Nullifier (Fire and Rust Book 6)

by Anthony James

  A thought came to Griffin. “What’s the state of the battleship?” he asked.

  “You’re wondering if it’ll fly,” said Dominguez.

  “Yes I am. Stop reading my mind.”

  “Captain Conway has yet to locate anything which resembles a bridge, sir,” said Kenyon. “He’s continuing his search for intel.”

  “Oh crap. The Raggers deployed another incendiary on top of the battleship, sir,” said Lieutenant Murray. “They killed Captain Elliot and Captain Zival’s squads.”

  “Damn. How many have we got left?” asked Griffin.

  “Seventy-eight including Captain Conway and his squad.”

  A second incendiary followed and more soldiers died. Griffin struggled to contain his mounting fury and for the hundredth time he wished he could do something more than sit and watch.

  “They’re winning this,” said Kroll angrily. “How long until Admiral Yeringar decides that enough is enough?”

  “We can’t leave Glesia, Lieutenant.”

  “And we can’t leave it to the Raggers either.”

  “The only solution involves Admiral Yeringar authorizing the deaths of our ground troops.”

  “I don’t want that any more than you do, sir.”

  Griffin’s stubble prickled with cold sweat and he resisted the urge to remove his flight helmet and scratch it. The glimmerings of an idea were forming – a plan for which he would surely never obtain clearance. Nevertheless, he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

  “How big a blast will those tharniol detonators produce, Lieutenant Kroll?”

  “Not that large. When the main drive goes up, that’s when we’ll see the fireworks.”

  “It’s still not going to be any greater in magnitude than an incendiary burst?” Griffin asked with interest.

  “No, sir. I wouldn’t like it to happen in my coffee cup, but in terms of explosive potential, our largest conventional armaments make an exploding tharniol drive look tame in comparison.”

  “An incendiary in itself wouldn’t destroy a fleet warship, would it?” Griffin mused.

  “Not a chance, sir,” said Jackson. “Even a light cruiser has thick enough plating to withstand the heat for a long time. It wouldn’t look pretty when the flames burned out and most of its external armaments would not be operational, but I reckon it would fly.”

  “So, an exploding tharniol drive wouldn’t disable a warship, even if it happened in close proximity.”

  “The explosive force is different to an incendiary, but I don’t think so. The intention here on Glesia is to hit the Sekar battleship with as much tharniol as possible, rather than for the initial blast to rip it apart,” said Kroll. “What are you getting at here, sir?”

  “I am getting at something,” Griffin confessed. “I’m not sure if it’s viable.”

  “Maybe you could tell us what it is,” said Dominguez sweetly. “That way we can let you know our opinions on its viability.”

  Griffin felt suddenly uncomfortable. “I’d like to get onto that battleship.”

  Nobody spoke for a few moments.

  “What will that achieve, sir?” asked Dominguez.

  “Like you said – I’m wondering if it’ll fly.”

  “It’s a Sekar ship.”

  “Not anymore.”

  “They controlled it. What makes you believe any of the original systems are in place or operational?”

  “If they aren’t, then I’ll be no worse off than Captain Conway and those other soldiers. We said we’d protect them and we didn’t hold up our side of the bargain. I figure I owe it to everyone down there to see if I can help out.”

  “By flying an alien spaceship away when it’s crashed in the middle of a warzone?” asked Dominguez accusingly. “You know nothing about that battleship, sir. The chances of it being flight ready are slim and, if its propulsion comes online, the chances of you working out how to fly it are…” She brought herself up short. “I guess if anyone can fly that thing, it’s you.”

  “I can’t think of any other way for us to come out on top,” said Griffin. He didn’t need to explain himself, but his crew deserved something. “The way it’s going, Hass-Tei-112 will control the flashpoint until his reinforcements arrive. When that happens, we’ll be lucky if half of AF1 makes it to lightspeed. And you can bet your bottom dollar we’ll be going home empty handed.”

