Guns of the Valpian

by Anthony James

  Duggan saw that Weiss really did care beneath her hard shell. “Do what you can, Corporal.”

  “I will, sir.” She hesitated. “If you can make the transit without Commander McGlashan, I’d recommend you prepare for that eventuality.”

  They weren’t the words Duggan wanted to hear. He kept his head bowed for a few moments longer, before he headed for the exit.

  It was time for his break and he headed for one of the replicators. He spent five minutes attempting to copy the gestures Lieutenant Chainer had finally agreed to show him. After the machine disgorged a dozen trays of mush, Duggan gave it a kick and went to look for a room. He passed a few of his squad members on the way and he forced himself to greet them in the manner they expected from their captain.

  There was one room available in the officer’s area of the Valpian. Duggan sat himself on the bed and watched one of the alien videos for a short time. It depicted rows of tanks with elaborately angular hulls scudding easily across the red rocks of an unknown planet. He switched it off. Either the Valpian’s databanks had been purposely loaded with only propaganda footage, or the Dreamers were even more warlike than he’d assumed.

  Although he felt exhausted, Duggan was convinced he wouldn’t sleep. He lay on his side and closed his eyes for a time, expecting the turmoil in his brain to keep him awake until he was driven from the bed. He cursed the human body for its inability to realise what was best for it. Before he knew it, he was asleep. Instead of wandering through terrible nightmares, Duggan’s mind remained in a never-ending darkness which he found strangely soothing.

  When he opened his eyes, he knew at once he’d overslept. He rolled out of bed, two hours late for his scheduled return to duty. Panic gripped him and he ran to the medical bay, convinced something bad had happened.

  When he arrived, Commander McGlashan was exactly where he’d left her. The medical robot had decided to insert a fourth needle, this time into her arm. The metal appendages made it a struggle for Duggan to reach the bedside. He stroked her cheek in the hope there would be signs of warmth. There were none and he returned to the bridge, fully expecting to be admonished by Chainer or Breeze. They didn’t bother.

  “I hope you slept well, sir,” said Breeze without irony. “You deserve it.”

  “I got you a steak,” said Chainer, pointing to Duggan’s seat. “It’s probably gone cold now.”

  “Thank you, Lieutenant,” said Duggan, picking up the tray. There was half a cow on it, covering a pile of potatoes. It was cold, but Duggan didn’t care. “How have you been getting on?” he asked. Before leaving for his break, he’d asked Breeze to figure out a way to get the Valpian through the wormhole.

  “I think I might have something,” said Breeze.

  Duggan fixed him with a stare. “Go on.”

  “Don’t get too excited! It’s only a theory.”

  “I’ll take anything, Lieutenant. Even a half-cooked guess.”

  “If I’m correct it’ll be good news for us, but distinctly bad news for humanity.”

  Duggan sighed. “That doesn’t surprise me. What have you unearthed?”

  “We know the Dreamers have been finding it difficult to get their ships reliably through the wormhole and we’ve theorised it’s because their warships are not as solidly built as our own. We believe they rely on their energy shields for combat and therefore the hulls on their spacecraft are not designed strongly enough to withstand the stresses of the transit.”

  “We can’t be sure any of it is true.”

  “Of course,” Breeze acknowledged. “I believe the Valpian is built differently, sir.”

  “How so?”

  “I’ve found some of the engine schematics. I don’t understand everything, but I can see they’ve made them as solid as you’d find on a Space Corps vessel. In fact, their engines are denser than ours, so the Valpian can likely withstand moderately greater pressure than the Crimson could tolerate.”

  “There is plenty of interior space in comparison to the Crimson!”

  “In percentage terms, there’s actually little difference. The size of the Valpian’s rear hangar is where my theory falls flat. Anyway, I was kind of talking my way to the real reason, sir. The solidity of the Valpian is an indication they were aware of the problem. I think they’ve cracked it by other means.”

  Duggan took a guess. “The energy shield?”

