Bane of Worlds (Survival Wars Book 2)

by Anthony James

  “You could be on to something,” admitted Duggan. “It’s still academic, since we need engine power in order to fire the disruptors.”

  “I was asked to submit a couple of papers on engine outputs a few months ago,” said Breeze. His expression showed he was thinking hard. “I think it was in support of our own research into energy shields. Anyway, they have a preposterous amount of draw in their current form. However, in order to contribute, I did learn a few things about the field generators. One of the earliest hurdles was their susceptibility to gamma rays. The first prototypes were exceptionally vulnerable. They added shielding, of course, but it increased the complexity.”

  Duggan started to understand where Breeze was leading. “A crude and filthy high explosive,” he said, repeating a phrase Breeze himself had once used.

  “That’ll do it,” said Breeze. “At least to one of ours. Who knows what it’ll do to this Dreamer stuff?”

  “Two of our nuclear launch tubes point upwards,” said Duggan.

  “I see where you’re going with this, sir,” said Chainer. “On the off-chance we manage to land a strike on the Dreamers, won’t this energy shield deflect the blast harmlessly?”

  “It’ll deflect the blast,” said Breeze. “That’s what it’s designed to stop. Radiation still gets through, as if the shield doesn’t exist.”

  “They might not even have a shield,” said Chainer. “We’re only guessing.”

  “The logs from the Crimson at least imply the presence of shielding,” said McGlashan. “It’s not beyond the scope of possibility for an advanced race to have technology that can stop lock-on targeting and can also stop explosive or plasma damage.”

  “I know we’re working on both,” said Duggan. “It’s early days, though. Some of this stuff takes decades to perfect and even longer before the Space Corps is willing to modify an existing ship design to accommodate it.”

  “They’re not going to sit there and let us chuck a couple of nukes off them, are they?” asked Chainer. “I mean, I’d love for this to work, but I think we need something more. They’re going to blow us to smithereens before our missiles reach them.”

  “What do you suggest, Lieutenant?”

  “Turn off the Lambda guidance and throw up enough missiles to keep them busy? I don’t know.” Chainer threw up his hands. “Hide a nuke amongst the Lambdas and programme it to explode when it detects an object nearby? Or remote-detonate a nuke by hand?”

  A sketchy plan formed in Duggan’s head. “How are the sensors coming along?” he asked. “If we can’t see our target, we can’t launch at it anyway.”

  “I could bring them up now if you wanted, sir. I didn’t want to take any resources away from the cores, so left them off.”

  “What sort of range are we looking at?”

  “The fars and super-fars won’t be available for another day I’d guess. I can give you a good idea of anything within fifty or sixty thousand klicks. Only straight up, of course. We’ve got nothing that can see through the side walls of this canyon.”

  “Turn them on,” Duggan said.

  “They’re running through their self-checks. We’ll have vision in a couple of minutes,” Chainer replied.

  “Do you have an estimate of when we can fly?” said Duggan.

  “The Dreamer core is astounding,” said Breeze. “It’s going to take us from zero to twenty percent in less than two weeks. That should be able to get us home in a month.”

  “A month is too long, Lieutenant.”

  “The longer we sit tight, the more the core can reroute,” Breeze replied. “And the quicker we’ll be able to go.”

  “How long since we landed?” asked Duggan.

  “Three hours,” said McGlashan. “It already feels like weeks.”

  “Sir, I’m getting a request from the Oblivion.”

  “Get me a link,” said Duggan.

  Crudely translated words spat from the bridge speakers. “ESS Crimson, this is Nil-Far - our sensors have tracked an object overhead at twenty-two thousand kilometres. It did not stop and is now out of our sight.”

  “Did it note your presence?”

  “Our AI believes a ship equipped with equivalent technology to our own would have detected us with a probability of almost one hundred percent.”

  Duggan bit his tongue to stop from swearing. “We have an idea, which requires us to fire as many objects in the air as we can manage. Have you overcome your missile guidance issues?”

  “Our standard missiles are not available for launch.”

  “Keep on this channel,” said Duggan to the Ghast captain. “Lieutenant Chainer, have those sensors come online?”

