by I G Hulme
Copyright © 2021 I G Hulme
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No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Published by I.G Hulme
www.ighulme.com
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HEAVEN’S CALL
BOOK THREE OF THE LUMINA SERIES
by
I G HULME
CHAPTER ONE
A DESCENT FROM HEAVEN
They gathered around the Defiance’s projection table in a stunned disbelief: Ryann, Angelique, Grayell, and Mellarnne. For what seemed like an age, none of them spoke, they just stared at the scanners in horror. All around the Defiance clustered a thousand bright points of light, hanging in space like a scattering of stars. But every star was in fact a Luminal battleship, each one a million tons of armour and weaponry.
“What should we do?” croaked Mellarnne at last. It appeared hopeless; every direction on the three-dimensional scanner was the same; the fleet surrounded them and there seemed no chance of escape. Even as they watched, other lights appeared as more Luminal ships dropped out of hyperspace.
“There’s an asteroid belt — Vandamme’s Claim, it’s about seventy minutes away — we might be able to hide in there, evade them for a while,” breathed Mellarnne, but his voice was laden with resignation. They had fought so hard to save the refugees from New Eden; they had escaped that monolithic Luminal ship, only to have it all snatched away from them.
“Grayell? Shall I give the order to make a run for the asteroid belt?”
“No.”
The word was uttered in such a quiet breath that Ryann barely caught it. His father just stared at the scanner projection unblinking, as though he were willing the scene to change.
“Grayell, we can’t take them on!” exclaimed Mellarnne, reaching for the navigation controls.
“I said no!” snapped Grayell and his eyes burned with rage. “If we make a move we’re dead.”
“So, what are you saying? We do nothing?” Ryann stepped forwards, studying the charts. “Dad, Mellarnne’s right, the Luminal fleet’s numbers are thinnest around that asteroid belt. If we can lose them in there, we might be able to —”
“This isn’t some damn planet-surfer we’re flying!” spat Grayell, and Ryann was taken aback by the ferocity of his words. “We’ve got well over two thousand people aboard the Defiance! A vessel that’s packed with enough molecular explosive to take out half the star system! I’m not going to start joyriding her through a damn asteroid field!”
Ryann felt his cheeks burning in embarrassment as his father’s words hit him. He glanced across to Angelique but she turned her face away.
There was a strained silence for a moment before Mellarnne spoke once more, trying delicately to diffuse the tension.
“Okay, you’re right Grayell, but what are you proposing?”
Ryann’s father’s gaze didn’t move from the scanners.
“They’re moving — all of them,” he whispered at last. “Some towards us, but look, these ones are heading away. It’s not us they’re after. It looks like they’re all converging on a point, somewhere over here. Where is that? There, it looks familiar.” He pointed into the display projection, towards the greatest concentration of ships.
“You’re right,” muttered Mellarnne, squinting at the readouts. “It’s the Ophid way-station, the intersection of the old trade-lanes that link the Inner Quadrant to the outer systems. There used to be that huge jump-station there — practically as big as the Mars station back in Earthspace.
“But I don’t understand, the Lumina overran this sector over six months ago. The frontline should be about four or five systems from us. Why so many ships?”
“It looks like an invasion fleet,” breathed Ryann.
“Set a course for it, follow the direction of the others.”
Grayell’s words were distant and softly spoken, but throughout the entire bridge one could have heard a pin drop.
Mellarnne just stared at his old friend in horror.
“Do it! Do it now!” called out Grayell, his voice harsh against the silence. “Set a course to match the speed of the nearest ships — same vectors.”
“Grayell, this is madness,” pleaded Mellarnne in a hushed voice so as not to be overheard.
“We’re surrounded by a fleet of enemy ships that we can’t hope to fight,” hissed Grayell. “They haven’t made a move on us, so we can only pray that they think we’re one of their own. Let’s not give them cause to suspect any different.”
Mellarnne shook his head wearily and gave the order to the helmsman. They felt the Defiance shudder as her drives engaged, following the hundreds of other battleships in a slow procession.
For the next ten minutes not a soul on the bridge spoke. All was shrouded in a strained silence as each of them waited for the faintest inkling of a deviation in course from any of the thousand Luminal ships. But eventually it became clear that Grayell had been right — their identity hadn’t been discovered, and the fleet was travelling with some other, unknown purpose.
Mellarnne was the first to speak, and his voice came as a surprise after such an overbearing stillness. “Well, it looks as though we’re safe. All Luminal ships are proceeding on a course for the Ophid way-station, no deviation.”
“Safe.” Grayell’s quiet word was no more than a whisper. “For the time-being at least. Let’s hope our luck holds for a while.” He studied the scanners, lost in his own thoughts. “Mellarnne, the course towards the way-station, does it take us closer to that asteroid field or further away?”
“Further away,” replied Mellarnne. “But we do pass another planetary cluster along our projected route.”
