Terminus Gate (Survival Wars Book 5)

by Anthony James

  Sometime later, Chainer returned from one of his many visits to the replicator. He carried a tray with three cheeseburgers and a coffee. The others had long since stopped remarking upon his appetite, and upon the fact that Chainer could seemingly eat an endless quantity of calorific food without gaining any weight at all. The lieutenant did pay occasional visits to the gym, without being an enthusiastic participant.

  “I might request a transfer onto one of the monitoring stations when this is over,” he said. “I’ll bet there are plenty of opportunities on the Juniper as well.”

  “Had enough of doing what we’re doing?” asked Duggan.

  “I love it, sir. Sometimes I think to myself that I’ll have missed out on a lot of what life has to offer if I do the same thing forever. Assuming I don’t get killed in action, I don’t want to die old and lonely.”

  “You’ve got plenty of time yet,” said McGlashan.

  “Not so much. Before I know it, I’ll be fifty and serving under some young, upstart captain who lacks respect or skill. Whenever I return to base I’ll spend the days sitting staring at a wall, wondering if I should retire. Except there’ll be no point in retiring because there’ll only be more walls to stare at.”

  Duggan understood Chainer to be a man who needed someone to provide him direction. He was an excellent comms man, but he’d never be more than a lieutenant. Not everyone was cut out to be a leader and Chainer had no desire to be one.

  “I’ll put a word in for you with Admiral Teron, if you want. You’d do well on the Juniper. There’s always something happening.”

  “Thank you, sir. My mind changes often, so tomorrow I may want something else. This time I don’t reckon it’ll happen so soon.”

  “That makes three of us wanting a change,” said Breeze. “How’s about you, Commander? What’s in store for your future?”

  “You should apply for a promotion,” said Chainer. “You’re the best officer I know who isn’t in charge of her own warship.”

  McGlashan didn’t have an immediate response, as if the question had caught her off-guard. She could have kept quiet – none of the others would have pressed for a response. “I know what I want,” she said. “Once we’re done, I’ll take a gamble and see what comes from it.”

  “You can tell us when you’re ready,” said Breeze.

  An eleven-day journey was a comparatively long one. A fleet warship only had certain amenities to keep the occupants entertained, such as a gym and access to television and electronic books. The problem for Duggan was that he didn’t enjoy television and wasn’t an enthusiastic reader. McGlashan had advised him to give it a try, but he couldn’t seem to find anything that interested him. There were times when there could be too much choice.

  Consequently, he worked out in the gym, he slept and he paced endlessly around the bridge, driving the others mad with it. What he really wanted, was to spend some time with McGlashan. During their brief meetings in the mess room, they both agreed now was definitely not the time. Their budding romantic involvement could compromise the mission, the crew and each other.

  “I hope this works out,” McGlashan said one morning. She nibbled at a remarkably accurate reconstruction of a slice of toast, produced by the replicator.

  “I hadn’t planned to be bounced from mission to mission,” he said. “We’re at the mercy of events.”

  “You’re excited about this one. I can see it in your eyes.”

  “I am,” he admitted. “Thinking about it makes me feel like the young man I once was. It burns inside me.”

  “What if the addiction keeps pulling you back? Once this is over, Admiral Teron will call on you again and again.”

  Duggan shook his head. “I don’t think so. I’ve spoken to him and I think he has other plans. He’s a good judge of character and he’ll know when the game’s up – when my heart’s no longer in it.”

  “We can wait,” she said.

  He smiled. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve waited long enough.”

  She smiled in return. “Yeah. One last mission for us.”

  “Are you happy?” he asked.

  “Yes, John, I think I am. Nothing good ever came easily.”

  He looked at the wall clock. “My break time is up. Frank and Bill will be wondering where I’ve got to,” he said, getting to his feet.

  “I’ve got another couple of hours. I’ll put my feet up somewhere.”

  Duggan returned to the bridge, finding it exactly as he’d left it.