  “We got the death pulse schematics,” said Jackson.

  “They’re no longer enough, Lieutenant. Just because we have them safe it doesn’t mean we can turn tail and leave the Raggers to pick up the rest without opposition. We’ve got to fight tooth and nail for everything on Glesia. These aren’t the losers’ scraps – they might hold the key to the survival of our entire species.”

  “I didn’t mean we should settle, sir.”

  “I know that, Lieutenant. I see failure approaching and I’m going to do whatever’s necessary to change the outcome.”

  “How do you intend getting onto the battleship, sir?” asked Dominguez softly.

  Griffin’s plan was so half-formed he hadn’t got that far yet. His brain obliged him with an answer. “One of those Vipers. It could join with an attack group flying over the flashpoint zone. If I wait in the forward airlock, I could get onto the ground and the spaceship would be away in seconds.”

  “What about us?”

  “You join with the crew on the other ships in the fleet and you give those Raggers hell.”

  “I don’t think so, sir,” said Dominguez with what sounded suspiciously like mutiny in her voice.

  “Do you really think Admiral Yeringar will agree to any of this, sir?” asked Kroll in disbelief. “You’re talking like the plan has been agreed already.”

  “I think Admiral Yeringar has a streak of the gambler in him, Lieutenant. Even if he doesn’t, I’m about to offer him a choice with almost zero downside and with potentially unlimited upsides.”

  “Just like buying a lottery ticket?” said Shelton brightly.

  “I’d like to think the chances of success are slightly greater in this instance.”

  “Assuming Admiral Yeringar agrees, are you decided?” asked Dominguez.

  “I don’t want to be a spectator, Lieutenant.”

  “I’m coming too. Please make my wishes clear when you speak to the admiral.”

  Griffin could have resisted and he could have ordered Dominguez to stay. He knew her well enough that either risked causing irreparable damage to their relationship – a relationship that hadn’t yet been given an opportunity to get off the ground.

  “Are you sure you want this?” he asked. “If Admiral Yeringar says no to either of us, I won’t go against his orders.”

  “He’ll agree to it, sir. Like you said. He’s got that streak in him. Besides, he wants to come out on top the same as we all do.”

  “Get me a channel to Admiral Yeringar. A private channel.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Kenyon. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Yeringar had a lot on his plate and a full two minutes went by before he came into the channel. His voice was gruff and his words brusque.

  “Speak quickly, Captain Griffin. Your comms man tells me this is important.”

  “Yes, sir, I believe it is.”

  Years of battle in both the Fangrin navy and the ULAF meant that most of the dithering, indecisive officers had long ago been found out and moved into more suitable roles. Admiral Yeringar was neither dithering nor indecisive. He listened to Griffin’s proposal and agreed to it immediately.

  “Take what action is necessary to make it work, Captain Griffin. I anticipate a requirement for the Broadsword and Gradior soon, so do not delay. Captain Isental is an excellent officer. Please include him in the operation. Coordinate everything through the Revingol’s comms team.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Griffin was expecting the channel to be cut, but Yeringar remained for long seconds without saying anything.

  “A Fangrin would pride himself on
such a plan.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  This time the channel did fall silent and Griffin was left to contemplate the enormity of what he’d got himself into.

  Chapter Nine

  The squad gathered in the room at the top of the stairs. A brief search uncovered several more of the life-drained aliens. The medic, Corporal Brice, connected her med-box to see if it would gather any data. As expected, it came up blank.

  “Maybe I should stop carrying this thing around with me,” she said, giving the box a nudge with her foot.

  “As soon as you leave it, Kemp will get his arm blown off or something,” said Warner.

  Brice had no real intention of abandoning her kit. She detached the probes and folded over the top flap which protected the equipment. With a quiet grunt of effort, she shrugged her arms into the handles and got the pack comfortable.

  Corporal Freeman relayed the next surprise. “Sir, we’re getting some company.”

