Fires of Oblivion (Survival Wars Book 4)

by Anthony James

  The Ghasts were an hour away when Duggan guided the ES Lightning to take its place amongst the collection of Vincent class fighters protecting the larger warships of the Space Corps fleet. The captain of the Dretisear didn’t respond to further requests and the Ghast battleships continued on their course. Duggan and his crew waited.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  AT A DISTANCE of one-point-five million kilometres, the Ghasts launched their Shatterer missiles.

  “There is a total of twenty missiles incoming, sir,” said Chainer. “Six from each battleship and four from each Cadaveron.”

  “Approximately six minutes until impact,” said McGlashan. “They’ve targeted the first line of Gunners.”

  “Are we one of them?”

  “Negative, sir.”

  “At one launch per minute, there’ll be none of us left by the time we can fire our Lambdas,” said Chainer.

  “Teron likes to keep something up his sleeve,” said Duggan. “Maybe the Archimedes and Maximilian have got Shatterers of their own.”

  “If that’s the case, they’re holding on to them,” said McGlashan.

  “So this is it?” asked Chainer. “We have to sit here and wait until the Ghasts choose us as a target?”

  “Yes, Lieutenant, we wait.”

  “There’s got to be a better way, sir.”

  “I’ll let you know when I think of one.”

  “The Ghasts have launched a second wave of missiles. That’s another twenty.” McGlashan looked up. “One of them has got our name on it.”

  “Understood,” said Duggan.

  “I can’t stand being helpless,” said Breeze. “I don’t mind losing as long as I get to stick two fingers up at my enemy.”

  “Message Lieutenant Ortiz. Tell her to prepare for impact. Keep your spacesuit helmets close by.”

  “Done.”

  “Activate stealth. If nothing else, it’ll tell us if we can shake off an inbound missile.”

  “The stealth modules are active.”

  “Where’s our missile going?”

  “We haven’t moved, sir, so it’s difficult to tell if we’ve confused it.”

  Duggan shifted the ES Lightning a few kilometres from its position, taking great care to avoid the other warships in the vicinity. “Well?”

  “No luck. The Shatterer has altered its course and it’s coming straight for us.”

  “Deactivate stealth,” said Duggan, returning the ES Lightning to its previous position.

  “I wonder if the Ghasts have any idea what a stupidly good weapon they’ve come up with,” said Chainer.

  “Unexpected consequences,” said Duggan. Then, without warning, an idea came to him. It was fully-formed and detailed, with perfect clarity – something to even the odds. “There is a better way,” he said, responding to Chainer’s statement from a few minutes before. “Get me Admiral Franks.”

  “The comms man I’ve reached won’t pass me through,” said Chainer. “He’s too stubborn.”

  “Whatever it takes, get me through to her now.”

  “Okay, I’ll see what I can do to bypass their comms team.” It took him a short while. “Here she comes, sir. She doesn’t sound happy.”

  Admiral Franks spoke. She was flustered and irritated. “Captain Duggan? I don’t have time for this.”

  “I appreciate that Admiral, but I need to know - are our warships expected to wait here while the Ghasts pick them off from a million klicks away?”

  “The details of our planned response were communicated to every warship, Captain Duggan.”

  Duggan looked at Chainer and was met by a shrug and a shake of the head. “Did that include the ES Lightning, sir?”

  “I assume so. Do you have anything you need to tell me, Captain? I have a fleet to command.”

  “Are we going to wait until the Ghasts destroy us with their Shatterers?” he repeated.

  Admiral Franks sighed, betraying a mixture of several emotions. “Not exactly, Captain. The Archimedes and Maximilian have been equipped with experimental countermeasures. We have the capability to intercept some of the inbound missiles.”

  “How experimental and how many interceptions?”

  Duggan had a way of wringing the truth from others, even his superiors. “The Splinter missile system is untested except in trial conditions. The Archimedes and Maximilian each have two batteries of two.”

  “What is the success rate on the Splinter missiles?”

  “No greater than thirty percent.”

