“This is stupid!” roared Duggan. “Damnit man, can’t you see that?”
“If Admiral Franks gives me permission, I will override the base control systems. Or the Fleet Admiral, of course.”
“Admiral Franks is busy, Colonel Jabran! She has dozens of ships to coordinate. This is your station, not hers.”
“I have stated my position,” said Jabran flatly. Duggan recognized the tone of a man who’d dug his heels in and had no intention of budging. He gave the signal to Chainer for the comms channel to be closed.
“Piss off,” said Duggan after a moment. He wasn’t usually prone to displays of petulance, but couldn’t think of a more suitable response to the situation.
“This is crazy,” said Chainer. He looked baffled.
“Try and get me through to Admiral Franks again.”
Chainer tried. “She’s still unavailable, sir.”
“Get someone to pass on a message, then.”
“What about Admiral Teron, sir?” asked McGlashan. “He could get this sorted out.”
Duggan had already thought about speaking to Teron. If he did so, it would mean going above Admiral Franks’ head, which she might think disrespectful and Duggan didn’t want to risk it just yet. It could potentially be a day or two until the Ghasts arrived, so there was a bit of time before he was required to take more direct action.
Duggan shook his head at the whims of fate. If the Ghasts arrived unexpectedly early, it would take precious extra minutes to get the Proximal up into space. While a single, ageing Anderlecht was unlikely to make a significant difference to the outcome, it still possessed enough firepower that it was better-placed in a high orbit than sitting on the ground. With a sigh of frustration and impatience, Duggan sat back and waited.
Chapter Twenty-One
Duggan had initially expected a delay of a few minutes. Those minutes stretched to an hour and then two. All the while, Space Corps warships circled the planet high overhead and the Ghasts came ever closer. Duggan tried twice more to get in touch with Admiral Franks and was met with the same lack of success as before.
“I can force open a channel, if you like?” said Chainer eventually.
Duggan had reached the stage where he was angry. He was reluctant to allow his anger to dictate his response, so he shook his head. When he felt the need, he’d go direct to Teron. “We’re waiting another hour and then I’ll resolve this,” he said.
Ten minutes passed and Duggan couldn’t recall an occasion when time had moved so slowly. Each second was excruciating and he suppressed the urge to leave the bridge in order to stretch his legs and relieve some of the tension. In the end, he was glad he didn’t, since Commander McGlashan said something which led his mind to a new idea.
“When you spoke to Gol-Tur, he mentioned they’d obtained the coordinates of Atlantis from one of our envoys,” she said.
“That’s what he told me. Jin Buckner was the man’s name – it’s not someone I’ve heard of,” said Duggan.
“I looked up his records when you first mentioned him,” she said. “Out of curiosity, nothing more. It seems he was a military man for nearly twenty years.”
“That wouldn’t surprise me in the slightest,” said Duggan.
“And he’d memorised the coordinates for Atlantis,” she stated.
“Apparently so,” Duggan replied, wondering where she was heading with this.
“Which of the two sets of coordinates do you think he gave?” she asked.
An internal alarm sounded in Duggan’s head, letting him know McGlashan was getting onto something significant. “I don’t know,” he said.
“The planetary ones or the navigational ones?” she pressed.
“If he told them the navigational coordinates, there’s a chance we’ll be able to intercept them much further out,” he said. He felt a sudden excitement, without yet knowing the best way to take advantage of this important possibility.
“When I was at the academy, we were only ever shown the navigational coordinates,” said McGlashan. “The planetary coordinates appeared in the datafiles, but we were never asked to refer to them. It was all about how to ensure your warship arrived a safe distance away from your destination.”
Duggan’s excitement grew. Every planet logged by the Space Corps, populated or not, had two sets of coordinates. The planetary coordinates were the precise location of the planet itself. The navigational coordinates were a short distance away from the planet and were meant to be where an arriving spaceship targeted itself when it broke out of lightspeed. The navigational coordinates were a set distance away from the planet and were designed as a safety buffer. As technology advanced, lightspeed travel became much more accurate and most spacecraft openly ignored the navigational coordinates, in order to arrive much closer to their destination. Nevertheless, the Space Corps continued to use navigational coordinates and expected its captains to observe them.
“The Ghasts could arrive two or three hours further away than they’re expecting,” said Breeze.
“Won’t they just do a short lightspeed hop to carry them the rest of the way?” asked Chainer.
“Almost certainly,” said Duggan. “However, there’ll be a delay during which they’ll have to make a decision and then prepare for the jump.”
“A short delay,” said Chainer.
“It gives us something to go on,” said McGlashan.
“Sir, I’ve got Admiral Franks on the comms,” said Chainer.
“At last. Bring her through.”
Duggan had met Franks only a single time before, but he recognized her slight drawl at once. “Captain Duggan,” she said, tiredness evident in her voice. “I’m sorry it’s taken so long to respond. There have been one or two failings which prevented the details of your message getting to me. There has been a lot to organise.”
“Do we have clearance to launch, Admiral?”
“Yes, of course. I’ve provided Colonel Jabran with the authorisation codes he needed. You should be free to join us in the next few minutes.”