  “Sir, they’re dressed up and ready to dance.”

  “Is there anything overhead?”

  “Negative. The skies are clear and blue.”

  “Commander, I want those Lambdas programmed to fly straight. Prepare the nukes as well. They need to act as much like a Lambda as possible.”

  “A much slower Lambda.” She gave a rueful smile.

  “Sir, I’m registering a beam strike on the Ghast ship,” said Chainer. “Crap, that’s a big one. It’s melted about six hundred metres of her hull.”

  “Nil-Far,” said Duggan. “You’ve been hit. We can’t tell where from.”

  The Ghast responded in the synthesised tones which gave away nothing about his mood. “Our AI can detect traces of the enemy. In addition, we have tracked the beam strike to its source.”

  “The Ghasts have launched Shatterer missiles, sir,” said Chainer. “Four on their way.”

  “Where are you with those missiles, Commander?” asked Duggan. “Lieutenant Chainer, I want you to find the enemy craft. The Ghasts have managed it, why haven’t you?”

  “They’re deflecting our pings,” said Chainer. “That’s all it can be.” He pressed furiously at his console, with his face so close to a screen his nose was almost touching it.

  “I can give you four hundred Lambdas, sir,” said McGlashan. “As soon as we have sensor sight.”

  “Get on with the nukes. Don’t launch anything until I tell you.”

  “The Ghast missiles have detonated against an object a little over twenty thousand klicks up,” said Chainer. “That helps me get an eye on them.” He struck his console in excitement. “Yes, got the bastards!”

  “I see them,” said McGlashan.

  “Fire the Lambdas,” said Duggan. “Two waves of forty-eight each, ten seconds apart.”

  “First wave on their way,” she said at once.

  “The Oblivion’s been hit again – twice this time,” said Chainer. “They’re going to be a pool of sludge with a few more of those. They’re launching plasma flares and I’ve got traces of Vule fire in the air.”

  Duggan activated the bulkhead screen, which had been turned off while the sensors were powered down. The top of the canyon was far above, and the sky was completely obscured by vivid-white flares bursting in their thousands. Thick, grey lines of Vule projectiles raked through, converging on an area far above.

  “That’s going to interfere with our launch,” said Duggan. “Nil-Far, stop firing plasma flares. We need to launch our missiles. There’s a chance we can disable the enemy vessel’s shields.”

  “Holding our second launch,” said McGlashan.

  Nil-Far responded after what seemed like an age. “Very well, John Duggan. No more flares.”

  Outside, the whiteness faded from view. When it was clear Duggan nodded to McGlashan.

  “Second wave of Lambdas gone,” she said.

  “When will the nuclear missiles be ready?”

  “I’ve programmed two and we’re carrying six. Want me to do the rest?”

  “Yes, Commander. All of them.”

  “Nil-Far, how long between your Shatterer launches?”

  “One minute.”

  “The Ghasts have launched again. Three this time.”

  “One of their launch tubes has been melted,” said Breeze. “Their
ship is a mess.”

  “Have we scored any hits, Lieutenant?” asked Duggan.

  “There was a lot of noise from those flares. The sensors take a moment to settle.” said Chainer. “I may have read a power spike somewhere. I can’t be sure. The Oblivion’s been hit again. The Dreamer ship is still up there.”

  “Our hull is heavily damaged,” rasped the voice of Nil-Far. “Several of our operational systems have shut down. We will soon be destroyed.”

  “We’re going to try and bring down the Dreamer energy shield with nuclear warheads,” said Duggan. “Hold your next Shatterer launch until after detonation.”

  “The channel is closed, sir. Something’s knocked out one of the relays on the ground.”

  “Did the message get through?”

  “I don’t know, sir.”

  Duggan shouted in fury. With the communications down, there was no way for them to combine their attacks on the enemy ship above. They might only have one chance and it seemed as if it was already slipping away.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Duggan calculated in his head, even while his hands flashed over his console. He sent out a cloud of shock drones. Many of them crashed into the side walls of the canyon, clattering away into the distance, or bringing down chunks of rock and stone. Some of them raced into the sky, where they transmitted wildly fluctuating signal patterns.

