Terminus Gate (Survival Wars Book 5)

by Anthony James

  Duggan knew what the Ghast referred to – the meaning underlying the words. “The Dreamers will come.”

  “They will come, Captain Duggan. For us and for you. There is nothing we can do to stop them, so we must fight.”

  “You want more than just peace.”

  “We do. My species has suffered terrible losses in our conflict with the Confederation. It is nothing compared to what will come. We will face it, like we face every threat. This is something we do not wish to fight alone.”

  “I can promise you will have peace with humanity. I don’t have the authority to approve a formal military alliance.”

  “Is a military alliance something you would personally accept?”

  “I think we have no choice.”

  The Ghast nodded. “You are correct. Together we will lose, though we will be a much greater opponent than if we stand apart.”

  “You are certain the Dreamers are a foe beyond our combined resources to defeat or repel?”

  “They are and I will tell you why.”

  Duggan sat bolt upright when he heard those words. They confirmed the Ghasts knew much more about the Dreamers than they’d previously admitted. “What do you know?” he asked.

  Chapter Seven

  “You once believed we were allied to the Dreamers,” said Gol-Tur. “Later, you came to ask questions about the presence of their pyramid on our home world Vempor. The reality is, we are one and the same. You refer to us as Ghasts and them as Dreamers. In truth, we call ourselves Estral.”

  Many questions surged up in Duggan’s mind. “Why are you fighting each other?” he asked.

  “There is much that is in the past. In short, there was a schism and millions of us separated from the others. It was not amicable and we came far to ensure the others would never find us again.”

  “How long ago did this happen?”

  “It happened almost four hundred years ago. We journeyed for a hundred years, until finally we discovered a place to settle. Many years later, we encountered the Confederation.”

  Duggan found his hand venturing towards his head, ready to scratch it. He brought his arm down quickly. “The Dreamers are far more advanced than you,” he said.

  “Our empire was vast and rich with resources. We fled to a place where we had nothing bar the ships we came on. It is difficult to begin again.”

  “You came on ships?” asked Duggan, wondering what monstrous vessels would have been required to carry millions.

  “We did – on many self-supporting transport vessels. Our history reports several generations died and were born on the journey, until we came here. The transports were broken up long ago, and the parts used to create our factories. For a long time, we were hampered by a shortage of the material you call Gallenium. Without it, there was little we could do to advance. We overcame that obstacle and you have seen the result.”

  Duggan had seen the result. The Ghast technology had advanced with terrifying speed, until they’d been on the brink of exterminating humanity. “The Dreamers have something of a head start on you.”

  “The Estral empire spanned many galaxies. I dread to think what it has become.”

  “Why have they come now?”

  “I am sure it is nothing other than random chance – our joint misfortune. They have found a way to traverse the wormhole, which has brought them close to us. If our two fleets had not been near the Helius Blackstar, the enemy might never have known how close they were to us.”

  Duggan opened his mouth to ask a question, then found himself asking something completely different to what he’d intended. “The Space Corps believes your technology advanced so quickly because you recovered some pieces of a broken Dreamer spacecraft – in the same way we used parts of their wreckage in the construction of the ESS Crimson.”

  Gol-Tur smiled again, showing a row of straight, white teeth. “We found a number of components which assisted our research laboratories.”

  “Didn’t you realise you’d found parts of a spaceship built by your own race?” asked Duggan.

  “We found metal, not bodies, John Duggan. There was nothing to link the two.”

  “What a strange situation we find ourselves in.”

  “It is not so strange. Everything is a circle. It was inevitable we would meet our parent race. It is bad luck for the Confederation that you will be drawn into the resulting conflict.”

  “The Confederation will survive,” Duggan said, with unexpected determination. “We humans are a species who are content to meander until we are forced to do otherwise. Over the last few years, we have accomplished feats which I would never have thought possible. We will not accept extinction.”

  “You have perfected a way to cloak your warships.”

  “We have,” said Duggan. “There will be more to come from our labs, given time.”

  “Let us drink to that,” said Gol-Tur, reaching beneath his desk. He pulled out a decanter of the Ghast spirit Grask and two glasses. When the liquid was poured, Duggan took his glass and raised it. If the gesture confused Gol-Tur, he didn’t let on and the Ghast took a sip from his own glass.

  “What now?” asked Duggan.

  “My time is short – I am due to attend another meeting with your people soon. Until then, I will enjoy the coolness of the spirit. Once the accord is signed, I will take the Trivanor and the other warships elsewhere.”

  “To look for Dreamers?”

  “Not yet. The time will come.”

  “I will return to Fleet Admiral Teron with details of what we have discussed, and give him my recommendation that our two fleets commence joint exercises in preparation for the return of our common enemy.”

  “Admiral Teron is driven,” said Gol-Tur.

  “He is,” Duggan replied. “It is rare for him to wait when there is an opportunity to act.”

  “Will he prepare against the Dreamers, even though their mothership is gone?”

  “He will have a dozen plans in motion, I am sure,” said Duggan.

  Gol-Tur nodded, as if this was all the reassurance he needed. “You should return to your ship.”

