Death Skies (Fire and Rust Book 4)

by Anthony James

  “That’s where they blew the detonator,” said Dominguez.

  “And one on the other side,” nodded Griffin.

  “Great minds think alike.”

  “I’d like to say we thought it through and came up with the goods, but we got lucky. Whoever thought of doing it on the Trojan, they’re just plain smart.”

  “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

  As the shuttle came closer, Griffin noticed that the exterior of the Trojan was discolored – the normally dull grey alloys were even darker and duller than usual, with uneven patches making the carrier appear like it was a forgotten relic of an ancient fleet, rather than the pride of the ULAF.

  Less than five minutes later, the transport set down in the bay with hardly a bump. Griffin’s energy returned and he hurried for the exit. The bay was in a vacuum and he replaced his helmet on the way. As soon as the green light came on the outer door, he opened it, descended the short boarding ramp and looked around the cavernous space.

  “All Vipers still docked,” he said, counting fourteen of them lined up, seven to each side of the immense bay. The normal load was twelve, plus a couple of surface bombers. At the far end of the bay, he saw the shape of another transport, the same type as the one which had picked up him and his crew.

  On another day, this space would have been filled with teams of personnel. Now, Griffin only saw a handful, every one of them carrying a rifle. Everywhere else, dead bodies lay in sad bundles. There was too much to do for the cleanup to start - the timetable of the living was more important for now. Griffin felt something catch in his throat.

  “I’ve been ordered to the bridge,” he said, hoping his voice was steady. “Take Lieutenant Kroll to the medical bay.”

  “Hey, I’m great now, sir. Must have been a false alarm. I’m only forty-five. No way that was anything serious.”

  “I’m ordering you to medical, Lieutenant.”

  “Fine, fine.”

  Griffin left his engine man in the capable hands of the other crew members and made his way to the bridge. It was a long journey and he broke into a sprint towards the bank of airlifts leading to the upper decks. He discovered more bodies outside the lift and he stepped reverently around them.

  With the bridge a little way ahead, he sensed the Trojan’s remaining detonators going off in the propulsion area far below. The carrier didn’t break apart and a background hum told him that the tharniol drive was warming up.

  The bridge was several times larger than that on the Hurricane and Griffin noted that its crew was almost at its full strength of thirty. Those faces he could see through the reflections on their helmet visors looked haunted and drawn.

  “Welcome, Captain Griffin,” said Admiral Kolb. Her pupils were wide and her jaw clenched from the stimulants she’d taken.

  A second figure came to greet him. It was Fleet Admiral Stone and, though he appeared exhausted, Griffin detected steel beneath. The man was wired up to a portable medical box and a senior medical officer hovered nearby. “Thank you for your assistance, Captain.”

  “We are preparing for a return,” said Kolb.

  “To Rundine?”

  Kolb hesitated, like there’d been a discussion on the matter already. “Yes, Captain. To Rundine.”

  “Is the Trojan secure?”

  “For the moment.” Stone’s face cracked into the briefest of smiles. “Sergeant Lockhart and his soldiers know how to improvise.”

  “They’re survivors,” Griffin replied. “How many Viper lightspeed modules did they crack open for the tharniol dust?” He knew the outline, but not the details.

  “Two.” Stone shrugged. “We’ve only got enough pilots left for three Vipers anyway.”

  “Four,” Griffin corrected him. “Five,” he remembered. “Lieutenant Dominguez can do it.”

  “We’re several days from Rundine,” said Kolb. “I don’t know what the hell we’re going to find there.”

  “Do you have updates from AF1 and AF3?” asked Griffin. He wasn’t entirely sure if he wanted those other fleets to return in time.

  “No. They were due to return once their mission was over.”

  The ULS Trojan entered lightspeed and the feeling of nausea wasn’t too bad. Griffin talked for a while with Kolb and Stone. They had plenty to share with him, most of it guesswork. He left them after a while and went to see what he could do to help out. Everyone he met, everyone he talked to, was going through the motions of living.

  “It’s like we’ve been invited to the funeral of someone who hasn’t died yet,” said Dominguez.

  Griffin understood. “We’re hoping when we arrive the casket will be empty and everything has been an unforgiveable hoax.”

  “I’d settle for it being a hoax.” A tear ran down her cheek and he put his arm around her.

  The Trojan flew on, bringing them inexorably towards an unwanted confrontation with the truth.

  Rundine

  The Trojan entered local space, half a million kilometers from Rundine. On the bridge, the carrier’s crew got on with the multitude of tasks required when entering possibly hostile territory. Griffin watched closely from an inconspicuous place where he wouldn’t get in the way. His heart fell when the early reports came in.

  “Admiral, we are getting a wide-band message ordering every ship in the vicinity of Rundine to withdraw immediately.”

  “Local scan complete,” said one of the sensor officers. “There are no spaceships within five thousand klicks.”

  “Where’s the sensor feed on Rundine?” asked Admiral Kolb. “And what reason is given for the withdrawal?”

  “Bringing up the feed, ma’am.”

  “The wide-band has no specifics, Admiral. It’s Priority 1.”

  “Damnit,” she swore.

  One of the bridge screens updated with the image of Rundine. The blues and greens which Griffin remembered were no more. The oceans were murkier, more like a grey than a blue, while vast swathes of the planet’s landmass was blighted with darker greys and blacks. Griffin’s eyes hunted for places free from the blight, but they were tiny and the ones he identified appeared to diminish before his eyes.

  Admiral Kolb swayed and put out a hand to steady herself. Then, she straightened and her face was taken over by an expression of such furious rage that Griffin thought she might snap. Kolb was stronger than that and the rage subsided, tucked away by a monumental exertion of willpower.

  “Rundine is gone,” said Admiral Stone, his face impassive. The man’s calmness seemed as dangerous as Kolb’s volcanic fury. Griffin stood alone, forgotten in the turmoil and wondering what his own expression said about the emotions he was feeling.

  The Trojan didn’t stay for long. Admiral Kolb ordered the carrier away on its sublight engines until it was far enough to activate the tharniol drive in safety. It was, Griffin reflected, the bravest course of action.

  After an hour at lightspeed, the carrier entered local space once more, this time far from anywhere. Kolb ordered them to hold for a full eight hours before she accepted that the enemy hadn’t followed. After that, another voyage into lightspeed, this time the destination being Earth.

  Having fought both the Raggers and the Fangrin, Griffin was left with the impression that this new foe was going to be the worst of all. Whatever the enemy brought, he knew he would fight it with everything he had and more. It would have to be enough.

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