  Chapter Nine

  The ES Castigate arrived at its destination five seconds early, entering a solar system consisting of eleven planets and a vibrant sun. There was a tiny archaeological base on one of the worlds and they sent up a greeting before Chainer had the opportunity to get his bearings.

  “They’re looking for signs of ancient life, sir. And they ask why it’s getting so busy out here.”

  “Tell them a polite lie,” said Duggan. “I need you to find the MHL Gargantua.”

  “I’ve got them, sir. They’re stationary above the eighth planet. The coordinates are with you.”

  “I see them. We were told to rendezvous, so let’s go and see what awaits us.”

  Duggan put the Castigate on autopilot for the moment and instructed it to make full speed towards the Gargantua. The Imposition class vessel was quick on its gravity drive and it sped across the intervening space.

  “The Gargantua says hello,” said Chainer.

  “They picked us up quickly. I thought the lifters carried the oldest kit the Space Corps could get away with fitting.”

  “Not this one, sir. Its comms are only a generation earlier than ours. That likely means it has high-powered sensor arrays to match. There are four Anderlechts close by, eight Gunners and a second Imposition class. A sizeable escort.”

  “The Gargantua itself is surprisingly well-armed, too,” said McGlashan. “They’ll be no sitting duck if anyone decides to take a shot at them.”

  “Return the greeting, Lieutenant. We’re less than an hour away and I’m expecting to hear from Admiral Teron shortly.”

  The Admiral was generally punctual. On this occasion, they didn’t hear from him immediately and soon the ES Castigate was in position a few thousand kilometres away from the heavy lifter. Duggan preferred to keep his spacecraft in constant motion, so he circled around at a medium speed.

  “Captain Dramer asks us to slow down, sir. He says we’re making him dizzy.”

  “They’re always a bit crazy on the lifters,” said McGlashan.

  Duggan wasn’t without a sense of humour, but he wasn’t in the mood to engage with the captain of the Gargantua. He kept the Castigate in its circle and pondered if he should try and reach Admiral Teron, or take matters into his own hands and ride a shuttle across to the lifter. The decision was made for him.

  “The Gargantua has launched a shuttle, sir,” said Chainer. “It’s coming towards us.”

  “It sounds as if they know more than we do. Ask them what their plans are.”

  “They’re coming to relieve us, sir. There are six officers inbound.”

  The shuttle didn’t take long to reach the Castigate. Both vessels were moving at a reasonably fast speed, which seemed no impediment to the docking computer on the transport. With a clunk, it linked to one of the Castigate’s two docking irises, which were a recent addition to Space Corps vessels, allowing shuttles to deliver their passengers without the need for a landing bay.

  “Our port-side iris has opened,” said Breeze. “There are six additional personnel onboard.”

  “There’s no sign of the transport leaving, sir.”

  “It’ll be waiting for us,” said Duggan. “I’ll check for confirmation before we go anywhere.”

  The six new arrivals made their way directly to the bridge. Their senior officer introduced herself as Captain Picket and she respectfully awaited Duggan’s invitation to enter.

  “Good day,” said Duggan, extending a hand.

 
; Captain Picket shook his hand and returned the greeting. She was tall and dark-haired, with a commanding presence which made her easily recognizable as a competent officer.

  “I’ve received no orders,” said Duggan.

  Picket raised an eyebrow, in a well-practised gesture. “I’m told you’re under Fleet Admiral Teron’s direct instruction, Captain. We’ve been asked to relieve you, that’s all.”

  “Admiral Teron must be running late with the details,” said Duggan.

  “Want me to get him on the comms?” asked Chainer.

  “Please.”

  “He’s unavailable.”

  Duggan puffed out his cheeks. “Pass on a message to let him know we’ve arrived and let him know we’re headed to the Gargantua.”

  “Message sent.”

  Duggan and his crew wished the others good fortune and hurried through the corridors of the warship. It was less cramped than a Gunner or an Anderlecht and the temperature was more even. Nevertheless, they were hot by the time they climbed through the long, circular tunnel which took them to the tiny spacecraft latched outside.

