings of his brain and wondered if he were developing a romantic streak as the years progressed. He was shocked to find the idea was appealing.

  “I’m going to bring us in high and wide,” he said. “There’s a lot of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere and I don’t want to come in too close. The ship handles like crap when the stealth units are active so it’s easier this way.”

  “Not too high and wide,” said Chainer.

  “I’m aware of what you need, Lieutenant,” said Duggan. “I want to be away from here as soon as we can – we’ll do this as quickly as we’re able.”

  The ES Lightning hurtled onwards, skimming across the extreme edges of the planet’s upper atmosphere. There was a tiny amount of drag and the hull temperature fluttered upwards, remaining well within its operating range. The warship wasn’t nimble at this speed, given how much of its engine output was taken up maintaining their stealth cloak, and Duggan had to reduce their velocity in order to keep to his preferred trajectory. He looked across and saw Chainer and McGlashan hunched over the sensor feeds, trying to pull sense from the reams of raw data. With the Lightning stripped of its weapons, there was little for McGlashan to do, so it seemed best that she help Chainer out.