The sharp lines and curves of the warship’s nose section were all he could see from this low vantage, though Vance retained a crystal-clear image of the whole in his mind. Seeing the vessel again made him shiver with an emotion he couldn’t quite name, and it was hard to wrench his gaze from what he knew had once been the most potent warship in the Lavorix fleet - the Ancidium excepted.

  “I would have expected to feel the death sphere more keenly here,” said Sergeant Tagra.

  It was something Vance hadn’t considered and probably should have done before he’d piloted the shuttle into the bay.

  “Perhaps the effects are uniform across the affected area,” he said.

  “Perhaps.” Tagra shrugged in a startlingly humanlike expression of uncertainty. He tapped a finger on the sensor feed. “The construction shuttles have resumed their work.”

  When Vance diverted his attention from the Gorgadar, he noticed the dozens of much smaller vessels flying purposefully across the bay. Some carried slabs of alloy or hauled billion-ton blocks of ternium. A stray missile hit one, engulfing it in white and sending its cargo towards the ground a few kilometres away.

  “Automated,” said Vance. “Let’s hope they give us some cover.”

  Keeping low, he banked to avoid another mound of the scattered debris, feeling more like a scuttling insect than ever. The next particle beam hole wasn’t far and he headed for the opening, trying not to be distracted by everything that was happening. Vance knew he had little influence over the conflict raging between the Vengeance and whatever was active in the Ancidium’s bay and he hated the thought of being helplessly destroyed while he flew the piece of crap shuttle the military had put him in.

  “Lieutenant Vance, my warship is under pressure,” said Admiral Aston on the comms.

  “I thought the death sphere was meant to have killed everyone and everything, ma’am,” said Vance.

  “The warships I’m facing are a type I haven’t seen before,” she said. “I believe they were created for internal defence only. They were probably mobilised a short time before the Ancidium was put into stasis – that would explain the speed of their response. To answer your unspoken question, I don’t believe they have a crew.”

  “How many of these warships are there, ma’am?”

  “Three, plus one destroyed. One of the interconnecting bay doors has opened and others are arriving to reinforce.”

  Vance detected a note in Aston’s voice, though he wasn’t entirely sure what it indicated. “Is your withdrawal imminent, ma’am?”

  “Not imminent, Lieutenant. I might have to bring out the big guns.”

  “The Fracture?” said Vance, guessing at her meaning.

  “Yes, Lieutenant. The Fracture.”

  Vance didn’t know whether to be excited or terrified. “Won’t that turn everything to powder including this shuttle?”

  “I’m certain it won’t affect these new Laws of Ancidium,” said Aston. “That means if you take shelter inside one, you should be safe. I’m hoping everything else will be destroyed, buying us the time we need.”

  “We’re entering the next plasma hole,” said Vance. He doubted anything he said would change the Admiral’s mind and he wasn’t going to argue her decision. “I’ll bring the shuttle to a halt midway and wait to find out what happens.”

  Aston said nothing more and exited the channel, leaving Vance to fly the shuttle. The opening in the next huge warship’s flank was exactly the same size as the previous, indicating that the Gorgadar’s particle beam had not attenuated as it sliced through the bay. Vance’s eyes looked, but his mind was thinking about the coming seconds.

  During the Lavorix war, Aston had always been there with Recker and she was another of the people Vance trusted. However, if she called it wrong, the Fracture would destroy everything in the bay, including Vance’s shuttle and the soldiers relying on him to keep them alive during the transit. He smiled inwardly. Death was never far away.

  “Entering stasis,” said Tagra.

  Once again, Vance felt nothing. For ten seconds, he and everyone in the bay had been frozen in time, yet it was as though his life had continued without interruption.

  He briefly wondered what would happen if the Firestorm’s exium unit failed, trapping him for centuries or millennia, until a rescue craft or an explorer from what would effectively be his future turned up to free everyone. This conflict in the bay would likely still continue to its conclusion, and then – if he lived – he would emerge to find everyone he knew dead and buried.

  “Shit,” he said, cursing himself for allowing his brain to daydream in a situation like this.

  Vance’s earpiece crackled.