“Admiral Franks, I notice you’ve set up the defensive shield close to the planet.”
“We anticipate the Ghasts will exit lightspeed no more than an hour away. Our current position gives us time to intercept.”
“Sir, with respect, a Space Corps warship would arrive an hour away, since its crew would have sufficient knowledge to be able to do so. It’s my belief the Ghasts will aim to arrive close to the navigational coordinates. They are ignorant of our conventions when it comes to space travel.”
Admiral Franks was quick on the uptake. “They might arrive several hours distant. You think we should aim to intercept at the navigational coordinates?”
“That was my first thought, Admiral. Then I realised that only one of their warships would need to make a short lightspeed jump towards Atlantis and then it could deliver its payload without challenge. Even if we split the fleet, there are risks.”
“Thank you for your insight, Captain Duggan. The fleet will remain where it is. If the Ghasts have access to the planetary coordinates, we’ll have a chance to defeat them if we stay where we are. A small chance is better than no chance at all.”
“I think that is the best plan. However, with your permission, I would like to fly to the navigational coordinates in order to attempt communication with the Ghasts when they arrive – to ensure they are aware of Gol-Tur’s orders.”
“Your request is denied, Captain Duggan. If they are in a warlike frame of mind, they may well decide to shoot first rather than listen. Once they’ve committed to violence, the chance of them backing down is diminished.”
“I agree, which is why I’d like clearance to take the ES Lightning - the stealth modules will keep us hidden and prevent the Ghasts launching their missiles at us. At the very least, the arrival of their fleet at the navigational coordinates will be easier to detect if we have a ship in the vicinity. It might take several minutes for our warships to spot the Ghasts when they’re a few
hours distant.”
“The ES Lightning isn’t ready to fly. They’re in the process of refitting it.”
“It got us from Corai to Atlantis. If its critical systems have been left in place, I’m willing to take the gamble.”
“But am I willing to take the gamble?” she replied, not expecting Duggan to respond. Admiral Franks made up her mind. “Very well. I’ll authorise the release of the ES Lightning from its dock. If it’ll fly, get out there and see if you can speak to the Ghasts. Whatever happens, keep close to them and inform the Archimedes as to their precise location.”
“Thank you.”
“What makes you think they’ll listen to you?”
“I don’t know if they will,” admitted Duggan. “Nil-Far is with them and he’s loyal to his superiors. There’s a chance I’ll be able to sway him.”
“It isn’t Nil-Far we should worry about, is it?”
“I’ll take that as it comes, sir.”
“Very well. Do your best, Captain Duggan.”
As soon as Admiral Franks had gone, Duggan surged to his feet. “Come on, let’s get going.”
“Do you think they’ve patched up the Lightning enough?” asked Chainer.
“We’ll soon find out. Speak with Tillos and make sure they know exactly what is happening.”
“What about the guys below?”
Duggan opened a channel to Lieutenant Ortiz. “The Ghasts are coming to Atlantis and I’ve got two choices for you. Do you want to stay on the ground and see what happens when they drop incendiaries into the atmosphere, or do you want to come with us to the ES Lightning which may well break into pieces when we take off?”
“We’ll come with you, sir,” she said without hesitation.
“You’re going to be standing on each other’s toes. There are forty-three of you and bunks for less than twenty.”
“They can take turns.”
He hadn’t for a moment expected her to stay on the planet. “Get to the forward boarding ramp. You’ve got about five minutes.”
“We’ll be there in three,” she said.
Duggan led the crew away from the bridge, towards the forward boarding ramp. The urgency of the situation added impetus to their dash through the narrow corridors of the Proximal. True to her word, Ortiz had the ship’s complement of troops ready to leave. One or two looked as if they’d been recently woken from sleep, while most were alert and ready for action. Duggan exchanged words with one or two as he shouldered his way to the release panel for the ramp. With a grinding scrape, the ramp dropped away from the hull and thick, humid air washed in from outside.
“Move!” shouted Ortiz.
They moved, quickly and efficiently off the ship. The lifts groaned under the weight of the soldiers and crew, who crammed themselves into the metal cylinders. At the top, there weren’t enough vehicles to take them across to the ES Lightning in the adjacent trench. The lucky ones, including Duggan and his crew, got themselves a car. The others had to run the kilometre or so to the Lightning’s berth. The hull was a mess of activity – luckily the maintenance and repair crews were moving away from the warship, instead of towards it.
“If there’s anyone too slow to get off, they’ll have to come with us,” said Duggan.
“Might be a few of them would prefer that,” said Breeze.
“I very much doubt they know what’s coming,” said McGlashan.
“Yeah, I suppose not.”
“Poor bastards,” said Chainer. “We’re not going to let them down.”
“No,” said Duggan, desperately hoping he could make it true.
There was little of the ES Lightning visible above the top of the trench. Duggan pulled the car up as close to the edge as he could manage and sprinted for the lift. While he ran, he cast his eyes over the battered warship. They’d started the repairs and most of the dents in the armour had been filled with alloy. The once-molten metal had hardened, but hadn’t yet been shaped and blended into the surrounding areas of the hull. The effect was one of misshapen lumps, with a mismatch of dull grey and gleaming silver.