  Within the hour, Duggan was back on the bridge of the Castigate, breathing in the scent of the real leather chairs and doing his best to answer questions from his crew.

  “We came all this way for you to spend twenty minutes chatting to one of the Ghast leaders?” asked Breeze.

  “For some reason, I feel as if much was accomplished. I don’t know why – perhaps it was because Gol-Tur was willing to speak openly. On top of that, he revealed his worries about the future. I haven’t spoken to many Ghasts, but that’s the first time I can remember them showing what some people might call weakness or uncertainty.”

  “It’s not really a weakness,” said McGlashan.

  “I didn’t say it was,” Duggan replied. “I heard enough to know he accepts our two races are allies.”

  “Should we have a celebration or something?” asked Chainer doubtfully. “We’ve been fighting them for more than thirty years, yet it doesn’t feel right that we start the applause.”

  “It’s been coming for so long that the excitement’s gone,” said McGlashan. “That doesn’t mean I’m not happy, you understand.”

  “Maybe it’ll feel better once it’s sunk in,” said Breeze.

  “The fighting won’t end,” said Duggan. “There’s going to be a pause, but rest assured it’ll resume.”

  “That’s probably why I’m not feeling too happy,” said Chainer. “It’s not really peace, is it? We’ve just swapped one enemy for another. One bunch of Ghasts for another lot of bigger, stronger Ghasts, who happen to have even more warships.”

  Breeze and McGlashan muttered their agreement and they fell quiet for a time.

  “How long do we have to sit here?” asked Chainer eventually.

  “Admiral Teron didn’t say.”

  “They could take weeks,” said Breeze.

  “We’ll be dead from boredom by then.”

&nbs
p; “Here’s something to cheer you up, sir,” said Chainer. “I’ve got Admiral Teron on the comms for you.”

  “Pass him through.”

  “Captain Duggan?” said Teron.

  “Yes, sir?”

  “It’s done. Gol-Tur has accepted the proposals for a permanent peace between our two species.”

  “That’s great, sir.”

  “You’re not happy?”

  “I’m too old to live for the moment. I know this is only the beginning.”

  Teron gave one of his gruff laughs. “A man after my own heart. Fine, I wasn’t expecting you to clap your hands or anything like that.” The levity faded from his voice. “Do you recall the details of our last conversation?”

  “Where you asked if I would stand up for something you had in mind?”

  “That’s the one. The time is coming, John.”

  “It didn’t take long.”

  “We’ve detected activity at the Helius Blackstar.”

  “More trouble?”

  “I wouldn’t be speaking to you if it wasn’t.”

  “What sort of trouble?”

  “We installed low-profile monitoring stations on the nearest planets some months ago – as soon as we were sure the coast was clear after the mothership first appeared. One of the stations detected something making a successful transit of the Blackstar.”

  “They were certain it was successful?”

  “Absolutely. They detected a large object moving extremely quickly away from the gravitational pull. They couldn’t get a solid lock on it. Whatever it was, it detected this particular monitoring station and destroyed it, though not before we received the news of this unknown vessel’s arrival.”

  “Was it only the one, sir?”

  “We can’t be sure. There may have been others which slipped through. The loss of that monitoring station left a hole in our sensor net.”

  “Have you told the Ghasts?”

  “Not yet. That’s the next thing on my list.”

  Duggan wanted to hit something. “Nothing has changed, has it?”

  “No, it has not.”

  “What do you want us to do?”

  “You’re going to rendezvous with the MHL Gargantua. You might have seen it recently at Atlantis.”

  “Yes, sir. Are they still carrying the Crimson?”

  “They’ve had it three days and by the time you reach them, they’ll have had it for another eleven. They’re making a number of internal modifications.”

  “Sir, you’re being evasive.”

  “There’s a mission for you, John. For you and your crew. I thought we had more time. The arrival of our enemy through the Blackstar means I need to take a gamble. You need to take a gamble.”

  Cold, hard dread seeped into Duggan’s bones. Admiral Teron often took his time to get to the point. This was different, like he was fearful to admit what he had planned.

  “Admiral, I trust your judgement. If there are extreme dangers, I’m sure the mission is a critical one.”

  Teron didn’t answer at once, and Duggan got the impression he was steeling himself for what he was about to say. At last, he spoke.

  “John, you’re going to try and fly through the wormhole.”

  Whatever Duggan had expected to hear, it wasn’t that. He looked at the other three and saw his own shock reflected in their faces.

  Chapter Eight

  “Do you remember our previous discussions?” said Teron. “I told you that if it ever came to war again, I’d do everything I could to fight it as hard and aggressively as I could. I made it clear I’d take the fight to our enemies. We’re at that point already. Our enemies have arrived and each passing day increases the chance they’ll send more to reinforce the others. The vessel our monitoring station detected wasn’t another mothership – we suspect it was a battleship. This means they’re getting closer to the stage where they can send their entire fleet through if they wish. Each successful transit puts an advanced, hostile warship amongst us. The worst thing of it is, we don’t know if their last incursion managed to transmit their intelligence to their home planets. They might know where Atlantis is located, or Sinnar. They could descend upon our worlds at any moment and we’ll have little chance to repel them.”

