A brief look of irritation came over Teron’s face - he didn’t like to be second-guessed. “We don’t know what it’s about, Captain Duggan, that’s what you’re here for. One of our prospectors has gone missing out in the Garon sector – the SC Lupus, though I doubt you’ve heard the name. It’s just one ship amongst many.”
“It didn’t send out a distress signal, I assume?”
“No, we’ve heard nothing from it. They were due to dock at the Atlantis main spaceport a few days ago. They stopped broadcasting over a week back.”
“Could they have landed in a place with so much ore the planet’s density has prevented them sending their status reports?” Duggan was clutching at straws, more in desperation than anything else. If a spacecraft had gone missing, it was hard to avoid concluding the unthinkable.
“It’s not very likely. We believe something has happened to the Lupus. I’m sure you know what that means.”
“Do we trust the Ghasts?” he asked. “Or do the stats teams say it’s Dreamer?”
Teron sighed and took a piece of paper from his desk. “If you want the exact breakdown, the Projections Team has provided a weighting of five percent for accidental ship destruction, thirty-five percent for a rogue or planned Ghast attack, with the remaining sixty percent attributed to an unknown alien threat. You can draw your own conclusions. Furthermore, we’ve asked the Ghasts to stay away from the Garon sector while negotiations take place, so they shouldn’t be anywhere near. From what I’ve heard, our former enemies take pride in their trustworthiness.”
There were few people better-placed than Teron to hear how the peace negotiations were proceeding. In fact, Duggan wouldn’t have been surprised if the Admiral had a part in directing them. The death of Admiral Slender had opened doors for more than just Duggan.
“I hope that’s the case, sir, I truly do.”
“The Ghasts are never going to be liked after what they’ve done, but we can at least hope they have enough redeeming qualities that we never need to face war with them again.” Teron’s face twisted in anger. “Not that we’d give them another chance at it.” The expression vanished as quickly as it had arrived. “Have you heard of the ES Terminus?”
Duggan racked his brains. The Space Corps was producing new ships at such a rate it was difficult to keep track of them and the impending peace with the Ghasts hadn’t slowed the building programme one bit. Suddenly, the name prompted his memory. “The first of our new heavy cruisers,” intoned Duggan. “Designed to fill in the operational requirements for a vessel larger than an Anderlecht, yet smaller than a Hadron. A direct rival to the Ghast Cadaverons.”
“Indeed,” said Teron. “We laid down three such hulls a number of years ago. The work was mothballed during the cuts, but luckily, they weren’t dismantled. As a consequence, we were able to proceed with the work on these vessels once our funding levels were increased. The ES Terminus is the first of its kind to reach completion.” Teron leaned forward. “Captain Duggan, you will be the first person to captain it.”
For once, Duggan was lost for words. “Sir?”
“You’re a good man, Duggan and one of our best officers. Your treatment has been tantamount to criminal and I include myself as party to it. Things have changed now.” He let those last words hang in the air.
“Where am I taking the Terminus, sir?”
Teron laughed for the second time. “Don’t be too happy, Captain Duggan. We wouldn’t be the Space Corps if everything was easy. The Terminus is going to look for the Lupus. At least that’s what your order sheet says - in reality, you’re searching for our enemy.”
It was Duggan’s turn to laugh this time, a mixture of giddy excitement and cynicism. “You weren’t joking, were you? It’s a suicide mission to go looking for the Dreamers. How many did they destroy from our combined fleets? Ten? Twelve?”
“Fourteen warships lost, as it happens. That was the mothership. You managed to bring down one of their smaller fighters.”
“It was a close-run thing!” said Duggan. “Without the Ghotesh-Q to launch its Shatterers, we’d have been destroyed. Wouldn’t it be better to send out the Crimson again?”
“From a purely martial standpoint, I’m sure you’re right. However, this time the Crimson is going nowhere. We’ve made strides in copying certain parts of the processing core– it’s really quite advanced and much of it is still beyond us. We’ve learned a great deal from the disruptors and the engine design, but again it’s nothing we can fully replicate – at least not on the scale necessary to place on a warship.”