  “Less than three minutes until the first Shatterer impacts,” said McGlashan, her voice raised to ensure everyone heard. “And there’s a third wave on the way.”

  “I have another idea, Admiral,” said Duggan. “Instruct each of our warships to make a lightspeed jump as soon as they’re targeted. Tell them to emerge as close to the Ghast fleet as they can and fire at the two battleships.”

  “Our spaceships will be destroyed.”

  “One Shatterer is enough to finish off a Gunner, Admiral. The crew on the targeted ships are already dead. This way they have a chance to hit back – to do something to weaken our opponents, instead of waiting to die.”

  “The Splinter missiles might be enough.” The tone of her voice spoke volumes – she didn’t believe it for a second.

  “Give the order, Admiral. Before it’s too late.”

  “Very well, I’ll give the order.”

  “She’s gone, sir,” said Chainer.

  It didn’t take long for the new instructions to be disseminated around the fleet.

  “There are multiple power surges around us,” said Breeze. “Thirty-seven fission drives coming online.”

  “Why not sixty?”

  “The Ghasts have doubled up on some targets, sir,” McGlashan explained. “I don’t know if that was intentional on their part.”

  “Are our ships going to get away in time?”

  “They’ll have something like a minute to spare,” said Breeze.

  “What about us?” asked McGlashan. “We’ve got nothing to fire.”

  Duggan took a deep breath. “We can’t let them have all the fun. We’re dead if we stay and dead if we go.”

  “I never liked those lose-lose situations,” said Chainer. “There’s no point in us activating stealth when we reach the Ghast fleet, I suppose?”

  “I’m afraid not, Lieutenant. We’re trying to distract them, not hide.”

  “That’s what I thought. I hoped you’d come up with another plan to get us out of here alive.”

  “Not this time,” said Duggan sadly. He turned to Lieutenant Breeze. “Our fission drives warm up a little quicker than the ones on the other Gunners. They’ve had enough of a lead on us. Get us ready to go. As close to the Kuidenar as you can manage – we’ll crash into them if we have to.”

  “I’m warming them up for their last ride, sir.”

  Duggan leaned back in his chair. His mind was clear and calm. He wasn’t scared of death – it wasn’t something he wanted, but he knew he’d had more than his share of escapes when another man would have died. Perhaps it’s time for someone else to have my luck, he thought. The idea was comforting.

  “Sir? The last of the life support units has failed,” said Breeze. “If we make the jump we’ll be plastered less than a micron thick across the rear wall of the bridge.”

  “Shut the fission drives off!” said Duggan.

  “Done, sir. With ten seconds to spare.”

  “Two minutes until the Shatterer reaches us,” said McGlashan.

  “Best get your suit helmets on,” said Duggan. “Speak to Lieutenant Ortiz and make absolutely certain none of her guys forget. Tell them to pray for the ones without.”

  “I’ve activated the emergency alarm in the mess area and their sleeping quarters. They’ll get the message,” said Chainer.

  “All thirty-seven of our targeted warships have gone to lightspeed,” said Breeze. “We’ve got more beginning their preparations.”

&nbs
p; “What about the inbound Shatterers?” asked Duggan, feeling a momentary concern that the missiles would somehow turn and pursue their targets.

  “They’re heading in a straight line, sir. Two or three will hit Atlantis – the others will go out into deep space.”

  “That’s some relief,” said Duggan. He turned his attention to the tactical screen, which showed the Ghasts as red dots of varying sizes. Around them, Space Corps warships appeared as much smaller green dots, with a single larger dot to represent the Anderlecht class Surgical Strike. Hundreds upon hundreds of missiles appeared, moving in all directions. “This is going to get messy,” he said.

  “Twenty-seven of our warships arrived close enough to engage,” said McGlashan. “The remaining ten aren’t able to launch yet. They’ve fired off another twenty Shatterers. They’ve targeted the Rampage and the Archimedes. There’s a second one coming for us.”

  “This is going to crap,” said Breeze.

  “Just how we like it, Lieutenant,” said Duggan.