  “Exactly!” Breeze’s eyes glowed as they often did when he got excited about something. “You told me the Dreamers’ own particle beams couldn’t penetrate the Valpian’s shields.”

  “I didn’t know if that was anything new,” said Duggan.

  “The shields can’t block everything, sir. If they had a sufficiently large power supply and enough processing speed to back it up, they could block most things for a short time. I believe the shields on the warships we’ve encountered so far are designed mainly to block explosives and are incapable of being put to other uses. I think the ones on the Valpian can do a whole lot more.”

  “We’re carrying one of those Gallenium rocks,” said Duggan. “It’s under a hatch elsewhere on the ship.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me? We’ve got more power than we know what to do with. That rock must be powering the shield.”

  Breeze was getting carried away with his ideas and Duggan attempted to bring him back on track.

  “Will our shield get us through the wormhole?”

  “I think so. Not on its own – I believe it will allow us to get close enough to the centre that when we activate our fission drives we’ll jump directly through, rather than remaining in enemy space.”

  “Can you set it up for us?”

  “I’m nearly there. It’s nothing too technical - the ship has been designed to do most of the work.”

  Duggan ran his fingers through his hair. “We’re not going to have an easy time of it. I’m sure the area will be swarming with enemy warships.”

  “We’re fast. If we can get close enough to the wormhole, we’ll jump through. Any missiles on our tail will be crushed at the proximity we’re talking about.”

  “I hope you’re right, Lieutenant. We need to get this ship home. Not only for us, but because it’ll give the Space Corps and Ghast navies a ten or twenty year research boost. I’m convinced there’s more to it than just a good shield as well. They’ve sent other ships through. Why are they so determined to get the Valpian back?”

  “I’ll keep looking,” said Breeze. “If it’s a weapons system, we might not find how to access it until the labs can brute force their way into the memory banks, and that will take time.”

  “Let me know if anything new turns up, Lieutenant.”

  Duggan tried to get himself comfortable and he readied himself for what he hoped would be the final obstacle to their escape. There were undoubtedly challenges ahead of them and they’d surely be difficult to overcome. If they escaped, the Space Corps would see the mission as a total success. For Duggan, it wasn’t so straightforward and he could not envisage any sort of victory in which Commander McGlashan died to achieve it.

  He sat, quietly brooding.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  More than a day went by, the hours wrung out and stretched until the passing of each one became a cause for minor celebration. Duggan visited McGlashan twice and on the third time found himself shooed away by Corporal Weiss who became impatient with his questions. During these visits, he was able to glean that the conditions of neither Lieutenant Ortiz nor Commander McGlashan had changed. Duggan felt guilty he was unable to do anything other than stare helplessly and with grim amusement he reflected how much McGlashan would admonish him for such stupidity.

  He gathered the soldiers in the mess room and explained how they were going to attempt a transit to Confederation space. He expected feigned indifference, only to find human and Ghast alike professing relief at the idea. They’d had enough and needed hope for an end.

  After he dismissed the squad, Duggan returned to the bridge. Lieute
nant Chainer was nowhere to be found, whilst Lieutenant Breeze was poking around the Valpian’s weapons systems. It wasn’t exactly his field, but like most experienced officers he’d spent time doing something of everything.

  “Their missiles can be set to target either other vessels or incoming missiles,” he said. “It’s quite ingenious and allows them to carry extra warheads instead of loading up with shock drones or similar.”

  “I was aware of the facility but I couldn’t get it to activate without taking excessive time,” said Duggan. “In combat, it seemed better to rely on shields.”

  “It’s another option, sir. Commander McGlashan should be able to make use of it. I notice the shields degrade when they absorb an impact and then slowly recharge. I don’t know what will happen if we attempt to go through the wormhole with the shields nearly drained. The result is unlikely to be favourable.”

  “I’m intrigued by the particle beam,” said Duggan. “When we were held in place by the Antrajis station, I got the feeling the enemy battleship didn’t want to come into particle beam range.”

