Fractured Horizons (Savage Stars Book 2)

by Anthony James

  “I bet Admiral Fraser is shitting himself that he’s been pushed to the frontline,” said Eastwood.

  Recker had no sympathy. “He should embrace the opportunity, Lieutenant.”

  Maybe he’ll come out of it a better man.

  “Here comes the Shock and Awe,” said Burner.

  “Monitor the particle wave,” Recker instructed. “Just in case.”

  “Definitely one of ours, sir.”

  The Shock and Awe entered local space a hundred thousand kilometres away and began executing evasive manoeuvres at once. The cruiser joined the battle network and the commanding officer banked to join the fleet.

  “We’ve been issued a synchronisation code, sir,” said Burner. “The destination checks out as the Agarvand system.”

  “Home to Pinvos,” said Recker. “Accept the code.”

  The synch codes ensured that every ternium drive on the battle network would fire at the same time and with the same output. It was an excellent method to ensure a fleet arrived in the same place and at the same time. Variations happened, but generally not enough to cause problems at the destination.

  With the Expectation’s lightspeed drive whining at increasing volume, Recker checked out the final ship in the fleet. The heavy lifter Titan wasn’t as large as the Daklan equivalent which had arrived at Etrol and Oldis, but at 10,000 metres, it was no minnow. In terms of design, it bore a striking resemblance to the planetary dredgers, and Recker believed they shared many components. Where the dredgers had lasers and gravity suction chutes, the lifters had massive underside doors.

  “It’s going to be tight squeezing a tenixite converter in there,” said Eastwood.

  “I’m sure someone did the maths, Lieutenant.”

  Despite his outward confidence, Recker wasn’t so sure one of the alien cylinders would fit. Lengthwise there should be room, but the converters had a 2000-metre diameter and that would present a challenge to the lifter crew.

  “Can’t worry about everything,” he muttered.

  A few minutes later, the Expectation’s ternium drive achieved a state of readiness. The synch code held the launch for long seconds, presumably because the other destroyers were fitted with slower cores than the newer Expectation.

  “Come on, come on,” said Recker, tapping the arm of his chair impatiently. The howl of the engines filled the bridge and he could sense their eagerness to be unleashed.

  At thirteen minutes, the drive fired and the fleet entered lightspeed.

  Chapter Four

  After two weeks on the Adamantine base, Recker was already coiled up and realized that a ten-day journey would be a test of his willpower. Rather than permit circumstances to rule his state of mind, he determined to keep himself occupied. Unfortunately, the options were limited. The Expectation’s small gym was in high demand and the ceilings of the interior passages were so low that it wasn’t easy to run circuits. Aside from that, the options were reading or watching shows from the on-demand TV databanks. With such a short list of distractions, Recker made the best of what was available.

  One morning, halfway into the journey, Recker was on the treadmill, with Aston running alongside. The gym was tiny and the only other equipment was a surprisingly unutilised rowing machine.

  “This place could do with some music,” said Aston. She had a good pace going – enough for a sheen of sweat to form on her exposed skin.

  “It doesn’t help,” said Recker.

  “Not a lover of music, huh?”

  For some reason, the question had Recker stumped. “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know?” Aston grinned. She had an open manner and could ask prying questions in a way that didn’t offend. The way she fitted in everywhere made it easy to forget she was only twenty-eight.

  “My parents never listened to it at home,” Recker admitted. “Maybe it passed me by.”

  “That’s the trouble with being an only child - you get a sheltered upbringing. And music never passes you by. One day it’ll sneak up and before you know it, you’ll think it’s the best thing ever.”

  “I’ll watch out for the moment, Commander. I need something other than bare walls.”

  “Bare walls and enemies, sir.”

  “Here it comes,” said Recker dryly.

  Aston said her piece, like she’d been waiting for the right moment. “Even when he’s a trillion klicks away, he’s got you, sir. I’ll bet Admiral Solan enjoys every moment of life.” Her face twisted. “And it’s not fair.”