  “Some of Colonel Thornton’s soldiers have come through the hull opening?”

  “No, sir. One of the Brightstar’s Vipers is going to attempt a drop off at the entrance. Captain Griffin is coming, along with a Fangrin officer.”

  “What the hell for?” asked Conway’s mouth before his brain could add things up. “They hope this battleship is operational?”

  “Must be, sir. Sounds like the rest of the operation is going badly.”

  “At least they aren’t sitting on their hands and watching it happen.”

  “No, sir. We’ve been ordered to step up our search for the bridge and for anything else which might assist Captains Griffin and Isental.”

  Conway wasn’t sure exactly how much he could step it up without exposing his soldiers to additional danger. “We’ll do what we can, when we can. Same as it always was.” He sighed and gestured towards the nearest corpse. “Have you passed on details of this discovery to the Revingol?”

  “Yes, sir and I received an acknowledgement.”

  “I suppose they’ve got more important things to worry about than another new species of alien.”

  “I don’t think it’s news these days.”

  “Seems not.” Conway laughed. Fifty years ago, this would have been the biggest discovery in the entire Unity League. Now, it was hardly anything to blink at. One more corpse to step over on the nonstop journey to death or victory.

  “Think I should have a look at these consoles, sir?” asked Freeman.

  “Leave it for the moment, Corporal. You’ll get your chance. Maybe.”

  Sergeant Lockhart wasn’t too interested in the corpses or the new tech. Having walked around the perimeter of the room, he reported his findings.

  “This door we came through contains tharniol,” he said. “As does the wall.” He pointed right. “That wall also contains tharniol, while these other two do not.”

  “What do you conclude, Sergeant?”

  “Whoever built this spaceship knew about the Sekar and they knew how to defend themselves. This time something went wrong.”

  “A mystery for later.”

  “Yes, sir. If we get this ship airborne it might become important for us to know.”

  “I agree, Sergeant. Our priority is the bridge.”

  “Definitely, sir. Think this ship will fly?”

  “It’ll be interesting if we pull it off.”

  The room contained nothing else that required further delay. Sticking to his plan of heading towards the forward section, Conway chose the appropriate exit. The door was closed, but it responded to his touch on the access panel. On the far side, a short corridor led to another door, also closed.

  “Alien script,” said Barron, squinting at blue letters on the door’s surface.

  Conway didn’t spend too long staring. The text was angular with lots of straight lines, and his suit computer couldn’t understand the words. Once everyone was ready, he opened the door and found another room about the same size as the previous one. Featureless grey cubes of varying sizes were arranged on the floor, none of them more than waist high. The air was colder than elsewhere and Conway’s environmental sensor informed him that the cubes were a lower temperature than the ambient.

  To the left of the room, a dozen large screens were fixed to the top of a semi-circular console. Many of the screens displayed an image.

  “More corpses,” said Kemp, indicating a couple of life-drained bodies lying nearby. “The crew.”

  “Steps leading up,” said Barron, looking at the stairwell exiting the opposite wall. “I’ve never been on a spaceship where the bridge is down some steps.”

  Conway grunted with humor at the words. “There’s always an exception to the rule, Corporal.”

  “Until I see that exception, I’ll deny it exists, sir.”

  Ignoring the steps for the moment, Conway approached the console with its screens. It didn’t have a seat and no corpse lay in front of it. His eyes moved over the images.

  “Security monitoring station,” he said.

  Lieutenant Rembra appeared alongside him. “Passages, rooms, corridors,” he said. “Except these ones which are blank.”

  The blank screens were switched on and Conway assumed that the lack of a feed meant that they were linked to security systems on a part of the ship which had been damaged or destroyed. He was more interested in the active feeds.

  “More bodies on that one,” he said.

  “The crew is dead,” said Rembra. “We should not waste time thinking about them.”

  The soldier part of Conway agreed with the words. The part of him that was human did not. Here on the battleship, the soldier was in control and Conway reluctantly accepted the reality of Rembra’s statement.