“It doesn’t need to look good in order to fly,” panted Chainer as he joined Duggan in the lift, alongside a dozen others.
There were plenty of people at the bottom of the trench. They carried diagnostic equipment and portable interfaces to allow them to control the cranes and repair robots. Most of the technicians looked worried and one of them – a senior man by his uniform – stopped Duggan.
“You know what you’re getting into, don’t you?” he asked.
“No. Tell me.”
“We’ve made the hull structurally sound, though you might not think so to look at it. Unfortunately, there’s a persistent problem with the life support modules. We’ve brought them all back online, yet they keep shutting off at random intervals. We’ve run extensive tests without finding out the cause. In these cases, we’d usually do a complete replacement and package the damaged units off to the factory for a total strip-down.”
“Why haven’t you done so?”
“Time, Captain. We’ve not had the time.”
“If it’ll fly, we have to take the chance.”
“It’ll fly. For how long, I can’t guarantee. Why is it so important? Give us a few more days and we’ll have the old replaced with new.”
“This can’t wait,” said Duggan. “We need everyone off the ship at once. We’re leaving as soon as I can get to the bridge and warm everything up.”
The technician gave him a curious stare. “In that case, I wish you good luck.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
The bridge was in a worse state than they’d left it. Whoever had been working here had gone in such a hurry they’d not had time to clear away a collection of dirty trays and cups. Chainer could be surprisingly fastidious and he gathered them into a pile, which he placed in one corner.
“They’ve not removed the tray Commander McGlashan stuck over the warning alarm,” he said, taking his seat. “They’ve managed to get the light turned off, though.”
Duggan brought his console online and checked through a few of the onboard systems. “There’re plenty of amber warnings here,” he said. “I’m preparing us for an emergency departure. I want a detailed breakdown of which areas give the greatest concern.”
“We’re still on backup comms,” said Chainer immediately. “That shouldn’t cause us significant problems since we’ll be staying reasonably close to the other warships of the fleet. There’ll be a second or two delay at most.”
“The life support modules are green,” said Breeze.
“I wouldn’t trust what you see.”
“I won’t. Just letting you know what the current status is, sir. There’s reduced output from the engines as well. Nothing too significant.”
“What about the stealth modules?”
“They’re in perfect working order.”
Duggan nodded. He sent the command to the ship’s AI for it to start up the engines. The entire spaceship rumbled and shuddered for a few seconds before settling into the familiar hum. Gauges moved towards their operating positions and various status screens showed rolling lists of updates.
“I can’t see any signs of imminent failure,” said McGlashan.
“Except the life support,” said Chainer.
“Are the external gantries clear?” asked Duggan.
“They’re moving the last one away now.”
“Lieutenant Ortiz, please confirm you’re in place.”
“Everyone present and accounted for, sir.”
“Excellent, we’ll be departing shortly.”
“Sir, we’ve got unexpected guests onboard,” said Breeze, examining the life support display.
“Use the internal comms and tell them to leave,” said Duggan.
“It’s mice, sir. Three of them.”
“I hate mice,” said McGlashan. “I thought the Space Corps was meant to have strict anti-vermin controls in place?”
“Someone can deal w
ith it when we get back,” said Duggan. “Let Lieutenant Ortiz know. It might keep the soldiers occupied.”
“Shooting mice?” asked Chainer. “They’ll love that.”
“I wasn’t planning on gunfire, no,” said Duggan drily. “I’m sure they can come up with a less dangerous method to root out our uninvited rodents.”
It wasn’t long until the ES Lightning was ready to go. The hull was clear, but there were still repair crews in the vicinity, hurrying to put distance between themselves and the warship. Duggan had no desire to cause injury, so he activated the autopilot. The engines hummed with increased intensity and the spaceship lifted slowly from its trench. As soon as it was clear, the autopilot rotated the vessel until it was pointing towards the navigational coordinates for Atlantis. All the while, it continued to climb, through the low-lying clouds and into the clear sky above. Blue turned smoothly into black as they climbed above the lower atmosphere. Duggan took over the controls and increased the engine output. In other circumstances, he’d have pushed them immediately to one hundred percent. He was wary of doing so, given how much damage the Lightning had recently sustained. There was no need for worry – the warship’s engines reached their maximum available output without drama.
“Are we doing a quick hop to get where we’re going or are we sticking to the gravity drives?” asked Breeze.
“We’ll do a hop,” said Duggan. “The AI core on the Lightning should be able to get us close. I wouldn’t want to risk it with the Proximal.”
“I’ll communicate our plans to the Archimedes,” said Chainer. “We’re patched into the local comms network.”
“What’s the total ship count?” asked Duggan.
“The Archimedes, the Maximilian, the Rampage, nine Anderlechts and fifty-eight Gunners.”
“It’ll be carnage – on both sides.”
“Everyone loses,” said McGlashan. “Most of all the people on Atlantis.”
“If this goes wrong, the Dreamers will find significantly less opposition from both ourselves and the Ghasts,” said Duggan. “So let’s make sure it doesn’t go wrong.”
Fires of Oblivion Page 15