“Good. How long will it take us to reach the way-station at our present velocity?”
“About ten hours to the way-station, but we’ll be closest to those planets in a little over eight hours.”
“Okay, okay,” murmured Grayell, still deep in thought. “See if you can find us somewhere in that planetary cluster that we can hide if needs-be. Any signs of the ships nearby taking an interest in us?”
“They’re all moving along the same vector to the way-station — no deviation yet.”
“Good. Well, let’s hope it stays like that. We’re going to find out if all that hard work we spent on making the Defiance look like a Luminal ship pays off.
“And just in case it doesn’t: scramble all remaining fighter crews that you can pull away from the refugee fleet — I want them resupplied and ready to launch at my command. The cruisers too — I want the Hammerfall and the Katana ready to fight — get the crews from anywhere you can. I’ll take the Katana myself — if we do end up having to fight, then let’s take as many of them down with us as we can.”
Mellarnne was ashen-faced.
“But Grayell, we’ve just crammed about a hundred refugee ships into the Defiance, many of them damaged in the New Eden attack. The cruisers will never get through the refugee ships — it’s chaos out there. There are fires all over the place — they’re finding casualties in
every —”
“Just get them prepared! If we have to get out to fight then we’ll clear a path with the Hammerfall if necessary!”
Ryann turned to Grayell in shock but remained silent. There was such a fierce energy burning in his father that he had never seen before; it bordered upon mania. He stood looking on as Grayell and Mellarnne worked feverishly at the scanner table, occasionally looking up to bark orders at the flight crew. His mind drifted with fatigue and he slumped down into a nearby chair to rest. A vision of Jean-Baptiste Grande’s face filled his mind, and he realised that his hand had gone up to the Reliquary in the pocket of his flight-suit.
“I think I’m going to get back to the Marianne. Will you be okay here?”
Angelique’s soft voice at Ryann’s side broke him from his silent reverie. He looked around in surprise to see her gazing down at him with a concerned expression.
“The Marianne?” he managed to mumble at last.
“I’m not much use here,” she said with a wry smile, gazing around the bridge. “If we need to fight then I’ll be more use with Anders and his crew.”
“Hold on, I’ll come down with you.” He went to stand, but had to steady himself as a wave of dizziness swept over him.
“I don’t think you’re in any state to be going anywhere; you need to rest up. Don’t worry, there’ll be plenty more fights to come.” Angelique gave a bleak laugh and reached out, holding his arm lightly. “Take care of him,” she said to Grayell, then turned, hurrying off towards the exit.
Ryann went to follow her but felt a hand restraining him.
“Ryann, where are you going?” asked Grayell in a low voice.
“I’m going down to the landing-bays to prep the Interceptor I got from New Eden,” he replied in a weary voice. “You said you wanted all pilots ready in their ships.”
Grayell peered anxiously around the chaos of the bridge as personnel worked frantically at their stations.
“I want you aboard the Katana,” said Grayell at last, leaning in close to make sure that he wasn’t overheard.
“The Katana? Why Dad?” asked Ryann in a confused tone. The Katana was one of the cruisers, the fastest ship in the Ghost-Runners’ fleet; a military reconnaissance vessel fitted with stealth-runners.
“We need to be ready to fight, and I want you with me this time.”
Ryann turned to go, limping slowly off in the direction Angelique had taken. “I’m more use in a fighter Dad — I’ll be okay,” mumbled Ryann, before Grayell pulled him up once more. This time he didn’t let go, and Ryann twisted his arm uncomfortably.
“This isn’t a damn discussion group Ryann!” snapped Grayell, and once again Ryann was taken aback by the ferocity in his father’s voice. “When I give an order I don’t expect it to be endlessly questioned by anyone — least of all my damn son!”
There was a moment of shocked silence around the bridge before the crew returned to their duties. Ryann felt a pang of fear in his stomach before a wave af anger washed over him.
“The Katana? So, why that ship?” he spat. “Why not the Hammerfall?”
“Stop behaving like a child Ryann,” replied his father sternly. “You know why.”
“I just want to hear you say it Dad,” he said in an accusatory tone. “Nothing about it being the fastest ship in the fleet? Thinking of running somewhere?”
“Just make sure you’re aboard the Katana dammit!” snapped Grayell, and stormed off, shouting out orders to the busy personnel.
Ryann just stood for a moment, glowering after his father.
“Let me know if there are any changes to the Luminal fleet,” called Grayell, turning angrily to Mellarnne. “I want all the senior flight officers in the conference room in twenty minutes.” And with that, he turned and headed towards the exit leaving Mellarnne staring after him in surprise. At the doorway he paused, as though struggling to come to some decision. After a moment, he shouted, “Ryann, with me!” and stormed off.
Ryann battled to hold down another wave of anger. He looked to Mellarnne, who just shrugged in a conciliatory manner and then went back to his work.
