“It’ll be best if we avoid any ground combat, sir.”
“I’m aware. Like I said, I want to ensure you’re not held back by a lack of options. The changes to the Crimson weren’t especially difficult to make – there’s a huge team on the Gargantua who have completed the alterations in double-quick time.”
Duggan was familiar enough with the Admiral to know when he was holding something in reserve. “What is it you’re not telling us, sir?”
“You’ll be wondering why I asked Subjos Gol-Tur to attend this meeting.” He left the words hanging in invitation.
Duggan duly obliged. “The thought had occurred.”
“This fight is as much ours as it is yours, Captain Duggan,” said Gol-Tur. “Now that we are allies, it is right that we face the battle together and that is what we’ll do.”
“You have a warship ready to make the transit?”
“Not yet. Soon. I have agreed with your Admiral Teron that a contingent of our best troops will accompany you on your warship.”
The meeting had been building towards this announcement. Even so, Duggan was a little taken aback that Teron would permit Ghasts onto a fleet warship so soon after the signing of a peace treaty. He wasn’t afraid to speak openly about his concerns. “I am not convinced this is wise, sir, though I appreciate the decision has been made.”
“It has been made, Captain Duggan and this is the right thing to do. Subjos Gol-Tur has given me assurances there will be no subterfuge.”
Duggan realised the significance when Teron said the Ghasts could be trusted – the aliens were either very poor liars or so accomplished that even the most suspicious of humans couldn’t detect when they were telling mistruths. On the balance of probabilities, Duggan was certain the Ghasts were above-board.
“I command the Crimson and the troops,” he said, the tone of his voice making it clear he wasn’t expecting an argument. “Will this be a problem?”
“Were you on one of our vessels, then yes it would be a problem,” said Gol-Tur. The translation module lacked the subtlety to betray the Ghast’s precise feelings on the matter. “As it is, my troops will accept your command.”
“Without question?”
“Those are the orders I have given them.”
“There are no Dax-Nides amongst your troops?” Duggan asked, referring to the captain of the Oblivion class Kuidenar, who had defied his orders to withdraw from an attack on Atlantis.
“You are in command because you can deal with problems,” said Gol-Tur. “However, I don’t expect you to encounter insubordination.”
Duggan felt Gol-Tur wasn’t telling him everything. He considered a number of additional questions. In the end, he left them unspoken. The Ghast was right – Duggan had to expect problems, particularly if the first joint human-Ghast ground attack ever came to pass. As long as the aliens obeyed his orders, anything else would have to be dealt with as it arose.
“How many are coming?”
“The roster is available on the Crimson if you’re looking for names and combat records. In terms of numbers, you’ll have twenty human troops and a further ten Ghast soldiers,” said Teron.
“Red-Gulos leads them,” said Gol-Tur. “He is one of our most decorated men.”
“I’m sure he’ll do his duty,” said Duggan, wondering if the concept of duty was something the Ghasts were familiar with. I’ll have to learn quickly, he thought.
“Is there anything else you need to ask before we end the meeting?” asked Teron.
“Only one thing, sir. When do we leave?”
“Not long. Several hours at the most. I suggest you make yourselves comfortable on the Crimson. The interior work is complete and the hull repairs are due to be finished any time now.”
Duggan got up to leave with the others.
“Captain Duggan, I need a very brief word with you alone,” said Teron.
“Sir?” he asked, when the room was empty.
“I’ve found some information about your kidnapping incident.”
“Someone in Military Asset Management?”
“I thought you might have reached your own conclusion. Yes, it was someone from that organisation – a man of middling seniority.”
“What has happened to this man?”
“At first he claimed I had no authority to have him arrested. He soon discovered the fallacy of his beliefs. He later said he was a personal friend of Lieutenant Nichols and that he only wanted to ask you directly what happened to result in the man’s death.”
“And?”
“I didn’t believe him, so I had him given certain drugs to make him remember what he wasn’t telling us.”
“What did he say.”
“Bits and pieces. He was only a participant in what happened, rather than the mastermind.”
“The MAM directors spoke to me before, sir. They asked me to answer some questions.”
Teron looked perplexed. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“It didn’t seem important enough at the time. They appeared to be children trying to play an adult’s game.”
“There could be more to it than you think, John. Their department has access to a number of important ears.”
“Their department is already an anachronism.”
“Maybe not. If we remain at total war, it’s possible their influence will increase.”
“They are just a single department amongst many which orbit the Space Corps.”
Teron laughed. “That they are. I haven’t forgotten what’s happened, but I can’t be everywhere at once. Keep an eye out.”
“They can’t follow me through the wormhole, sir.”
“Indeed not. Perhaps I’ll have dealt with the problem before you return. Rest assured I’m treating it as a high priority. They’ve overstepped the mark and as soon as I have proof, they’ll find themselves up the creek without a paddle.”
It was a long time since Duggan had heard that saying – Teron was a man with a surprising turn of phrase. “Thank you for the update, sir. I’ve got more important things to worry about than a vendetta against me. If our meeting is concluded, I’ll join the others on the Crimson.”
