When the Stars Fade (The Gray Wars) (39 page)

             
Charley smiled and shook his head. He could
n’
t argue with the money, but this new boss was a trip and a half. How she ever managed to get into a leadership position was beyond him. Still, she mostly kept out of the way, and tha
t’
s how he liked it. A symbol popped up on his screen and he tapped the monitor to open the message.

             
Commander DeHar
t’
s image popped up on Charle
y’
s console. The silver TN badge from his lapel had been replaced with a golden oval disk, a black VII centered in a seven-point star embossed on the shiny metal. Seventh Section was a designation for a rapid response unit. Charley swallowed hard. He had
n’
t expected to have military traffic this early in the day. Life aboard the relay worked on New Eden time, which was the local
s’
way of saying a relaxed schedule.

             
“Captain, this is New Eden control, how can we assist you
?
”

             
Sam spoke softly, a sign he was in a bad mood
.“
The Battle Group needs an open coordinate to occupy immediately. W
e’
re going to burn in hot, so clearance space has to accommodate a full carrier group
.
”

             
“Uh, yes. Of course.
I’
ll see wha
t’
s available
.”
Charley typed rapidly, his pulse running a bit faster than normal. H
e’
d learned long before that the military never moved anywhere on a whim. Taking that large a group through FTL came with risks, such as losing half the ships to a bad exit window. If they were chancing a bull run through Blue Space, something serious was happening
.“
What is the largest vessel that will be exiting
?
”

             
“TFC
Midway
is leading the group, and
Valley Forge
is flying alongside
.
”             

             
A supercarrier and a supercruiser? It had to be bad news. Charley tapped in the information into his charts and allowed the computer to process the information. By comparing the different flight paths expected over the course of the day, the system could identify a safe plot of space to enter, given the margin of error that accompanied a blue jump. Colored lines appeared on his map, showing projected Stride signatures based on current ship information. Slower-moving vessels would see these lines as well and know to steer clear. FTL exit points were shown as red, yellow or green spheres depending on estimated time of arrival and the size of the vortex needed.

             
Charley chanced a question while the data compiled
.“
Captain, is there something we need to know? Should I alert SP
?
”

             
DeHart clenched his jaw tight, the vein on his right temple swelling
.“
If there is anything to report, yo
u’
ll find out through the proper channels
.”
It was a polite way of saying
none of your goddamn business
.

             
“Right, sir
,”
Charley said
.“
I need a point of origin and expected departure time
.
”

             
Sam looked over his shoulder and reached out of frame. He returned with a small blue tablet and tapped the screen to refresh the numbers
.“
Orders are to leave no later than 0200 Sol standard. Terra node will be the first relay. Nova Centauri the second. And we should approach from Galleon station
.
”

             
He input the coordinates and waited. Moments later, a plotted course popped up
.“
Captain, I have a pretty tight corridor near Rhea, a cakewalk past Atlas and a hit-or-miss by True Fall
.
”

             
Sam considered the options
.“
How far out will the cakewalk put us
?
”

             
“Atlas is on the far side of our orbit, but right now it will give you the least interference from Eros. Galleon will slow your entrance, that node is using older signals. Figure yo
u’
ll arrive 1900 local time. You could stride into New Eden space within an hour of arrival, and the only traffic that way is an observation post for the academies
.
”

             
“Roger, w
e’
ll take the cakewalk. Thank you, New Eden. Transmitting authorization codes. W
e’
ll see you later today
.”
The line went dead.

             
Charley wiped his forehead. At least the Captain had
n’
t pressed for the exit by True Fall. That moon must have some sort of magic metal at its core for all the problems it caused the nearby relay. Still, a ten-hour burn through Blue Space was more than just a need for haste. A pit formed in his stomach, and he considered sending his wife a message. He decided to wait and see what happened next. The situation could
n’
t be too bad, or they would know about it already. That was the one perk of working the station. They heard the news of the galaxy before anyone else. New York was a mess but it was being handled, at least according to the media. And the Boxti had
n’
t been sighted since Tallus, so the war was on hold for the time being.

             
As his heart rate slowed, Charley remembered to call out his report
.“
Attention. Large group will enter at Atlas via Galleon at 1900 local, priority red. Keep space around the planet clear
.”
Satisfied, he settled back into his chair, reassuring his mind that whatever was about to go down, he was surely in the best place to weather the storm.

              *              *              *              *              *

              He awoke to blue light. The void had
n’
t changed its appearance once during the past few hours. Cameron longed to know where he was, but just thinking about his situation caused him to panic. A ship this size had never before survived in Blue Space. Sure, probes had been launched into the vortex before, but only when there trips had been carefully mapped out and controlled by larger vessels and nodes. One flight engineer had said that it was like a snowball in hell. There was no chance.