  “I promised myself it would change, Commander, and it will.”

  “You should be on the fast track to promotion, sir. Instead, years of your career have been wasted because of this…” she hesitated and then came out with it. “…asshole and his bunch of sycophants. Cowards every one of them and they’re going to cost us this war.”

  “They’re not all cowards.”

  “Cowards for what they’re doing, sir.” Aston gave a short, bitter laugh, then stepped off the treadmill and came over to Recker. “Most of them are cowards when it comes to the fighting as well. If we had less like them and more like you, we’d be in a different situation. Instead, the brave ones die and the others live and perpetuate the same old shit, not once committing themselves to facing the enemy.”

  “Except Vice Admiral Fraser.”

  “Like Ken said it, Admiral Fraser doesn’t want to be here.” She sighed. “You say things are changing, sir, and it can’t come soon enough. Maybe Admiral Telar is doing the right thing, whatever it takes.”

  “He’s a man I can respect,” said Recker. “For a time, I wasn’t sure which way he fell.”

  “It’s only a shame it took him so long to reveal his hand.”

  Recker pushed a button on the panel in front of him and the treadmill stopped. He picked up the towel he’d hung over the machine’s side rail and wiped his face. “And I might yet be wrong about him.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Nor do I. We’ll find out soon enough.”

  They left the gym and went separate ways. Recker stopped at the mess for some breakfast, where he found Corporal Suzy Hendrix and Private Ken Raimi swapping tales they’d probably told a hundred times before. The soldiers were dressed in combat suits, their helmets within easy reach. They both remembered what happened when the heatwave swept through the Punisher and weren’t going to make the same mistake as their squadmates who died.

  “No sign of the new boys and girls,” said Recker, sitting down with his fruit juice and bacon-ish sandwich.

  “You’ll see them soon enough, sir,” said Raimi. His cheeks had a touch of colour which the overhead lights exaggerated. “The sergeant doesn’t let anyone sleep past 6:30am.”

  “Yeah, he puts us through our paces in the deployment bay. Seven at a time,” said Hendrix, telling Recker something he already knew.

  “The bay’s a shit place for exercise,” said Raimi. “We just got back.”

  “Corporal Hendrix’s face isn’t red like yours, Private.”

  “Yeah well, I always work hardest. Everyone knows it.”

  Hendrix gave a derisive snort but didn’t respond to the obvious exaggeration. Her hair had grown since last time and she had it tied in a short tail. She looked at Recker.

  “Five days until what, sir? Some of the guys say we’re hunting for relics, but I’d rather hear it straight from the head honcho.”

  Recker’s mouth twitched upwards at the informality. “It’s the same old, same old, Corporal. What we found on Oldis has got high command interested and now we’re out looking for more like it.”

  “Super weapons to take out the Daklan,” offered Raimi.

  “I’d take those bastards out if I could. Easy as that,” said Hendrix. She paused and something in her face changed, like a cloud drifting away from the sun. “Or maybe I wouldn’t. Not unless I was forced to choose between them and us.”

  “Getting soft, Corporal?” asked Raimi.

  “Nah. Just seems to me
that a weapon which can take out an annihilator on its lowest setting isn’t something we want to turn to maximum and aim at a populated world, no matter who’s living there.”

  “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” said Recker. “Sometimes the threat is all you need to force peace.”

  “Peace ain’t coming, sir,” said Raimi. “I only dream of war.”

  “Bullshit, Private,” said Hendrix, laughing out loud. “You’ve got a week’s pay down with Drawl that we’ll be drinking in a Daklan bar within the year.”

  “Hey, don’t remind me,” said Raimi, looking pained.

  “I’ll remind you not to lay bets when you’ve been drinking.”

  “A week’s pay to find that out is a cheap lesson,” said Recker.