“We’re done. I won’t speak to you again before you leave, so I’ll wish you good luck.”
“Thank you.”
“I don’t think you have to worry about the loyalty of the Ghasts you’re taking with you. We know they can fight and Gol-Tur has promised these are amongst the best.”
“I’m worried they’ll want to show off, sir.”
“That will go for both sides, won’t it?” asked Teron. “You’ll need to keep it under control if it looks like jeopardising the mission.”
“I’ll severely punish anyone who oversteps. Human or Ghast.”
“That’s the way to play it. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye, sir.”
Duggan put thoughts of his human enemies to one side and left the room, his stride purposeful. Outside, he realised he had no idea how to reach the Crimson, so he spoke to a woman passing by. She directed him to a shuttle capsule, which was part of an ingenious system of horizontal and vertical lifts to take the Gargantua’s crew to their destinations as quickly as possible. After a matter of five minutes, during which several other people entered and exited the cylindrical capsule, Duggan stepped out through a door and into one part of the spaceship’s colossal cargo bay.
The sight caught him unawares. The cargo bay was brightly lit in stark blue-white, allowing him to see for several thousand metres to the left and right. The shape of the bay echoed that of the ship’s exterior, being a flattened cylinder. To a large extent, the internal walls were featureless, apart from the rows alloy cubes which housed the power systems for the gravity clamps. He looked into the heights above and saw rows of huge observation windows which looked across the interior. Pervading everything was a bone-deep vibration, which Duggan recognized as the vessel’s incredibly powerful gravity engines, running at little more than an idle.
There were two ships inside – the ES Rampage was far to Duggan’s left. The air around it was busy with a constantly-moving army of self-propelled repair bots. Their welders sparked and crackled as they sealed the damage to the warship’s armour. Some of the bots were at least three hundred metres wide and over two hundred tall. Duggan had never seen anything close to that size, except on a few major ground-based shipyards. These bots were designed specifically to accompany the Gargantua.
The Rampage had been subjected to an extraordinary level of punishment at the recent conflict above Atlantis and it was a wonder the Space Corps hadn’t scrapped it. Duggan thought it testament to the toughness of the Galactic class that the decision had been made to salvage rather than dismantle. Before he looked away, his eyes caught one more detail in the vessel’s hull – the tell-tale indentations which indicated they’d decided to install four Shatterer tubes at the same time as they completed the repairs. He was sure the technical problems with the missiles still existed, but it seemed wise to look to the future and get the Rampage prepared.
Then, there was the Crimson. The warship appeared small in the cavernous interior of the bay. It was clamped in place near to one side wall, with nothing to support it from underneath and there were no repair bots circling around. It looked forgotten in comparison to the organised chaos that surrounded the heavy cruiser. The front boarding ramp was in the down position, the bottom step resting against a retractable platform which protruded from the side wall of the cargo bay.
With the familiar and unshakeable excitement he felt when action beckoned, Duggan set off to see what his future had in store.
Chapter Eleven
The process to allow the Crimson’s departure was swift, all things considered. Most of the repair work was automated, so it didn’t take long to clear the bay of human personnel. There had been a team of four technicians on the Crimson, performing some task or other which they didn’t seem keen to discuss. Once the bay was clear of the living, the vast external doors slid aside. There was nothing ponderous about them and they vanished into gaps between the layers of the MHL Gargantua’s hull.
Clearance to leave was granted immediately and Duggan activated the auto-pilot, since he had no desire to be party to an accidental collision at the start of such a vital mission. The Crimson fell away into space and Duggan took the control bars once they were a few hundred kilometres clear. The metal felt cool in his palms as if they were part of his flesh, rather than something separate.
“Do you know where we’re going, Lieutenant?” he asked.
“Yes, sir,” said Breeze.
“Get us to the Blackstar at full speed.”
“The AI is calculating the path. It’ll take us one hour and fifty minutes to arrive.”
“Get us in as close as you can. There’s no need for us to wait around – I want to be through the wormhole as quickly as possible.”
The Crimson flashed away across space, carrying its cargo of weapons, troops and armour. Duggan recalled the time when they’d first discovered the ship and how its life support had been insufficient to completely sustain the crew on the surge to lightspeed. Now there was scarcely more than a slight bump, easily missed if you didn’t know what you were looking for.
“Lieutenant Ortiz, please report.”
“It’s interesting down here, sir.”
“Anything you can’t handle?”
“Nothing so far. These Ghasts are big, but they don’t say much.”
“Can they understand you and do they respond when you speak to them?”
“They’ve got language modules on their chests. I’ve checked out a few of our space suits and they have the modules ready to go. I believe they’re standard fit these days. The Ghasts have their own kit, sir.”
Duggan was curious to know what the aliens had brought with them. He’d seen much of their weaponry in the past, though he was still interested in how it looked close-up. There wasn’t much time until they reached the Blackstar, so he put the matter to one side – he was sure Ortiz would make it her personal mission to learn the important details.