  “You’re saying we’re screwed, sir?” asked Duggan.

  “No, that is not what I’m saying. What I’m telling you is that we’re not going to sit on our hands and hope the Dreamers disperse into space and we never see them again. You’re going to see what’s on the other side of that wormhole and provide us with the knowledge. This time, we’ll act first!”

  “We’ve never managed to get anything through the wormhole, sir,” Duggan protested, knowing that Teron would have an answer to the objection.

  “The reason is partly because we’ve rarely tried. We threw a couple of probes at the Blackstar a dozen years ago. They vanished, but we don’t know if they were destroyed, or simply ended up too far away for their comms signals to return.”

  “I can’t risk the life of my crew on the basis that a couple of probes might have got through!”

  “I’m not asking you to.” A note of bleak humour crept into Teron’s voice. “Believe it or not I have humanity and compassion.”

  “I know that, sir.”

  “The gravitational force of the wormhole increases as you get closer to it. Our scientists believe that with sufficient structural strength, a warship can get to a position where activating its fission engines will fire the craft into the wormhole, rather than past it. They further believe that a vessel with sufficient capability will be able to break free from the gravitation pull on the other side in order to make a clean escape.”

  “If it’s so straightforward, why haven’t an advanced race such as the Dreamers been able to do it reliably?” asked Duggan.

  “Oddly enough it’s the fact they are so advanced which makes us believe they’ve had problems. I read in one of your reports how you thought their ships to be delicately-built, possibly because they have enough control over their technology that they have moved on from the dense wedge-shapes of our ships.”

  “I remember.”

  “We’ve had a short time to examine the wreckage of the Dreamer mothership, such as you left for us. The signs are that it had enormously thick walls – in fact, you got extremely lucky when you lightspeed jumped inside it.”

  Duggan’s mind raced ahead. “You think our fleet warships are solid enough to survive the transit?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying. Of course, they lack sufficient engine power to pull free at the other end. As for the processing power required to time it perfectly, well, we’ve made big jumps since we got our hands on the Dreamer core, but we aren’t there yet.”

  “Except for the one warship equipped with that core.”

  “Which you are going to take through the wormhole in order to see what’s on the other side.”

  Without him realising it, the trepidation Duggan had felt only moments ago was replaced by something else – a rush of excitement hit him, washing away the years of accumulated circumspection and making him feel as though anything was possible.

  “One moment, sir,” he said, muting the comms. He caught McGlashan’s dark eyes, witnessed the wonder and fear there. “Well, Commander? Are you ready for one last adventure?”

  “A last adventure, sir? Don’t you think we’ll make it back?”

  “Whether we do or we don’t, it’ll be my last.”

  She caught his meaning and saluted. “Reporting for duty, sir.”

  “How about you, Frank?”

  For the shortest of times it looked as if Chainer wasn’t sure, only for Duggan to find the impression was mistaken. “I’ve got nothing better planned, sir.”

  “Bill?”

  “I think it’ll be my last one as well, sir. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  Duggan took the comms off mute. “We’ll give it a try, Admiral.”

  The sound of Teron b
lowing out a pent-up breath reached them. “I hoped you’d say that.”

  With the decision made, everything else was details. “What happens when we arrive at the other end of the wormhole, sir?”

  “I’m working on mission priorities, Captain Duggan. Suffice to say you’ll be required to adapt according to circumstances. We have no idea what you’ll find, if anything. The Dreamers could live many weeks distant from their side of the wormhole, or they might have a dozen planets on the doorstep.”

  “There’s no point in us delaying further, sir. I’ll set the Castigate on a course to rendezvous with the MHL Gargantua.”

  “I’ve had the coordinates sent to your AI. The Gargantua is a couple of hours low lightspeed away from the Blackstar. We didn’t want them to stay too close, in case of a bad luck encounter.”

  Duggan took a deep breath. “Thank you for this opportunity, sir. When we get back I would like to have the promised talk with you.”

  “You’ll have your wish, John.”

  “We’ll go to lightspeed in a few more seconds.”

  “I’ll have ironed out as many of the details as I can by the time you arrive in local space. Goodbye.”

  “He’s gone,” said Chainer.

  “And so have we,” added Breeze. “We’re running nicely at Light-J.5. It’ll be ten days and twenty-one hours until we reach our destination.”

  “I put each of you on the spot back there and I apologise,” Duggan said. “You have until we arrive to change your minds without recriminations. There’ll be no effect on your career or your standing.”

  “You mean you’d get someone in to replace us?” said McGlashan. “I’m offended.”

  “It’s been nearly a month since we last risked our lives, sir,” said Chainer. “I feel as if things have been a little bit quiet. A trip through the Helius Blackstar is just what we need.”

  “The sooner I’m dead, the sooner my children can benefit from my death in service payments,” said Breeze.

  Duggan knew when he was facing a concerted effort at insubordination and he gave his crew a glare which would have caused others to quail. His stare failed to have the required effect, so he sat in his seat, doing his best to hide the smile which had crept onto his face.