  “Fracture discharging,” said Aston.

  Instinctively, Vance guided the shuttle towards the tunnel’s ceiling, thinking it would provide some extra shelter. With his jaw set, he told himself this wouldn’t be his last day alive.

  Chapter Ten

  “Either the Fracture did not fire, or we survived it,” said Tagra a few seconds later.

  Vance wasn’t ready to be optimistic, cautiously or otherwise. “Find out, Sergeant.”

  He held the shuttle close to the ceiling and reduced velocity, while watching carefully for protrusions which might damage the vessel. A comms channel opened.

  “Lieutenant Vance,” said Admiral Aston. Her voice was thick, like she’d been kicked in the temple and hadn’t recovered. “We have the breathing room we needed.”

  “The Fracture discharged successfully?” Vance didn’t normally ask stupid questions and he kicked himself for this one. “Apologies, ma’am, I was expecting drama.”

  “Be thankful you missed it,” said Aston. She coughed and audibly suppressed a groan. “The smaller defensive warships and the construction shuttles are gone. The Laws of Ancidium and the interrogator were immune. The Vengeance can deal with the latter, and so far, the former haven’t attacked.”

  “We’ll proceed deeper into the bay, ma’am,” said Vance. “This shuttle’s sensors are not exceptional – will the Vengeance provide assistance once the interrogator is down?”

  “Shortly, Lieutenant,” said Aston. “A note of warning – one of the connecting doors between this bay and another is open. I don’t know how far the effects of the Fracture extended. It may be the enemy will have reinforcements here soon.”

  “Copy that.”

  Vance closed the channel. For once it seemed like technology had been on his side and the Fracture had not caused a devastating outcome for him or his platoon. He shook his head in disbelief.

  “For a man who has survived so long, you have a high expectation of death, Lieutenant Vance,” said Tagra.

  The words, spoken without malice, hit Vance like a surprise punch in the solar plexus. “You’re right, Sergeant,” he said. “And it’s getting harder, not easier.”

  “Perhaps you should have hung up your guns before the outbreak of this war,” said Tagra. “Now it has begun, you will never leave.”

  The enormity of it sunk in. Vance had a wife and children he loved, and he could have retired from frontline duties long ago – all he’d needed to do was ask. And yet, he never had. Guilt crashed into him and he suddenly knew it was weakness, not strength, that had kept him from making the right decision.

  Here on this shitty, unarmed and underpowered shuttle, currently flying inside the most powerful warship in the known universe – a warship which was itself trapped in a four-million-kilometre stasis sphere – Vance came to understand how badly he might have screwed up.

  “I am sorry, Lieutenant,” said Tagra. Like many Daklan, he had the gift of insight. “This pains you.”

  “No need for apologies,” Vance growled, pushing the control sticks forward and producing a rumble from the engines. “The only person to blame is me.”

  “Promise yourself that when the war is over, you will leave and not look back.”

  “I can probably promise the first, Sergeant. The second, I really don’t know.”

  The time for talking was done and Vance focused on the tunnel exit, which was only a few kilometres ahead. Dust had begun falling across the opening and Vance noticed that the debris on the floor was no longer so clearly defined.

  “Powder,” he said. “Everything got turned to powder.”

  Eight seconds remained on the stasis timer when Vance piloted the shuttle out of the beam hole. The dust continued falling, no thicker than before, but enough to make the sensors struggle with fine detail. Before the shuttle lay the half-complete hull of yet another technological monstrosity. This next warship was almost twenty thousand metres from nose to tail, with curving sides and exposed ternium modules.

  Vance didn’t pay it much heed and instead watched the Vengeance finish off the bay’s interrogator. The two-kilometre cube, with surfaces covered in spiked antennae, was ablaze about sixty kilometres away, high and stationary near a huge, square opening in the side wall. Enormous pieces of the vessel fell to the floor in a white-hot rain and another salvo of missiles detonated against its plating.

  “It can’t hold together much longer,” said Tagra. “In fact, it may be finished already. Stasis incoming.”