  He finished eating and took his leave, putting his tray into the replicator’s disposal slot on the way out. He needed a shower, but since he wasn’t due on shift for another hour, decided to take a walk around the ship. So far, the journey hadn’t been so bad and he was pleased to find that the soldiers no longer greeted him with sullen stares and surly acknowledgements. There was nothing like a hard-fought victory to help people recognize the ones who were doing their best.

  As well as the improved attitudes, the overall morale was better than expected given that the war was going badly and the common perception was that neither high command nor the Representation cared. Recker knew full well that most of them did care, they just lacked the leadership qualities required to turn things around.

  With the HPA at total war, the shift in attitudes was slowly being recognized. Money was pouring in and suddenly the newfound determination to claw back the ground lost to the Daklan was visible wherever people looked. Recker couldn’t allow himself to believe that it was already too late, but deep down, he was worried that the enemy hadn’t so far been trying too hard and that once they realized the HPA was giving it everything, the Daklan would respond by turning the screw.

  He thought back to his recent conversation in the mess room. Hendrix had grasped the ramifications of either side holding a weapon like the tenixite converters and Recker understood them just as well. The only thing stopping one species massacring the other in the war was the fact that each side had managed to keep their main population centres so well hidden. If that ever changed, Recker didn’t know what would happen. With the amount of firepower in a modern cruiser or battleship, the destructive potential of the tenixite converters was distinctly overkill.

  Taking the long route to his quarters, Recker stopped to watch Sergeant Vance putting half of his squad through their paces. The Expectation’s single bay was a fraction longer than the equivalent on a riot class. It was low ceilinged like everywhere else and the channel running along the middle of the floor made the space seem more akin to a confluence room in an underground sewer.

  That channel gave access to the single deployment vessel. On top of that, a destroyer carried two Puncher medium tanks, these accessed through shafts in the port and starboard forward corners of the bay.

  It was cold down here and the soldiers wore both suits and helmets. Sergeant Vance was animated, making angry chopping motions with his hand as he ordered the troops to sprint from one end of the bay to the other in a full loadout.

  Recker didn’t stay long and returned to his room where he showered and then returned to the bridge. Everything was running smoothly. Hardware failures at lightspeed weren’t unheard of, but generally it was the into-lightspeed transition where they occurred and to a lesser extent when a spaceship re-entered local space.

  “Five more days of this,” said Burner, stretching like he didn’t mind one way or the other. The edge of his console was piled with empty cups and a stack of trays was building where he rested his feet.

  “Tidy that up, Lieutenant,” said Recker. “You should know better.”

  He took his seat and went through the motions of a status check. The monitoring tools reported no concerns and that was enough. Naturally, the comms receivers had nothing new - when travelling at lightspeed, the comms didn’t work in or out and the sensors wouldn’t gather any data, leaving a warship effectively isolated from everything. It was a limitation which Recker hoped the HPA would overcome at some point before his death or retirement.

  Recker often considered how strange it was that technology allowed a forty-billion-ton lump of metal and engines to travel at incredible speeds and arrive unscathed at its intended destination, yet nobody exactly understood what was happening during the process. Sure, the scientists talked about mathematical vector tunnels and non-accelerative theoretical motion. Other terms, such as lightspeed transition were used freely in the military, like everyone knew exactly what was happening behind the words.

  The remainder of the journey passed by – as they all did – and, as the re-entry time approached, the crew readied themselves. Recker noted the change in atmosphere. The bored humour fell away and the crew focused on what lay ahead.

  “Ten minutes!” said Eastwood. “We’re aiming for five million klicks from Pinvos. Given the length of the journey, we might see some divergence from the intended coordinates.”

  “We’ll deal with whatever comes, Lieutenant.” Recker turned towards Aston. “Run through the details again for me.”

  “Pinvos is planet three of six in the Agarvand system,” she replied. “The star is larger than average and Pinvos itself is one-point-five billion klicks out, meaning it’s going to be cold and barren. Other than that, we don’t have much – Agarvand is outside the sphere of our usual star charts and we only have this much data because the team on Deep Space Quad3 was hunting for the destination of the Oldis cylinder’s outward transmission.”