  Without delay, Duggan called up the autopilot, intending to program in the return journey.

  “It’s already set to go back,” he said.

  “There wasn’t anywhere else for it to go.”

  There was a noticeable shudder, accompanied by a grinding vibration when the shuttle disconnected from the docking iris. Its guidance systems executed a sharp turn and propelled it in the direction of the Gargantua. The four of them stared at the sensor feed. It took a lot to inspire awe these days and the heavy lifter managed it.

  “I’ve seen bigger ships,” said Chainer.

  “Probably only one,” McGlashan replied. “Even if the Sandarvax is a lot longer, I doubt it has the same volume. That leaves only the Dreamer mothership.”

  “The Sandarvax has greater volume,” said Breeze with an unexpected certainty. “Still, the lifter is a wonder right enough.”

  The transport swished effortlessly into a wide, well-lit opening in the Gargantua’s side. There were three other shuttles like it inside, clamped in place and attached to docking irises. Duggan wondered why it had taken so long to come up with such an efficient system. He supposed there were other priorities.

  “Out,” he said, once the landing manoeuvre was successfully completed. Something caught his eye – an inbound message, diverted from the Gargantua’s main comms. “Wait!”

  “A message?” asked Chainer.

  They knew who it would be from - they’d waited nervously for an update since arriving in this solar system.

  “Admiral Teron,” said Duggan. He put his earpiece in place and listened. The message was concise and didn’t require an elaborate response.

  “What’s up, sir?” asked Chainer, after Duggan put the earpiece down.

  “He’s going to speak to us in ten minutes. Would you believe they’ve got a dozen meeting rooms onboard? We’re going to one of them.”

  They emerged from the shuttle into the crowded interior of the heavy lifter. The cargo bays were further along the ship and this area of the vessel somewhat resembled the Juniper. Groups of people passed by, walking swiftly along the wide, metal-walled corridors and across the open spaces. In terms of design, the Gargantua was a world apart from the deserted passages of most fleet spacecraft.

  “They must have thousands of people here,” said Breeze.

  “Look at all these rooms,” said Chainer. “They’ve got researchers, scientists, engineers. Everything you need to support a war.”

  “Its personnel could live here for years,” said McGlashan. “It’s less vulnerable than the Juniper, too, if somewhat smaller.”

  “The Juniper can’t fit anything much over a thousand metres in its bays. The Gargantua will be a lot more flexible, assuming it can perform repairs as well as we’ve been told.”

  “I’m surprised they’ve sent it so close to danger,” said Chainer. “No disrespect to the guys walking around us, but they don’t look as if they signed up for frontline duty.”

  “They’ll be hand-picked, Lieutenant. I doubt they had the wool pulled over their eyes.”

  There was something about the heavy lifter which pleased Duggan. It represented a step forward in the Space Corps’ capabilities and he set himself a mental reminder to check if there were any more of these vessels under construction.

  They reached the meeting room. There was enough space inside to hold a conference and the four of them sat in the front row, feeling lost amongst the hundred or so seats which remained empty. The walls were clad in a wood-effect material and there was carpet on the floors. It was as though it had been designed to give the impression of being anywhere except on a spacecraft. The room smelled of new-cut cloth and resin.

  This time, Admiral Teron didn’t keep them waiting. His image appeared abruptly on the largest of the room’s four screens, winked out, then reappeared, shimmering slightly until the feed stabilised.

  “Good day. It seemed for the best that I address everyone at once, since you’re all facing the same dangers.”

  “Have you finalised the mission objectives, sir?” asked Duggan, impatient to know what was expected.

  “I have. Some is for your ears only, much of it I will tell you shortly.” Teron caught the look of confusion on Duggan’s face. “There are others due.”

  Duggan was puzzled. “Who is coming, sir?”

  The sound of the meeting room door caused them to turn. Lieutenant Ortiz stood there, peculiarly abashed at the attention. “Hello, sir,” she said in greeting.