Ryann gave an exhausted sigh and followed his father out of the control room.
CHAPTER TWO
RANSOME
“What the hell was all that about?” demanded Ryann, catching up with Grayell as he strode purposefully along the corridor. “You have no right to speak to me like that in front of everyone! And where do you think you’re going? We’ve got half the Luminal fleet surrounding us and you’re off for a stroll? Dad!”
He pulled his father to a halt and Grayell snatched his arm angrily away.
“I don’t need to explain my every move to you or anybody!” he retorted defensively. “You’re my son, and a good kid. But you’re still just a kid. Don’t ever undermine my authority on board this ship!”
“Authority?” retorted Ryann, taken aback. “Dad, I’m on your side. But you’re not thinking clearly. You need to listen to other people. We’re so close to that asteroid field — if we adjust our course by only a few degrees, it takes us right alongside it —”
“I said no, Ryann. If we deviate from our course we’ll alert their suspicions,” said Grayell firmly.
“But, you can’t know that for sure.”
“I do know it!” he spat, a look of mania in his eyes. “I’m the only one who can know it! I’ve seen the Lumina, from inside their world — I travelled with them, I touched their minds — I know their intentions! No-one else knows it, not you, not anybody! Only me!”
Ryann looked on in shock as the change came over his father; he could see the haunt written in his eyes.
Ryann went to speak, but a gruff voice behind them made him jump:
“Grayell, what the hell’s all this about a conference of senior officers? I’ve got my pilots working flat out to repair and restock their ships and you’re pulling half my men off the docks!”
Ryann turned to see a tall and imposing figure standing uncomfortably close. He was dressed in a faded flight-suit with a leather jacket over the top and wore a pair of battered combat boots. His face was ruddy and unshaven, his skin covered in a thin film of sweat. He had a confident grin, accentuated by a toothpick held perpetually in one corner of his mouth.
“Carl,” muttered Grayell with a smile, all trace of his earlier mood gone. “Carl, you know my son Ryann don’t you? Ryann, this is Carl Ransome, Duty Officer on B-Deck — keeps our boys flying.”
The man gave Ryann a brief derisory glance then turned straight back to Grayell, continuing, “I’ve had word that we’ve jumped into trouble — that we’re not clear of the Lumina yet. Is it true?”
“Well, you shouldn’t listen to rumours Carl,” replied Grayell with a weary smile, turning to go. “That’s why I called a conference, so you can all hear what’s really going on. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
As he went to leave, Ransome placed his arm against the wall in front of him barring his way.
“I heard the entire Luminal fleet is bearing down on us! If I need to get my fighters out to battle, then there isn’t time for sitting around in a damn meeting!”
“Carl, trust me, we’re not in any immediate danger. I’ll explain everything in the conference hall.”
“Trust you?” muttered Ransome angrily. “We trusted you this far and where has it gotten us? We’ve been hiding away for months while the war is being lost all around us, and then at the first sign of trouble we run away!”
“I’ll see you in the conference hall in fifteen minutes Carl.” Grayell’s voice was firm and he pushed past the big man.
“I always had my doubts about you Grayell,” called Ransome after him. “I don’t think you have the stomach for a real fight!”
But Grayell continued down the corridor without looking back.
As Ryann went to follow, Ransome turned on him, momentarily blocking his way.
“What about you boy?” asked Ransome with a leer, leaning over Ryann. “You got the
stomach for it? Or are you scared too?”
Ryann felt a rage welling up inside and he stared fiercely into the big man’s eyes.
“Well?” hissed Ransome leaning closer. With a sudden movement, he jerked his head forward an inch making Ryann jump. The man grinned with a malign satisfaction. Ryann’s fists were balled at his side, and he felt his body tense as the adrenaline coursed through his system.
“Ryann! I need you with me.”
Grayell’s voice cut through the tension, and Ryann glanced down the corridor to see his father staring back at them. In an instant the moment had passed. Ryann pushed past Ransome, who continued to study him with that infuriating look of smug confidence.
“There’s something I need you to see,” continued Grayell, giving Ransome one last glance as he hit the call button to a nearby elevator. After a moment, the doors slid open and he stepped inside.
Ryann peered back down the corridor, but Ransome had already turned and was heading off towards the bridge. He heard the elevator doors begin to slide closed, and at the last minute Grayell reach forward, holding them open. He stared angrily at the floor, but after a moment he sighed, glancing up to his son.
“Well, are you coming?” he muttered irritably.
Ryann paused, struggling with the swirl of emotions that Ransome’s outburst had provoked. And then, still unable to meet Grayell’s gaze, he followed his father in through the doors.
They travelled upwards in a tense silence, neither of them willing to be the first to speak.
After an interminable wait, the elevator doors slid open with a quiet hiss.
Grayell led Ryann out into a cramped airlock and he watched with interest as his father opened the outer doors.
