Bane of Worlds (Survival Wars Book 2)

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Bane of Worlds (Survival Wars Book 2) Page 9

by Anthony James


  Chainer didn’t say anything. Duggan had half-expected him to offer an alternative. Instead, Chainer kicked one of the dead Ghasts from its chair. With a grunt, he dragged the seat across the floor and positioned it in front of four banked screens which Duggan had already guessed were part of the comms unit. “We’d best get on with it, sir. I don’t think Commander McGlashan has long left. My suit’s not got much longer either from the looks of it – enough power for two more days I reckon.”

  “Damnit, why didn’t you mention it earlier?”

  “I did, sir. There’s nothing I can do about it, so I just got on with what we were doing.”

  Duggan sighed. “Come on Lieutenant, let’s see if we can pull a rabbit from our hat.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Lieutenant Breeze arrived ten minutes later. He had a vast experience earned on numerous spacecraft. “I haven’t got a clue what their writing means, but I’ve got a pretty good idea of what console does what,” he said after a few minutes.

  Duggan could only nod in response. He was in a foul mood, since Corporal Bryant had just informed him that Commander McGlashan would be dead in a matter of hours, rather than the days it would take to get a Space Corps vessel to Everlong. He had the others to look out for as well and he did his best to remain focused. His arm throbbed and he resisted the temptation to take another shot of adrenaline.

  “These control the power,” he said. “I can’t read the gauges and I probably don’t need to know what the numbers are. The screens are touch-sensitive and they seem quite happy to track where I point.”

  “Unlike the control panels for the airlock door,” said Breeze.

  Duggan continued with his efforts to understand the Ghast equipment. Their method of doing things was lacking in finesse – clumsy, almost. Then he remembered that they’d picked up a lot of their tech from the parts of a wrecked Dreamer warship. Before that, they’d been decades behind what the Confederation could build. This was a mish-mash of old and new. Duggan persevered and soon he was sure he knew how to launch the Shatterer missiles. The trouble was, there was no obvious way to target them. Similarly with the disruptor – it seemed easy to fire, except the targeting was either offline or he simply didn’t know how to do it.

  “I think these options control the internal doors in the missile battery,” said Breeze, studying one of the panels.

  The suited figure of Chainer leapt up from his chair. “Yes!” he shouted.

  “What’ve you got, Lieutenant?” asked Duggan. He noticed Chainer had got something up on one of the monitors.

  “This is the Ghasts’ tracking screen,” said Chainer, pointing. “Look, there’s an object moving in a low orbit here. It’s circling around this nearby area of the planet at a low speed.”

  “The Cadaveron,” said Duggan.

  “No, sir, I don’t think so.” Chainer was clearly excited by something. “Over here there’s another object, almost directly above us. It’s hardly moving.”

  “The Ghasts have two warships stationed?” Duggan furrowed his brow. He wasn’t sure what Chainer was getting at.

  “I can’t figure out the numbers, but I’ve worked out how to overlay the two objects on top of each other. The first one is bigger than the second – I’d say it’s close to seventy percent longer, with a far greater volume.”

  Duggan suddenly understood. “They didn’t destroy the Goliath!” he said. “The bastards must have guessed what it was carrying and kept it intact. They’re planning to steal the cargo and use it for their own mining operations!”

  “That would make sense,” said Breeze. “The equipment in the Goliath’s hold is worth a king’s ransom.”

  “They’ll have a top-notch medical bay on the MHL, sir. They expect accidents doing what they do.”

  “Can you contact the Goliath?” asked Duggan.

  “I can, sir. Unfortunately, if the Ghasts operate anything like we do, they’ll be continuously monitoring our broadcasts. It’s good practise. There’s another thing, if it makes a difference. Assuming that’s a heavy cruiser above us, it’s smaller than normal – using the Goliath as a comparison, I’d say the Ghast ship is less than three thousand metres long.”

  “Must be an old one,” said Breeze. “For all the good it’ll do us.”