  “You’re right, Lieutenant. We will not concern ourselves with the crew unless their deaths provide us with clues that will benefit our fight against the Sekar.”

  “Hey, look over here, Captain,” said Private Lester.

  Conway turned to find Lester brandishing what appeared to be a meter-long grey tube with two horizontally protruding cylinders at one end and a molded handle between them.

  “What’s that you’ve got, Private?”

  “I don’t know, sir. I found it on the floor near one of these dead aliens.”

  “Give it here,” said Conway, curious to learn what it was.

  The object was much lighter in weight than he expected. The tube was about two inches in diameter, with a three-quarter-inch hole at one end. Each of the two cylinders was about four inches in diameter and they narrowed where they joined the main tube. Conway turned the device over and discovered two small indentations on the middle handle.

  “A gun,” he concluded.

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” said Lester. “Definitely a gun.”

  “Fire it, sir,” said Kemp. “See how an alien rifle matches up to a Gilner.”

  The long-buried child in Conway came to the fore. He gave the object one last check to make sure it wasn’t obviously broken. It seemed fine and it was beautifully crafted from a lightweight alloy unknown to his suit sensor.

  “Stand back,” he said.

  The weapon wasn’t as unwieldy as Conway imagined. His front hand rested comfortably on the barrel and the cylinders – which he guessed contained ammunition – made the gun nicely balanced once he had a good grip on it. The end of the tube was rounded off and it found a natural place where his arm and shoulder met.

  “Let’s see how this thing works,” he said, pointing it towards the wall a few meters from the steps. Private Berg was guarding and he ducked out of sight.

  “Hey, watch it, sir!”

  The ergonomics of the device meant that Conway’s trigger finger naturally landed on one of the two indentations. He squeezed it gently upwards. The weapon hummed and he felt it jump a fraction in his grip. At the same time, a bullet cracked against the wall, producing a visible indentation.

  “Do it again, sir!” said Kemp, getting excited at the alien weapon.

&
nbsp; Conway squeezed his finger into the indented trigger again, producing the same result as last time. Following this second shot, he pressed and held the trigger to see if the weapon had an automatic mode. It did, though the discharges had a tiny interval between them. The barrel hummed, the recoil was insignificant and the bullets clattered against the wall, each one making a significant distortion in the metal.

  After a few seconds, the gun fell silent and Conway lowered it with a feeling of profound disappointment.

  “I never thought I’d see the day when I’d fire something which made a Gilner look obsolete.”

  “Electromagnetic coils - just like in a railgun,” said Rembra. “We Fangrin have been working to miniaturize this technology for many years. Here we see a working example.”

  Private Warner made a dismissive sound. “That thing doesn’t even have sights on it, sir. If you aren’t a crack shot, you’re never going to hit anything moving.”

  Conway raised the gun once more. Being careful not to point it at anyone, he pressed the second indentation. This time, a section of the barrel lifted upwards. A screen, which hadn’t been visible before, illuminated and Conway looked at it.

  “Electronic crosshairs,” he said. Something about the clarity of the image suggested the gun’s sights had a built-in sensor to ensure any target was visible in a variety of conditions.

  The gauss rifle’s twin magazines were empty and Conway placed it reverently on the ground. “Private Kemp, put a single Gilner shot into that wall. Someplace we’ll see it.”

  Kemp fired once and Conway went over to inspect the result. As he expected, the Gilner round had produced a far less noticeable impact mark on the wall than the alien gun.

  The spent rounds were scattered around the floor and Conway picked one up. He guessed it had once been perfectly round, but now it was a thin disk of metal.

  “Tharniol,” he said. “Might even be solid.”

  “It didn’t save these poor bastards,” said Warner.

  “This vessel was engulfed by a Sekar as big as the whole damn ship,” said Barron. “I don’t think a few tharniol bullets would be enough.”