  Duggan nodded in return. “Good to see you, Lieutenant. I must confess I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

  “That makes two of us, sir. They put me and a few of the guys on one of those Anderlechts and the next thing I knew I was told to get here. Top priority.”

  “Do you know who this is?” asked Duggan, directing her attention to Admiral Teron.

  Ortiz didn’t miss a beat. “Yes, sir, I know who that is.” She lifted a hand and waved. Teron raised his eyebrows. He’d been a soldier himself once and few things surprised him these days.

  “Take a seat, Lieutenant Ortiz.”

  Ortiz sat.

  “Can we begin?” asked Duggan.

  “I’m awaiting one more arrival.”

  Duggan could tell when the Admiral was playing games. He drummed his fingers impatiently and glowered at the video screen, while Teron pretended he didn’t notice.

  “Sir?”

  The question spurred Teron into life. “Several hours before the ES Castigate arrived here, another spaceship visited this solar system, bringing with it an important guest – someone who will play a pivotal role in determining how we face the approaching conflict. The captain of the Gargantua was unpleasantly surprised when the Trivanor exited lightspeed less than an hour away from his vessel. Luckily, I had provided advance orders for the Ghast Oblivion to be treated as an ally, not an enemy. The battleship departed a short time before the Castigate arrived.”

  Duggan wasn’t stupid and guessed where Teron was going. He could have jumped in and spoken the name, but he knew the Admiral had a streak of the theatrical in him, even in life-or-death situations like this one. The meeting room door opened and the last attendee walked inside, unbowed in spite of his years. Duggan stood at once and gave his acknowledgement.

  “Subjos Gol-Tur. It’s good to see you.”

  Chapter Ten

  If Teron had a liking of the theatrical, the Ghast did not. Gol-Tur strode to the front, where he remained standing, his face towards the screen.

  “Have you told them, Malachi Teron?”

  “I thought it best to wait for your arrival, Subjos.”

  “I am here. We should not delay.”

  Teron pursed his lips. “Let’s get on with it, then. Captain Duggan, the scope of your mission isn’t something we can perfectly define, so I plan to give you some guidelines.”

  “Assuming you surv
ive the transit through the wormhole,” said Gol-Tur bluntly.

  “We will try to equip you for a number of eventualities, specifically ground combat and ship-to-ship engagement with the enemy. Your primary goal is to fill in our many blanks.”

  “Gather information and return, sir?”

  “We’re hoping for a little more than that, Captain Duggan. You’ve already guessed you’ll be taking the ESS Crimson. By the time you leave, it will have been returned to full operational capability. The stealth modules should allow you to discover what we’re facing - or at least give us a general idea, which is more than we have at the moment.” He leaned forward. “Here’s the important bit. You’ve heard me use the term taking the fight to the enemy. That’s exactly what I’m expecting you to do. If you get the chance, kill as many of the bastards as you can.”

  Duggan had been more or less prepared for the instruction, though he hadn’t expected Admiral Teron to deliver the words in such a cold-hearted fashion. There again, the Dreamers hadn’t earned the right to be granted mercy. The instruction necessitated the asking of one vital question.

  “Does that include using the Planet Breaker, sir?”

  “Use it without hesitation. If that isn’t clear enough I will spell it out as follows: if you find any of their populated worlds, destroy them at once and let the deaths lie on my conscience.”

  Duggan wasn’t sure the guilt was so easily transferred. Whatever Teron’s words, the burden would be carried by more than one. “If it comes to it, I’ll do as you order, sir. You’re aware the Planet Breaker failed last time, leading me to believe their populated worlds could be protected against attack.”

  “That in itself is valuable information and assists with the direction of our research.”

  “I think I can summarise the rest of the conversation. We’re to act with caution, but not hold back when I judge it the right time to strike.”

  “Exactly that. Returning to the situation with the Crimson. You’ll find it’s had a few minor modifications to allow it to carry more troops and ground-based weaponry, as well as a more effective method of delivering said armour.”