  Duggan’s mind was racing. He went back to the console which controlled the targeting. He was now able to see a mirror of Chainer’s tracking screen, with the Cadaveron and heavy lifter far above. The Shatterer could target either of the two craft, while the disruptor wouldn’t acknowledge either as a target. “I can hit the Cadaveron,” he said. “Even if it’s an ancient model, one missile won’t bring it down. If we can get them with the disruptor, we might get two or three missiles away.”

  “Will that be enough?” asked Chainer doubtfully.

  “It might be. Those missiles tore a Hadron to pieces and put a few big holes through the Archimedes.”

  “How do we get them with the disruptor?” asked Breeze. “I guess they’ll be at a hundred thousand klicks.”

  “There’s no reason for them to come into range. They can do everything they need to from where they are, including destroying this battery if it takes their fancy,” said Chainer.

  “That’s it!” said Duggan. “They’ll not want to destroy this emplacement. However, if they think something’s wrong, they’ll definitely send a dropship to investigate.”

  “They launch their dropships from a much lower altitude!” said Breeze. “They may come close enough for us to disable them with the disruptor.”

  “We need to find the distress beacon,” said Duggan. “And get everyone behind the blast door in the room above.”

  “Why haven’t the Ghasts already triggered the beacon?” asked Chainer. “At least I’m assuming they haven’t, since the Cadaveron is still circling happily overhead.”

  “This place isn’t rigged up to be secure,” said Breeze. “I’ll bet there are no alarms or anything to let the people in the control room know there’s been a breach. These two Ghasts could have been caught unawares when the air got sucked out.”

  “What about those three who tried to kill us in the room above?”

  “Who knows?” said Duggan. “They might have been suited up elsewhere in the silo and been on their way to check out the control room.” He spoke to Sergeant Ortiz. “Get everyone into the room above. We’re going to try and seal it.”

  “Sounds like you have a plan, sir.”

  “There’s always a plan, Sergeant. We might need to fire that missile in the tube.”

  Less than a minute later, Ortiz spoke. “Everyone’s in, sir.”

  “We’re going to close the door. Stand back.”

  “It’s closing, sir.” She went silent. “Completely closed now.”

  “Good. Sit tight until you hear otherwise.”

  By the time Duggan finished speaking, Breeze had found the distress beacon. It was a grey button, on its own away from anything else.

  “I wonder if grey is their equivalent of our red,” said Chainer.

  Duggan pressed the button. It took hardly any force and it made a click. There was no visible sign that anything had changed within the missile battery.

  “Any alteration in the Cadaveron’s flight path?” asked Duggan after a few moments.

  “Yes, sir. They’ve reacted immediately,” said Chainer. “I’d say they’re coming in for a look.”

  “Keep your fingers crossed they do what we’re expecting, rather than blowing us up,” said Duggan.

  “Expect the worst and hope for the best,” muttered Chainer. “They’re dropping fast. If they started at a hundred thousand klicks, I’d say they’re at fifty thousand now.”

  “Coming closer than that?” asked Duggan.

  “No, sir. I think they’ve levelled out at fifty thousand. There’s a load of mumbo jumbo coming up on one of my screens. They’re probably asking how we’re doing.”

  “Ignore it,” said Duggan.

  “
We’re going to be in the shit if they launch a dropship from that height,” said Breeze.

  “They normally come in lower,” said Duggan.

  “Yeah,” said Breeze. “Come and say hello to Billy.”

  “Still not moving.”

  “Probably takes a few minutes to load up and prepare for launch. They’re just being cautious,” said Chainer.

  “I don’t like it,” said Breeze.

  “They’re moving again,” said Chainer. His exhalation of breath carried clearly through the helmet speakers. “Forty thousand klicks.”

  Duggan kept his eyes glued to the disruptors. “Still can’t target,” he said quietly.

  “Thirty-five.”

  The Cadaveron became highlighted on his screen. “Target locked,” said Duggan. He pressed an area of the display to fire the disruptor and straight after sent the launch command to the Shatterer in the tube.