“Keep on top of it, Lieutenant. We’ll be at the wormhole soon.”
“I’ll tell the guys to expect a bumpy ride.”
“If we’re lucky.”
“I understand, sir. See you on the other side.”
The minutes passed quickly and for once Duggan would have preferred it otherwise. He had time to skim through his mission briefing documents, finding nothing new or unexpected in spite of Teron’s hints to the contrary. There were also checks to perform with Lieutenant Breeze, in order for them to be certain they were familiar with the exact routine required to traverse the wormhole.
“The AI will do most of the work,” said Breeze. “It’s been programmed with a whole new set of instructions to make it happen.”
“Instructions which are clearly labelled with the word experimental, I see,” said Duggan.
“Everything’s untested until you give it a go, sir,” said Breeze in a matter-of-fact voice.
“Anyone want a coffee?” interrupted Chainer. “I can’t travel an infinite distance without a shot of caffeine.”
“I’ve tasted the stuff you manage to extract from the replicator,” said Breeze, looking up from his console. “I’ll give it a miss.”
“Let’s get on with this,” said Duggan impatiently. “We need to get close enough to the wormhole without being destroyed and then activate a lightspeed sequence. In theory our journey should take an infinitesimally short time and we’re relying on this pre-programmed sequence to pull us clear at the other side, before we get crushed.”
“That sums it up nicely. We activate the fission drives and the AI keeps them on the brink of firing, until we activate this new set of codes. Once the sequence is activated, we can’t easily disable it. When it begins, we’re going through whether we like it or not.”
“In case the life support can’t sustain us and we pass out,” said Duggan.
“Or worse. There are some remarkably clever people who have devoted their lives to solving this theoretical stuff, sir. Ultimately, there’s only so much testing you can do in a lab before you need volunteers to give it go.”
“Suckers, you mean,” said Chainer, coming back with a cup of something which possessed the consistency of tar.
“Lieutenant,” warned Duggan. “We’re not playing games here.”
Chainer took the hint and sat down without saying anything further. Duggan and Breeze talked for a time, while McGlashan listened in. There was a chance she might end up in charge of the ship if something went wrong.
Eventually, Duggan rose from his stooped position and stretched the muscles of his back to ease them. “I don’t know if it’ll work, but I’m ready to give it a try.”
“Not long until we arrive, sir. Five minutes.”
“Let’s get ready, ladies and gentlemen. We have to assume the area surrounding the Blackstar may contain hostiles. I want a thorough scan of local space and we’ll activate the stealth modules as soon as we’re able.”
“We won’t be able to use them, sir. They have a cooldown before and after lightspeed use.”
Duggan kicked himself for not realising. The Crimson couldn’t go to lightspeed immediately after the stealth modules were switched off, which would delay their launch into the wormhole. “Forget about the stealth and keep your fingers crossed we don’t run into something we can’t handle.”
“Sir.”
“Commander McGlashan? Get ready to fire everything we’ve got at the first sign of trouble.”
The crew knew when it was time to concentrate and they went through their tests and checks to ensure everything was ready to go.
“Exiting lightspeed, sir,” said Breeze.
The Crimson entered local space, half a million kilometres from the Helius Blackstar - a journey of approximately four minutes on the gravity drives until they were close enough to launch. It was not going to be straightforward.
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“There’s a nearby fission signature,” said Breeze.
“Coming or going?” asked Duggan with alarm. He set the gravity drives to maximum output and aimed directly for the wormhole.
“Going. Something big made a jump a few seconds before we arrived.”
“Lieutenant Chainer, make the Juniper aware as soon as you’re able.”
“Yes, sir. There’s zero sign of hostiles in our vicinity. Switching to the fars to see what’s there.”
Duggan brought the forward sensor feed onto the bulkhead screen. The Helius Blackstar showed as an area of absolute darkness, visible only because it blocked out the stars behind it. The AI overlaid a speckling of red dots, to show the wormhole’s outer reaches and the centre where its gravity became ever more powerful. The dots spiralled slowly inwards.
“I think there’s something out there,” said Chainer.
“Think or know, Lieutenant? We can’t make decisions based on guesswork.”
“Sorry, sir. When you’ve done this long enough, you begin to get a feeling for it.”
Duggan had worked with Chainer long enough to be concerned at the words. He was already on edge and now he experienced the clenched feeling in his stomach which he got when something was beyond his control. “Come on,” he muttered.
“We can begin the launch sequence for the wormhole anywhere between fifty and a hundred thousand kilometres out from the centre,” said Breeze. “At the extremes of range, our hull will definitely survive the gravitational crush, but the chances of a successful launch into the wormhole have been calculated at no more than five percent. At fifty thousand kilometres, we’re looking at the contradictory combination of certain success and certain death.”
“The closer the better, as long as we judge it right.” said Duggan.
“They’ve left it to your judgement to decide when to go, sir,” said Breeze. “There must be too many ‘what-ifs’ for them to give a firm recommendation.”
“Crap!” said Chainer.
Terminus Gate (Survival Wars Book 5) Page 7