“You mean we can partially copy this stuff?”
Teron’s face went blank as he considered his words. “In bits and pieces. We can recreate the core design at a molecular level, we simply can’t scale it up yet. The lab could make you an outstandingly fast wristwatch if you wanted one. Otherwise, we’re not quite there when it comes to making something that could run a fleet warship. On the plus side, our next generation beam weapons will be smaller and with a longer range. We estimate we’ll be on a par with what the Ghasts have been producing for the last year or two. It’s a start.”
Duggan got the impression Teron was hiding something. He knew the Admiral well enough to pick up the nuances in his behaviour. “There’s something else, isn’t there?” he asked.
Teron didn’t have the good grace to look guilty. “There’s always something else, Captain Duggan,” he said dismissively. “I thought you’d have learned that by now. In this case, you’ll be accompanied by a second warship. A Ghast vessel – the Oblivion class Dretisear.”
Duggan was too much an old hand at these games to be surprised. “I think it’s a good idea, sir.”
Teron had clearly expected to deal with objections, so he launched into his speech anyway. “The Dreamers are an enemy to both sides. After much deliberation, we considered it for the best that we undertake this as a joint exercise. It will demonstrate to the Ghasts that we are willing to trust them and to work with them.”
“And we need their Shatterer missiles to do the business for us if we come across any more Dreamers.”
“Maybe and maybe not,” said Teron cryptically. “There is more to this exercise than you might think, Captain Duggan. On the one hand, we have the Dreamers to contend with, but we would be fools to discount the Ghasts as an ongoing danger. We’re sending our newest ship along with one of our best captains as a show of force. The Terminus punches above its weight as it was always intended to. Why make a new ship that’s the equal of what the enemy has? This is why we insisted they send an Oblivion, rather than a Cadaveron. We want them to see what our heavy cruisers are capable of.”
“The Space Corps must really be confident,” said Duggan.
Teron smiled a grim smile. “We are,” he said. “The hull of the Terminus was ready and we’ve had ample time to fit in the latest and best we’ve got. Humanity never moves faster than when its existence is threatened and we’ve had enough development money to make a few leaps of our own in the last year and a half.”
“I’ll need my crew,” said Duggan.
“Take whoever you need, as long as they’re already here on the Juniper. The Terminus has been stationed in near space outside the orbital for two hours. For once you’ve been given a warship that won’t fit inside one of the hangars.”
“We’re to find out what happened to the Lupus, flex our muscles at the Ghasts and destroy any hostile aliens we meet?”
“That sums it up nicely,” said Teron. “The Lupus was assigned to an area of space that is almost mid-way between the Helius Blackstar and Atlantis. We have more than ten billion people living on Atlantis. I don’t need to remind you we’re getting ever nearer to Hyptron. We have eight of our populated planets in that sector. It’s the second-most populated area of Confederation Space, with over one hundred billion people living across those eight worlds.”
“If the Dreamers get there, all our recent successes against the Ghasts will have been for nothing,”
said Duggan.
“Exactly. There’s a lot riding on this, Captain Duggan. We have additional ships searching the other solar systems on the Lupus’ logs, but you’re going the furthest out. If you discover anything, let us know as soon as possible.”
“Will do, sir,” said Duggan. “Permission to find my crew and board a shuttle to the ES Terminus?”
“Granted.”
Chapter Two
The Juniper was immense – easily the largest object mankind had ever sent into space. Fortunately for Duggan, the orbital’s internal communications systems were excellent and it didn’t take long to locate the people he needed to speak to. He had to countermand one or two orders in order to get things moving and in the end, he got what he wanted. The report sheets for the Terminus told him there was already a full complement of troops onboard, but there was always room to squeeze in a few more.
The Juniper had a number of small, personnel transport shuttle docks, to avoid the intrusive procedures necessary to open the gargantuan doors to the main hangar bays. By the time Duggan reached the transport, there was already a familiar face onboard. The vessel was faithful to its type, being little more than a brightly-lit metal box, with a number of worn seats and a single viewscreen. There were plenty of luxury models available, but the Space Corps tried not to be overtly wasteful in its usage of taxpayer funds.