  “Some of these gauges are bouncing around like crazy,” said Breeze. “I’d say we’re out of juice for the time being.”

  Any other words were drowned out by a thunderous sound. Even muffled by twenty-five metres of alloy, the noise was tremendous. The whole missile battery shook and there was a howling roar that increased in volume. Then, it was silent again, as the Shatterer missile flew from its tube and into the night sky.

  “Seven seconds to impact,” said Duggan, remembering how long it took a Shatterer to hit the Pugilist at the same altitude. A green dot raced across his screen, on an intercept course with the larger green dot of the Cadaveron. The two dots met and the smaller one winked out of existence.

  “The Shatterer’s scored a hit,” he said.

  “The Cadaveron must have been pointing downwards when the disruptor got them,” said Chainer. “Its altitude is still dropping. They’re in free-fall, sir!”

  There was a rumbling from somewhere beneath, followed by the vibration of powerful gears shifting a thousand tonnes of missile into a position from which it could be fired.

  “Automatic reload,” said Chainer. The vibration continued. “Is anyone keeping a timer?”

  “Not a very fast reload,” said Breeze. “I’m counting.”

  “We’ll know soon enough when our minute’s up, Lieutenant. We’ll see missiles coming towards us.”

  “These gauges are settling down. I don’t need to read Ghast to know there’s nothing much left in the tank,” said Breeze. He spat the words out in a staccato rhythm while he maintained his internal count of the time. “I’m up to thirty seconds.”

  The gears continued to rumble and Duggan mentally thanked Breeze for keeping a count - it was important to him that he know how long they had left. “No third strike, then.” He’d realised this already – none of the Ghast warships had been able to fire the Shatterers quickly.

  “Forty.”

  “Maybe no second either,” said Duggan.

  “They’re at eighteen thousand klicks now. They’re going to land too close for comfort.”

  “Fifty seconds.”

  The sound of the gears stopped. Still there was no option to target the second missile.

  “Sixty.”

  The disruptor and the Shatterers lit up simultaneously. Duggan fired both at once, gritting his teeth at how close-run it was. The sound of the second missile engulfed the control room and it was a relief when the roar of its launch faded to nothingness. The Cadaveron was much closer this time and the second missile took only three seconds to strike the Ghast heavy cruiser.

  “Our power’s down to zero, give or take,” said Breeze.

  “Sir, I really think there’s a good chance of their impact killing us,” said Chainer. “It would be a shame, since we’ve technically beaten the bastards.”

  Something in Chainer’s words made Duggan burst into laughter. “I don’t want any of us to die, Lieutenant, but if we do, we can rest easy knowing we’ve killed some Ghasts with their own missiles.”

  “They’re less than five thousand klicks above the surface,” said Chainer. “They’re going to land four hundred klicks east. The crater’s going to be huge.”

  Duggan spoke to the squad. “There’s three thousand metres of Ghast heavy cruiser about to crash nearby in the next twenty seconds. I want you all to know that if it kills us, you did a damn good job here.”

  “Twenty seconds notice of impending death, huh?” asked Ortiz. “That’s more than we usually get.”

  “Now,” said Chainer.

  For a few seconds, there was nothing. Then, the walls of the silo began to shake. It started gradually, before building in ferocity. Duggan struggled to keep his feet and Chainer was knocked from his chair. The rumbling didn’t subside, rather it built again until it reached a new intensity. The entire missile battery canted to one side and the three of them were cast helplessly into the wall. One of the screens fell loose and it smashed against Duggan’s shoulder. He shouted in pain and anger. Still the shaking went on, until it seemed as if the shockwave was going to kill them all.

  After what seemed like an eternity, the quaking stopped. Duggan struggled to his feet, fighting for grip on the thirty-degree tilt of the smooth floor.

  “Is anyone hurt?” he asked the squad. “How’s Commander McGlashan?”

  “The Commander’s been well looked after, sir,” said Corporal Bryant. “Other than that, I’d say we have plenty of bruises.”