  “Less than one minute until the first Shatterer reaches us.”

  “Where are those countermeasures Admiral Franks mentioned?” asked Chainer to no one in particular.

  Duggan didn’t bother to reply. With the failure of the ES Lightning’s life support, there was no point in trying to take evasive action - even sub-light acceleration would kill the crew and soldiers within a second. So, Duggan watched the tactical screen, trying his best to make sense of the chaos. Missiles appeared and vanished, having connected with their targets. New missiles joined them, criss-crossing the tactical display, with computer-generated numbers and letters assigned to them as the Lightning’s AI did its best to assign details and priorities to a thousand different objects.

  “Vincent Class ES Lion confirmed destroyed,” said Chainer. “Also the Spinner and the High Flyer.”

  “The ES Rampage has gone to lightspeed,” said Breeze.

  “They’ve lost one of their Kravens.”

  “Damnit, it’s the battleships we need to stop!”

  “Thirty seconds until the first Shatterer impacts with us,” said McGlashan. “There are launches from the Archimedes and Maximilian, sir. I don’t recognize the missile type – presumably it’s the Splinter countermeasures.”

  Duggan closed his eyes briefly, the confines of the helmet hiding him away from everything. Amid the confusion, his brain felt curiously detached. There was no panic, only sorrow at the losses on both sides. He knew he was helpless to affect the situation and for once it didn’t matter. He’d done his best and now it was up to other people to do what they could. The feeling of acceptance and calm didn’t last long.

  “Sir?” said Chainer with barely-suppressed excitement. “I’m getting a message from Nil-Far. He wants to speak to you!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  “NIL-FAR, CALL THIS OFF!” said Duggan before the Ghast had a chance to speak.

  “Dax-Nide has chosen to disobey orders, John Duggan. You were correct – Subjos Gol-Tur asked for us to withdraw.”

  “Why are you still attacking our ships?”

  “Dax-Nide will not back down and he will not listen to me.”

  “Pull the Dretisear back!”

  “I cannot. Dax-Nide must give the order.”

  “What?” spluttered Duggan.

  “You do not understand our command structure.”

  “A Splinter missile made a successful interception with our inbound Shatterer,” said McGlashan. “The next is due in one minute.”

  Duggan didn’t have time to feel relief at the news. “Nil-Far, if Atlantis is destroyed, there will never be peace between the humans and Ghasts! Don’t you understand? We all lose, except the real foe who has come against us.”

  “I wish it were otherwise.”

  “Why don’t you do something to change it?”

  “It would be a betrayal.”

  “The ES Rampage has destroyed one of the Ghast Cadaverons,” said McGlashan. “The Rampage is damaged but still firing at near full capacity.”

  “We’ve lost Vincent class Razor, Trance and Livid,” said Chainer. “As well as the Anderlecht Vignette.”

  The names came – warships, men, women lost in a withering, unceasing bombardment of plasma warheads. Duggan glanced at his screen. The Lightning’s AI was tracking so many targets it was pointless trying to make sense of it all. He looked away and tried to focus on the one thing he could control.

  “I understand betrayal, Nil-Far. Saving your species is not a betrayal.”

  “The Dretisear and Kuidenar are readying their fission engines,” said Breeze.

  Duggan’s heart jumped in his chest. “What are your plans?”

  “Dax-Nide has ordered us to leave the others of our fleet behind. He has instructed a short-duration lightspeed journey towards your planet.”

  “Stop this, Nil-Far. Withdraw and leave the Kuidenar to us.”

  “Goodbye, John Duggan.” The connection to the Dretisear was cut.

  On the Lightning’s bridge, the bulkhead screen changed to show an image of the two battleships. The Ghast vessels were difficult to see amongst the blossoms of plasma flares and the raking trails of Vule cannon fire. Duggan squinted until he could make out the dark outlines of the Dretisear and the Kuidenar. Lambda warheads detonated against both warships, the explosions bursting and expanding into brilliant white, before fading and becoming lost in the endless storm of countermeasures. Duggan was gripped with the certainty that these two warships were unstoppable. Whatever the efforts of the Space Corps fleet, it wouldn’t be enough to prevent them delivering their payload of incendiaries into the atmosphere of Atlantis. They were incarnations of death – come to set the universe on fire and the conflagration they brought would ensure the end of humanity and Ghasts alike.