  Recker wasn’t upset by the lack of detail – the HPA’s area of influence was no more than a speck in the universe. It wasn’t unusual for a mission to bring him to places like this – unvisited solar systems filled with uncharted celestial bodies.

  “Once we arrive, the Trojan’s comms team will create the battle network,” he said. “From there, we’ll scan the planet and wait for Admiral Fraser’s decision on the next step.”

  “Five minutes!” said Eastwood.

  Recker settled into his seat. He didn’t know what to expect from this mission and he hoped that for once, the HPA would get a lucky break by locating something both undefended and useful which they could load into the Titan’s bay and take home for study. He smiled inwardly – every gain was hard-fought and he didn’t expect it to be otherwise at Pinvos.

  “Ten seconds!”

  The timer hit zero and the warship didn’t exit lightspeed. Two tense minutes passed and Recker looked to Lieutenant Eastwood for answers.

  “What’s happening, Lieutenant?”

  “I’m not sure, sir. The moment I know, you’ll know.”

  No sooner had Eastwood spoken the words than Recker detected the ternium drive switching over. The Expectation entered local space and he gave the engines full power. The surging acceleration pushed him into his seat and he watched the sensor feeds, waiting for them to calibrate.

  “Get on with those scans,” Recker ordered.

  “Still waiting, sir. The comms system is online and searching for a battle network. Looks like we got here first.”

  “We’re two minutes late. We can’t be first.”

  The sensors came up and Burner started a local area scan, while Eastwood watched for incoming particle waves.

  “Local area scan clear,” said Burner. He sounded puzzled. “We landed off the mark, sir. We’re closer to twenty-five million klicks from Pinvos.”

  “Two minutes late and twenty million klicks off-target,” said Recker. “I’d like some answers.”

  Aston and Eastwood got on it, while Burner extended his scan sphere. Once Recker was convinced there were no hostiles nearby, he slowed the destroyer and set it on a course that followed the distant Pinvos along its orbital track.

  “I think I understand what happened, sir,” said Eastwood after only a f
ew seconds. “The synchronisation algorithm we received from the Trojan didn’t detect that we were only at 99% of our maximum propulsion output. That screwed up the vector and we ended up here.”

  “If we’re late, why’s there nothing on the battle network?” asked Recker. “Please double-check we’re in the right place.”

  “There’s no doubt, sir,” said Burner. “This is the Agarvand system and this planet here is Pinvos.”

  An image of the planet came up on the screen. The Expectation had more capable sensor hardware than a riot class, but twenty-five million klicks was too far for them to obtain a sharp feed.

  “Another rock,” said Recker. “So where the hell is the rest of the fleet?”

  “I don’t know, sir,” said Burner. “We’re in range to join any HPA battle network, even if we consider a worst-case divergence over the ten-day journey.”

  “And we were only two minutes later than expected,” said Aston. “That’s not enough time for the fleet to have travelled blind side.”

  “Send an FTL comm to base,” snapped Recker in sudden anger. “Tell them we’ve arrived, but there’s no sign of anyone else.”

  The FTL comm had a long way to travel and he was under no illusions that he’d receive a response any time soon. Recker wasn’t planning to wait it out. On the other hand, the situation was completely unfathomable. The fleet was either late or it was elsewhere and Recker refused to countenance the idea that the other warships had somehow been destroyed in the two minutes since their arrival.

  Despite his refusal to accept the possibility, the idea wormed its way into his head and he couldn’t shake it out.

  Chapter Five

  “Commander Aston, I want you to assist Lieutenant Burner. Focus on the area where the fleet was meant to arrive and keep scanning until you find something.

  “Are we staying at 25 million klicks?” asked Burner.

  “For the moment. This isn’t a time to fly in and hope for the best.”