  It was better news than Duggan could have hoped for, but there was no time for celebration. “Lieutenant Chainer, do you think you can open a channel to the Goliath? Ask her captain to scan the crash site and tell us what’s out there.”

  Chainer pressed a few areas of his console. He waited and then pressed them again. “It’s not working, sir. Either I’m doing it wrong or our comms are down.”

  Duggan swore. “Everybody, get ready to move out. We’re getting out of here and we’re going to see what a crash-landed Cadaveron looks like.” In his head, there was another thought, which he didn’t speak. And if the Ghasts have killed Morgan and disabled the comms beacon, we’re going to be right out of luck.

  Chapter Twelve

  It took longer to exit the silo than it had taken to enter. The structure had been knocked at an angle by the shock from the Ghast heavy cruiser. The floor was smooth and even the high-grip soles of the space suits struggled as the men and women clambered around the central area where the missiles had launched from. In addition, the inner walls of the silo were still blisteringly hot from the launch.

  “Over two hundred degrees,” said Duggan. “It wouldn’t normally matter, except my suit’s not functioning properly.”

  “It feels about eighty degrees in my suit,” said Chainer. “I’m not sure there’s any power going to the temperature control. Natural insulation only for me.”

  “It’s not too cold on the surface, Lieutenant.”

  “Colder than I’d like.”

  Duggan paused for a moment on the perimeter steps. Corporal Bryant and Sergeant Ortiz were carrying McGlashan. It didn’t look easy.

  Ortiz caught his reflective visor looking at them. “I’d rather be carrying a rifle,” she grunted.

  At last, they reached the entrance airlock room. The heavy outer door was in the same place, jammed against the dead Ghast in its mech suit. Duggan instructed the others to wait. He climbed onto the twisted metal-clad body and inched sideways through the door. It was still night and his suit vision flickered and jumped disconcertingly as the damaged helmet struggled to cope. The missile battery had tipped away from the edge of the crater it had been buried in and was lying against the collapsed opposite wall of the hole. There seemed to be a lot more earth and gravel than there had been earlier. Duggan had to perform a controlled slide down the exposed outer surface of the tube and jump the last few feet. He landed in soft earth and scrambled upwards towards the edge above him.

  Duggan looked over the loose dirt at the crater’s edge, making the most of the cover it provided. There was no sign of the Ghast light tank which had chewed
up the dredger with repeater fire. There was plenty of other damage. In fact, nothing looked the same as before. The mining equipment was scattered about, most of it tipped over, or thrown from its original position. From where he was, Duggan could see most of the dredger. The remaining pieces of it had moved a great distance, and there was a huge chunk of sharp-edged metal balanced precariously on the edge of the pit near to the missile tube. It didn’t look as if it was going to fall of its own accord, but Duggan was concerned there might be aftershocks from the earlier earthquake.

  “Sergeant Ortiz. Bring everyone out. And thank your lucky stars we found ourselves in what must have been the most secure structure on the entire planet.”

  “Coming out now, sir. I take it the world’s gone to shit out there?”

  “It’s worse than that, Sergeant. Far worse.” She didn’t respond to that. Duggan climbed onto the ground above and surveyed the area as best he could. The mining tunnels he could see had all collapsed – buried and gone beneath a billion tonnes of earth and stone. The sides of the mining pit were no longer carefully tiered. Instead, they were ragged from the numerous landslides triggered by the Cadaveron’s impact. The eastern wall was too far to make out clearly – it looked like a dark mass, but was now much lower than it had been before. The shocks must have punched the sides in and caused the whole lot to come down.

  “Infantryman Morgan, do you copy?” he asked. There was no response. “Infantryman Morgan, do you copy?” Duggan’s heart lurched in his chest at the thought of losing another squad member and their only comms beacon.

  “Morgan here, sir. Are the fireworks over?”

  Duggan blew out noisily. “For now, soldier. Are you hurt? How’s that comms beacon?”

  “I’m the luckiest man alive, sir. I took a couple of knocks is all. I’ve looked after that beacon like it was my own child.”

 

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