  As Duggan watched, the shape of a Gunner hurtled through the clouds of flares surrounding the Kuidenar, the rear third of the Space Corps ship glowing blue from the heat of a Ghast missile strike. Streaks of Vule slugs converged on the approaching vessel, punching deep holes through the ruined ship’s armour.

  “They’re trying to ram the Kuidenar,” said McGlashan in disbelief.

  “Please make it,” said Chainer.

  Chainer’s plea was in vain. The Kuidenar fired a hundred or more conventional missiles from its port-side batteries. So close were the two vessels that it was over before Duggan’s brain could register what had happened. When it was finished, the Vincent class was gone – torn into a hundred thousand pieces and hurled across the sky. Some of the remains collided with the battleship, all along the four-and-a-half thousand metre length of its hull. Still the battleship came, relentlessly, its speed undiminished.

  “That was the ES Hood,” said Chainer.

  “A Splinter missile got our second Shatterer, sir,” said McGlashan. “There’s nothing more inbound.”

  Duggan looked up dumbly. A best-case success rate of thirty percent, he thought. One chance in nine they’d get both. Best-case. A tear rolled down his cheek, its existence hidden from the others of the crew. The tear wasn’t for him or anyone he knew by name – it was for the men and women on the ES Hood, who had given everything and been killed at the last, their sacrifice in vain. And it seems as though nothing can touch me, no matter how badly I play my hand.

  “The Kuidenar and Dretisear have jumped, sir,” said Chainer.

  “Where are they?”

  “Checking.” Chainer looked up, his face drained of colour. “They’ve gone close to Atlantis – they’re just shy of one hundred and thirty thousand klicks above the surface and moving at full speed.”

  “Fifty-seven seconds until they reach delivery range at their current speed,” said McGlashan.

  “Have we got anything there?” asked Duggan.

  “There are half a dozen Gunners closing and it looks like they’ve got the Proximal up in the air.”

  “It’s over,” said Breeze quietly. “They’ll hardly make a scratch on those two batt
leships.”

  “What about the Maximilian and the Archimedes?” asked Duggan.

  “The Ghasts jumped straight past them, sir. We have nothing big in range.”

  “The Archimedes and Maximilian are warming up for a short hop towards the battleships,” said Breeze. “They’re going to be too late to stop the Ghasts launching.”

  “It’ll get them away from the Shatterers,” said McGlashan.

  “Not much use for the people on Atlantis,” said Chainer.

  “We need those two warships intact, Lieutenant.”

  The sensor feeds remained on the Ghast warships. The Kuidenar and Dretisear were both damaged – their hulls glowed in patches of orange and reds, and plasma fires still burned brightly on their armour plating. Sporadic bursts of countermeasures sprayed into space, as if the captains of the vessels were concerned they would be subjected to a surprise attack. By a vessel in stealth, thought Duggan.

  “They’re within a hundred thousand klicks,” said Chainer, his voice thick with emotion. “Those bastards.”

  “I hate them, yet…” said McGlashan.

  “They’re fine warships,” said Duggan, saying what McGlashan had not dared.

  “Coming to eighty thousand klicks.”

  “This is the point of no return. For all of us. The numbers we lose today will be a fraction of the deaths to come,” said Duggan.

  “Aye,” said Breeze, unable to wrench his eyes away from the battleships. The closer they came to Atlantis, the smaller they looked – two tiny dots set against the tranquil oceans and endless forests.

  “I still can’t grasp that we have the technological ability to do this,” said Chainer.

  “And the stupidity to put it to use,” McGlashan replied.

  “Sixty thousand klicks. They’ll launch soon.”

  “The Archimedes and Maximilian will be too late whatever happens from here,” said Breeze.