             
Cameron fought to think back to his training on Titan, to the lessons h
e’
d had regarding hyperspace and traveling through it. As it had been explained, wormholes existed of their own accord, and the original proposal for intergalactic travel had been to use the natural superhighways of space to branch out from the Sol System. After losing several unmanned expeditions, the idea had been scrapped. Instead, manmade tunnels would serve to guide humanity out of its home system.

             
There had been a professor, a doctor from some prestigious Siberian university, who had made a controversial theory part of his curriculum. His supposition had been that, given miraculous advances in technology, Mankind could use hyperspace as easily as it used Stride drives. That the vortices would become stable environments for ships to travel through, regardless of size. None of it was proven, and most of the cadets called him out on the ridiculous notions. At the time, FTL travel was still only a dream.

             
Cameron growled and pounded on the console. None of this helped him. He was
n’
t a scientist, he was a pilot. Even if he had a working knowledge of Blue Space, he doubted it would help. His Phoenix was a wreck, but even fully functional had no way to navigate hyperspace. Restless, he punched his radio back on. H
e’
d been making calls whenever awake, careful to use as little power as possible. The air filters still showed another twenty hours reserve, but they drained frighteningly fast when other portions of the ship came online. He wondered how much time h
e’
d burned through in those first hours when h
e’
d awoken, as h
e’
d tried to fly around the void in search of an opening.

             
“Mayday, mayday. This is Lieutenant Cameron Davis, whiskey 9212. I am in need of immediate assistance. Can anyone hear me
?”
Static. Nothing new.

             
He rested his head against the canopy and closed his eyes. This was a hell of a way to die. Not like George. H
e’
d gone out a hero, a blaze of glory that would be retold again and again by young cadets still wearing their training greens. Cameron squeezed his eyes shut, feeling tears burn their way out. H
e’
d cried plenty since h
e’
d woken in the vortex. It still did
n’
t feel real, that George was gone for good. It had happened so quickly, so unfairly. And now this. There was no way out, no hail Mary play that could save him. His oxygen reserves would fail and he would die. Cameron practiced deep breathing to slow his racing heart, but the sensation of falling was overwhelming.

             
A sudden alarm tore him from his moment of self pity. The air filters were showing a failure in the carbon webbing. The estimated time remaining dropped, down to six hours. Cameron immediately shut off the power to the radio and killed all non-essential functions. The alarm shut off, and the timer climbed to nine. He sat in darkness, the only light the ghostly glow of the in-between.

             
“Come on
,”
Cameron said to no one
.“
Cut me some fucking slack. Please
.
”

-                           
VIII                            -

              Unknown to humans, the Drova system served as a hub of travel for the galax
y’
s sentient species long before dinosaurs roamed Earth. The planetoid-sized relay station dwarfed any structure made by the Terrans. It rivaled the moon it orbited, and in fact many who traveled through that sector of space thought the relationship went the other way around. With powerful satellites and a star map that covered almost every known point in the Milky Way, Drova was the key to controlling the galaxy.

             
In a point of history no longer remembered by the civilized species, Drova was managed by a collective of sentient beings. No one alien race controlled the powerful station. Its construction as well as its maintenance and operation helped continue a peaceful alliance that bordered on actual friendship between the varied creatures of the galaxy. The success of the monument was so great that it began a period once known as the Enlightened Era. It was thought that the universe would never again know war. But nature, or fate, would not allow that.

             
At a point in time no one can place, one of the early races launched an expedition to the brightest center of the galaxy, where the systems clustered so tight that one could hardly throw a stone without hitting a new species. On this journey, near a magnificent crop of stars, a planet was found. It sat in the perfect center of a gravitational tug of war. Gas giants surrounded the heavenly body, protecting it from the violent scrum caused by the myriad of starts fighting for control of the system. That life could exist in such a state was thought impossible, but the expedition landed to learn more.

             
It was there, on that paradox of existence, that they found the Boxti.

-                           
IX                            -

              The trucks raced forward, nearing the Alpha fort. Immediately, bullets bounced off the road all around them. The lead Jackal weaved back and forth, trying to make his vehicle as small a target as possible. He grabbed the radio from the console and keyed the mic.

             
“Any station this net, we are coming in hot. Hostiles in pursuit. Need that gate open ASAP
!”
No answer came, just the crackle of static
.“
Any Alpha unit, we need support now
!
”

             
Once the trucks swung into view, the gates opened immediately. Soldiers came into the courtyard to see what the commotion was, and to learn whether there was still enemy to kill. Zev stood in the doorway to his barracks watching the vehicles come in. Something caught his attention. There were a few soldiers in the first truck, but few in the second. The
y’
re uniforms seemed oddly colored. They were almost tan. He squinted, thinking he simply could
n’
t see them in the dying light. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end.