  “Maybe they preferred not to trade blows with a ship they wanted to recapture.”

  “You’re probably right. Anyway, the particle beams I fired at the Antrajis hangar bay doors were powerful and they were very good against smaller vessels. They couldn’t take out a five thousand metre battleship quickly. In fact, they were much less powerful than the ones onboard the Dreamer mothership. I’m probably hoping to find something that isn’t there.”

  “We might find a Planet Breaker, buried away in the hull somewhere.”

  “I think we’ve already moved on from that particular weapon, Lieutenant. The Ghasts have incendiaries which can burn entire worlds without destroying the planet. The Space Corps will have the same thing in a year or two, I’m sure. We’re back to the same situation we had with the Ghasts – trying to counter the enemy’s technological advances while hoping our populated worlds remain hidden.”

  “Cat and mouse.”

  “They’ve got a few warships through the wormhole already. We’re running out of time to come up with something.”

  “Even if the Valpian does have an unknown weapon or other capability, the Dreamers built it, so they can surely add it to more ships. They have the resources.”

  “They don’t have the stealth modules. Imagine what the Valpian could do if we equipped it with those! We wouldn’t need to creep around, hoping for the enemy to overlook us. The stealth tech is the best thing we’ve come up with in a century, yet it’s only a defensive weapon.” Duggan felt himself warming to his speech. “Think of what we could do to the bastards if we added the modules to this vessel. We’d have speed, firepower and surprise.”

  “It would feel like cheating,” said Breeze, only half seriously.

  Duggan laughed. “It would feel like cheating, but you know what? I could live with myself.”

  “Yes, me too.”

  They were lost in their thoughts for a moment.

  “How long until we reach our destination?” asked Duggan.

  Breeze didn’t even bother to look at his console. “Eight hours.”

  “Where’s Lieutenant Chainer?”

  “Off somewhere, probably drinking coffee or sleeping. He’s due back on duty any time now.”

  Duggan had slept a few hours previously and knew he wouldn’t get another chance before they attempted the wormhole. It was bad timing on his part and he hoped he wouldn’t be off his peak when the fighting started.

  A sound made him turn – someone was coming up the steps leading to the bridge. The footsteps were slow and laboured. A figure appeared in the doorway and spoke, the words soft and quiet.

  “Reporting for duty.”

  “Lucy?” said Duggan, jumping to his feet.

  She looked terrible, her skin even paler than usual and her eyes sunken like those of a corpse. She swayed and reached out for the wall to steady herself.

  Duggan got there and put his arm about her shoulder to stop her from falling.

  “I’m fine,” she wheezed. “Just a little weak.”

  “You should be in bed,” said Duggan. “Lieutenant Breeze, speak to Corporal Weiss and find out why she let the commander out of the medical bay!”

  McGlashan sagged. “I need to sit.”

  Duggan half-dragged her to one of the vacant chairs and she fell into it. “You need to rest,” he said.

  “Corporal Weiss told me we’re going to attempt a transit soon. I figured you might need some help.”

  Duggan took a deep breath. “You’re in no fit state to help, Commander.”

  “My mind is working perfectly,” she said, her voice stronger than it had been moments before. “The walk here took it out of me. I’ll be fine once I’ve had a chance to rest.”

  Corporal Weiss arrived, looking flustered. “Apologies, sir. I didn’t know the commander was awake.”

  “Get her to the medical bay at once.”

  “Stop!” said McGlashan. “I can do this!”

  Duggan studied her face and saw the trembling in her shoulders. “No. You can’t.”

  McGlashan faced him and the anger was evident. “Yes, sir. I can.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “You can’t make me sit this one out.”

  Duggan was rooted to the spot, as though a thousand pairs of eyes watched him carefully to see what his reaction would be. She blames me, he thought. I can deal with that later. I have to do the best for everyone.