  “Fire another eight clusters, now!” he said.

  “Ninety-six missiles away,” said McGlashan.

  The timing was going to be crucial. The nukes travelled much slower than anything else they carried. Duggan wanted them to arrive at the same time as a wave of Lambdas. He didn’t know exactly what he hoped would happen. The enemy ship’s tracking systems might be confused or overloaded by the quantity of targets in the air and if the nukes didn’t get through, some of the Lambdas might weaken the energy shield enough for the Shatterers to disable it completely.

  “We’ve had a detonation, sir,” said Chainer.

  “A hit?”

  “No sir, only fifteen thousand klicks. Must have been a Lambda impacting on a shock drone.”

  “That’s the chance we’ll have to take,” said Duggan. He sent up another cloud. The drones accelerated at a similar speed to the Lambdas. The ones which made it from the canyon were lost in the endless sky. Others were visible on the main viewscreen as they ricocheted and careened off the walls.

  “Lambdas almost reloaded,” said McGlashan.

  “Fire another hundred as soon as they’re ready.”

  The Crimson rocked fractionally, an infinitesimal feeling that Duggan detected only because he’d served on spacecraft so long.

  “What was that?” he asked sharply, wondering if the ground was shifting beneath them.

  “Beam strike aft,” said Breeze. “It’s going to get hot in here soon.”

  “Lambdas away.”

  Duggan frantically checked the status of the nuclear warheads. They were still showing green. He instructed the mainframe to launch them.

  “I see two nukes,” said McGlashan.

  “What’s our damage?” asked Duggan.

  “We’re glowing nicely,” said Breeze. “There’s about thirty percent of our volume showing heat alerts. Another strike and a big chunk of the ship is going to melt.”

  “Three more Shatterers have launched from the Oblivion, sir,” said Chainer.

  “They mustn’t have got the message,” said Duggan. “That could see us all killed.” It was worse than that – as far as he was aware, the Crimson and the Oblivion might well be the only surviving warships to bring news about the Dreamer arrival. On top of that, they could both attest to the fact that neither Ghasts nor humans betrayed the temporary truce between the two species. A loss of trust would make it impossible to forge peace.

  “Two more nukes flying high,” said McGlashan. “Four gigatons in the air.”

  “I can see three quick energy spikes on this chart,” said Chainer. “The Shatterers got there first. I can’t confirm a kill.”

  The Crimson’s nukes flew at about a thousand kilometres per second – a quarter the speed of the Ghast Shatterers. If the Ghasts had waited another two or three seconds, the first pair of nuclear missiles would have reached their target area first. As it was, Duggan remote-detonated the warheads before they flew higher than twenty-two thousand kilometres.

  “Whoa, I’m getting all sorts of stuff!” said Chainer. “I’m just trying to make sense of it.”

  “They’re not even trying to shoot our missiles down, are they?” asked Breeze.

  “Doesn’t look like it,” said McGlashan. “Cocky bastards.”

  “The Oblivion’s been hit again. It’s like they target whatever they fancy,” said Breeze. “Or have some crazy priority system.”

  Duggan detonated the second pair of nuclear warheads. His tactical screen showed a cluster of faint red circles, which expanded rapidly. The atmosphere was too thin for there to be much of a blast, but he’d tuned in to gamma radiation. He felt hot all of a sudden – it was warning up in the bridge. “Fifty degrees,” he said under his breath. “Let’s hope we don’t take another beam hit.”

  “I’m not sure the Ghasts are going to fly that battleship any time soon,” said Breeze.

  Duggan kept focus on the present. “Fire the Lambdas as soon as they load,” he said. “Give it everything we’ve got.”

  “The Dreamer energy readings are all over the place,” said Chainer. “Up and down.”

  “Are their shields working?”

  “I don’t know, sir.” He grinned suddenly. “I think we’ve got them! Their shields, I mean.”

  “Are you certain?” asked Duggan.