“We’re moving out?” asked Lieutenant Frank Chainer from his seat. “Why all this cloak and dagger stuff, sir?”
“What cloak and dagger, Lieutenant?” asked Duggan, slightly bemused at the accusation.
“It feels like we’re sneaking off the Juniper. Don’t we normally climb into whatever Gunner is waiting in the hangar bays?”
“Not this time,” said Duggan.
Commander Lucy McGlashan and Lieutenant Bill Breeze arrived on the shuttle and he greeted them. Seniority allowed Duggan his choice of officers and these were the three he wanted. In other circumstances, they might have already been assigned to a new ship. As it was, they’d been subjected to the same extensive debriefing as Duggan, which had kept them here on the orbital.
“Sir,” said Breeze, nodding his head and smiling. Then, he remembered procedure and offered a salute. His eyes were sharp and he looked eager to be on his way.
“Good morning, sir,” said McGlashan. “Many more to come?”
“Just a few,” said Duggan. “I doubt they’ll be long.”
“There were some proper miserable bastards getting off this shuttle when it docked,” said Chainer. “It looked like they’d been dismissed from the Corps or something. There were a couple of officers amongst them.”
Duggan guessed who they were – the officers from the ES Terminus who had been taken off the ship in order to make room for Duggan’s own crew. He didn’t worry about it too much – if you couldn’t accept your toes being trodden on every so often, you weren’t tough enough to make the really hard decisions.
The sound of footsteps made Duggan turn. A small complement of soldiers had arrived, dressed in smart blue uniforms. They weren’t allowed to carry their gauss rifles around the orbital without specific clearance and they looked lost without them.
“Sir!” said Sergeant Ortiz. “Corporal Bryant is with me, along with infantrymen Flores, Butler, Dorsey and Morgan.”
The men and women stood smartly to attention in the enclosed interior of the shuttle. “What about Santos?” asked Duggan.
“I have no idea where he’s gone to, sir,” said Ortiz. “I thought we’d all been ordered to stay on the Juniper.”
“You had,” said Duggan. “Never mind, there’s always someone who slips through the net. He’s probably safer wherever he is.”
“Will there be action, sir?” asked Ortiz. Her expression and words were full of longing. The obvious yearning might have worried Duggan if he hadn’t seen Ortiz in action. She could be gung-ho, but never suicidal.
“There’s always that chance, Sergeant. Assuming we don’t get blown up before we can disembark.”
“When one threat recedes, another rises to take its place,” she said, revealing her thoughts about the nature of the mission.
Duggan didn’t confirm or deny anything. “Take a seat please. We need to be on our way.”
The shuttle had no pilot and remained under the direct control of the Juniper’s AIs. The outer door whirred closed, sealing them inside. There was a clunk and a shuddering scrape to indicate the shuttle had detached from its moorings. The feeling of acceleration which followed was so slight it was easy to miss. The Juniper did everything by the book and the shuttle’s exit from its launch bay was perfect. The internal viewscreen remained stubbornly blank, depriving them of what would be a magnificent sight as the orbital receded slowly away behind them.
“So, where are we going, sir?” asked Chainer, struggling to contain his curiosity.
Duggan didn’t like to keep secrets just for the sake of it and they’d find out soon enough. “I’ve been given command of the ES Terminus. It’s the Space Corps’ first Galactic class heavy cruiser.”
“A heavy cruiser? Wow, sir!” said Chainer. “They’ve finally seen sense and put you in charge of something decent?”
“I’ve not had time to study the spec sheets yet,” said Duggan, smiling at Chainer’s enthusiasm. “Admiral Teron assures me it’s special. Let’s wait till we get there.”