  He opened his mouth to give the order for McGlashan to be taken to the medical bay. He found himself speaking different words to those he intended. “Corporal Weiss, I want you to do whatever you can to keep the commander at her station.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Commander McGlashan? You can stay here and you have approximately eight hours to prove you’re up to the task. If you suffer a relapse or if I think you’re not physically capable of doing your duty, you go back to the medical bay without argument. Do you understand?”

  Her eyes gleamed. “Yes, sir.”

  “Now damnit, get yourself up to speed with that weapons console. We’ll need to be on top of our game if we’re to come out of this one alive!”

  Weiss hurried away to find supplies. Chainer chose this moment to return from his break. He took his seat without batting an eyelid and took a sip from his coffee.

  “Hello, Commander.”

  “Hello, Lieutenant. Could you get me one of those? My mouth is a little dry.”

  Chainer sprang up. “Certainly, Commander! I’ll be right back!”

  “Since when did you start drinking coffee?” asked Breeze.

  She shrugged in response and tried to smile. “Who’s going to give me the lowdown on how this Dreamer stuff works?”

  “I’ll do it,” said Duggan. He crouched next to her and began giving a crash course on the weapons console. McGlashan smelled strange and sweet – it wasn’t entirely pleasant. It was an odour Duggan knew well. He remembered badly-injured soldiers whose breaths had carried the same scent shortly before they died. Duggan heard his voice crack and it was a struggle to resist the urge to wrap his arms around her.

  McGlashan said little as he talked. She picked everything up as quickly as ever – she was an astoundingly astute learner. After an hour, she was operating the console smoothly enough and began to ask questions which Duggan couldn’t answer easily.

  Weiss showed up at some point in the training and plugged McGlashan into a medical box. It bleeped softly and soothingly. Duggan raised a questioning eyebrow and Weiss shrugged in response. The unspoken message was clear: I have no idea why she’s awake. She should probably be dead.

  It wasn’t an alternative Duggan wished to contemplate. Therefore, he continued with his teaching, even though McGlashan was already as competent as he.

  “I think I know what I’m doing, sir,” she said, waving him away. “I’ve got another six hours to see if I can figure out any of the unknowns.”

  “What unknown
s are these?” asked Chainer. “I only like unknowns when I find out what they are.”

  “We really need someone to check your brains,” said Breeze. “They had a tenuous enough grasp on reality as it was. I dread to think what’s happened to them since you took a beating.”

  Chainer did his best to look affronted and failed completely. “My brains work perfectly.”

  “We’ve got two locked down weapons systems and a secondary mode on the front particle beam,” said McGlashan. “It’s taking some time to figure out how to get access to them, if indeed we can.”

  “There’s got to be a set of disruptors in there somewhere,” said Breeze.

  “Agreed.”

  They got on with it. Between them, they could operate the Valpian at an acceptable level. After that came the fine-tuning, which could make all the difference where an engagement was decided one way or another by split-second reactions. The fine-tuning came over years and months, rather than hours. Even so, Duggan was happy to have these extra few hours.

  Every so often, he watched McGlashan from the corner of his eye. She was sitting in the seat to his left and occasionally closed her eyes as though she was exhausted beyond measure. Once, he noticed her entire body tremble violently and she gripped the edges of her seat to stop from falling. In other circumstances, he would have banned her from working on the bridge until she was able to demonstrate a substantial improvement in her condition. Here, he felt there was no choice other than to give her a chance. A part of him asked if he was treating her differently because of who she was. The question made him uncomfortable and he had no answer.

  “Fifteen minutes until we enter local space,” said Breeze.

  “Is everyone clear on what’s expected?”

  Three voices responded. “Yes, sir.”

  “We’re on the finest of edges,” said Duggan. “If we fall to the wrong side, we’ll lose everything we’ve fought for. All of this crap will have been for absolutely nothing. Those bases we destroyed and that fleet we wiped out won’t matter a jot. If we get it right, we’ll make a difference and there’s nobody can ask more from us.”