  “Yep, the energy output from their location has dropped to a fraction of what it was. And they’re changing position.”

  “Evasive manoeuvres,” said McGlashan.

  “Keep firing at them,” said Duggan. “We have no idea how long their shields will remain offline.” His tactical display showed the gamma radiation as it dispersed outwards. There was enough to kill anything living in a short time, yet the intensity was fading. He hoped they wouldn’t need continuous, massive bursts to keep the Dreamer shields out of action. He stretched out a hand, intending to launch the final two warheads.

  “They’re moving again,” said Chainer.

  “Where?”

  “I don’t know, sir. They’re heading east in a straight line. We’ll have no launch angle in about five seconds - they’re fast.”

  “You know what this means don’t you?” asked Duggan angrily. “They’re going to wait for their shields to restart and then they’re going to come back and finish the job. Only this time, they won’t be surprised by slow-moving nuclear missiles.” He could sense impending defeat and he didn’t like it. “What’s our damage report?”

  “Their beam weapon is much more powerful than anything we’ve got. Our engines have dispersed it at the cost of a huge overall increase in their temperature. I’d say a second hit will disable us permanently, with the side-effect of cooking us all to a crisp on the bridge,” said Breeze.

  “What about the Ghasts?” asked Duggan.

  “They’re a lot worse off than we are, since they took several hits in the same place. Life isn’t going to be pleasant for anyone stuck in that area of their ship.”

  “Let’s have a look,” said Duggan. The bulkhead viewscreen changed to show the front and middle sections of the Oblivion, glowing and half-melted into a new shape.

  “Sir?” Chainer’s voice contained an infinite excitement, like a gambler rolling the dice on an all-or-nothing high-stakes game. “Two more Shatterers have just launched from the Oblivion!”

  “What do you mean?” asked Duggan. “Has the Dreamer warship come back?”

  “Definitely not. Look, the Ghast missiles are curving through the air. They’ve peaked at over four thousand klicks per second and gone to the east.”

  “How the hell did they manage that?” asked McGlas
han.

  “Maybe they get a lock on during the reload,” said Duggan. “Or the Ghasts could have improved their technology already. They’ve had over a year to advance it.” He shook his head. “For once, I’m crossing my fingers and hoping a Ghast weapon strikes its intended target.”

  “Nothing we can do but wait,” said Breeze. “I hate waiting.”

  “You’ve got a lot of it to come, Lieutenant. Even if we win this one, it’ll take a long time for the engines to come back online.”

  “What if the Dreamers send another ship?” asked Chainer.

  It wasn’t a question Duggan wanted to offer an answer to. He gave it a go. “One step at a time. Try not to think about the possibility of a second death before we’ve escaped the first.”

  “I need a hi-stim,” said Chainer. “I’ve been trying to keep off that shit. My hands are beginning to shake from withdrawal.” He laughed, the sound free of worry for a change. “One step at a time,” he said, repeating Duggan’s words.

  They waited in the sweltering heat. Minutes passed and then hours. The Dreamer warship didn’t return and Duggan convinced himself it had been destroyed. The temperature gradually diminished and the viewscreen showed the Oblivion’s heat-glow had gone. The Ghast vessel was still enormously hot and it looked like a damaged parody of menace.

  The next day, Chainer detected one of the Oblivion’s rear boarding ramps opening. “Sir, one of the Ghasts has appeared.”

  “Only one?”

  “I can’t see any more. Looks like he’s just waiting.”

  Ten minutes later, the boarding ramp on the Crimson dropped smoothly onto the hard ground. A single figure in a spacesuit walked down. This figure was John Duggan. He wore one helmet and carried a second. He placed the second helmet onto the ground and for a moment, considered returning to the bridge. Instead, he made his way steadily across the five hundred metres between the two vessels. The heat was tremendous, but his military-grade suit offered enough protection. The Ghast came forwards, clad in a bulky mech suit. Duggan looked into the alien’s clear visor and wasn’t surprised to see it was Nil-Far.

  “Our enemies are no more,” said the Ghast.

  “For the time being. We don’t know how many more fighters they carry on their main ship.”