As if prompted by his words the transport’s internal screen flickered, before the picture settled on a distant object. The shuttle’s sensors zoomed in once and then twice more, until the object filled the display. The image appeared grainy and blurred at first. Then, the sensors resolved the details and snapped them into focus. Without anything for comparison, it was difficult to judge exactly how big the spacecraft was, but when you’d seen enough of them it became easy to make a good guess.
“That’s it?” asked Breeze, his mouth half-open.
Duggan stood from his seat in order to get a closer view of the warship. After he’d left Teron’s office earlier he’d called up computer-generated image of the Terminus to study. It hadn’t been enough to properly convey the menace possessed by the spacecraft.
“Even if none of the weapons were functioning, I wouldn’t want to face it,” said Chainer, his eyes fixed on the screen.
Like a dying man reaching for salvation, Duggan lifted his arm and traced a finger along the outline of the ship. It was clearly a Space Corps design, yet took cues from some of the older Ghast Oblivions. The result was a ship which could have looked like a patchwork of ideas, yet instead fitted together into something that was entirely new. The front third was a wedge, with a dome beneath. The centre third was sleek and flat, while the aft was thicker, with rounded edges. There was at least one more particle beam housing mounted there. The Terminus looked mean and fast.
“The Space Corps must be expecting trouble if they’re sending that?” said McGlashan.
“You’ve seen what we’re facing,” said Duggan. “We’ve got nothing that will last against the Dreamers’ technology. The Admiral told me the engineers have done what they can, but I doubt it’s going to be enough. We’re going to need brains for this one, as well as whatever weaponry the Terminus is carrying.” He took a deep breath. “We won’t be alone, either.”
“What else are they sending with us?” asked McGlashan. “Another couple of Galactics?”
“The others aren’t due to enter service for a few weeks, Commander. Our companions for this particular mission will be familiar to all of you. They’re sending an Oblivion with us - the Dretisear. This isn’t just about the Dreamers, it’s about showing the Ghasts what exactly the human race is capable of.”
He caught Ortiz grinning as she heard the words. “Maybe we’ll get to fight next to them, sir. Show them what a real soldier can do.”
“Maybe,” said Duggan, unwilling to be drawn into a discussion on it. “Anyway, folks, there’s our home for the next few weeks. At least this time we can’t complain they haven’t giv
en us the tools to do our jobs properly.”
“I only wish that for once we could be facing an inferior enemy, rather than a vastly superior one,” said Chainer.
“Where would be the fun in that?” asked McGlashan.
“I’d settle for a bit less fun and a higher chance of survival,” grumbled Chainer.
The transport came ever closer to the ES Terminus. The image of the warship remained a constant size on the viewscreen, as the sensors adjusted the scale. It made it impossible to judge how far away they were, but a countdown appeared in one corner of the monitor to let them know how long until they docked. Duggan regretted he’d not brought a hand-held tablet with him, since he dearly wanted to start checking the technical capabilities of the warship. He’d been so focused on other things when he’d packed his few belongings into a kitbag that he’d forgotten to do so.
The external image of the ES Terminus changed. The warship no longer remained static on the screen – it came closer and closer. The docking countdown indicated there were only a few minutes to go and the people in the passenger bay started to shift impatiently with the imminence of their arrival. A port opened towards the rear of the Terminus, appearing as an area of image-intensified darkness against the grey alloy.
“Even got our own shuttle bay,” said Flores nervously.
“How else did you think we were going to get onboard?” asked Dorsey. “Put on a suit and float over the gap?”
Flores didn’t rise to the bait. “Yeah, maybe I didn’t think it through.”
The unlit dock filled most of the screen and Duggan admitted to himself he wouldn’t have enjoyed trying to fit into the bay with the transport under manual control. There were some things you just had to trust to the computers. There was no sensation of deceleration, though the view from outside indicated they’d slowed to a crawl. A gentle thump was followed by the clunking sounds of magnetic clamps latching onto the transporter’s hull. A green light appeared over the door, to let them know it was unlocked and safe to open. Duggan didn’t wait. He stabbed at the release button with his forefinger and tapped his foot for the few seconds it took for the door to open outwards and form a ramp.
Chains of Duty Page 2