  Stasis hit and the next pulse from the Firestorm cancelled it without Vance’s body realising it had happened. His eyes remained on the interrogator and, without warning, the spaceship dropped towards the floor. Down it came, trailing dust and alloy, the plasma light creating a trail in the darkness. That same light cast its glow into the connecting tunnel in the wall and Vance thought he spotted movement. The shuttle’s sensors were fooled by the contrast and he couldn’t be certain one way or another.

  “I thought I saw something in that interconnecting passage,” he said.

  “If it was anything, it is no longer visible, Lieutenant,” said Tagra. “I will make the Vengeance aware.”

  Vance didn’t like the idea that the Ancidium’s defences might recover so quickly, but he left it to Admiral Aston to check out the possible sighting and concentrated on flying the shuttle through the dust.

  All around, the debris created by the Gorgadar’s particle beam twelve years ago had been reduced to grey heaps and Vance flew the shuttle above them at a low altitude. The vacuum in the bay meant there was no turbulence to whip up the dust and the transport left no sign of its passing.

  “Time to search,” said Tagra, his brows lowered and his eyes locked on the sensor panel. “Though the Vengeance will complete the task far more rapidly.”

  Vance knew it too. A trained sensor officer on the warship could sweep this entire bay in minutes, while that same officer in the shuttle would require far more time, with no guarantee of achieving the same result.

  “There had to be a way for the enemy personnel to board their spaceships,” muttered Vance. “And it had to be more than just a single-file door in the wall somewhere.”

  The shuttle’s upper sensor array detected the Vengeance accelerating hard along the bay, rotating at as it did so to bring its nose into line with the thirty-kilometre-square opening in the wall. Seeing how tiny the warship appeared drove home to Vance exactly how lacking in firepower this mission was. Even had all twenty of the escorts made it through the stasis, they might have still been outgunned by whatever lay undiscovered elsewhere, in another of the Ancidium’s colossal bays.

  “No weapons launch detected from the Vengeance,” said Tagra. “I am scanning the bay walls for personnel doors.”

  Vance knew that even a vast warship required only a small crew, but it was likely the Lavorix put thousands or tens of thousands of troops onto their larger vessels, and that meant they’d be brought in by shuttle. Unfortunately, any parked shuttles would have been reduced to dust by the Fracture, but, since the Ancidium was unaffected by the weapon, the shuttle platforms should still be intact.

  “Look out for ledges in the walls, Sergeant,” said Vance. “Someplace big enough to have parked a few transports.”

  “Scanning,” Tagra confirmed.

  Meanwhile, the Vengeance backed away from the opening, though its nose was still pointed at whatever space lay beyond. Vance’s eyes kept going to the warship as he hunted for signs of another weapons launch.

  On his HUD, the digits were approaching zero. “Stasis incoming,” he said.

  The timer returned to thirty seconds and counted down. Vance increased the shuttle’s altitude and aimed it towards the left-hand wall with the intention of allowing Sergeant Tagra a clear view all the way to the end of the bay.

  At fifteen seconds on the HUD timer, Admiral Aston opened the comms channel again. “My sensor officer has detected a possible entry point, Lieutenant. She’s sending you the details.”

  Vance turned towards Sergeant Tagra and gave him a questioning look. Tagra didn’t meet his gaze, but gave a thumbs-up and then tapped the side of his suit helmet for good measure.

  “I have added the route line onto the tactical, Lieutenant,” he said.

  “We’ve received the information, Admiral,” said Vance into the comms. “We’re heading there right away.”

  “Here is our destination,” said Tagra.

  Like Vance had guessed, the entry point was accessed via a platform. The falling dust was clearing and the feed was much clearer, allowing him a good view. High on the side wall, and about midway along the bay, a thick slab jutted out. The sensors estimated the platform’s depth at two hundred metres and its length at nearly four hundred.

  “It looks like a good place to start,” said Vance.

  “I can’t see a door,” said Tagra. He played with the sensor focus, but wasn’t able to wring out anything better than a dust-blurred view of the platform’s facing edge.

  Vance increased altitude further, revealing more piles of dust on the top of the slab - dust he assumed had once been Lavorix shuttles.

  “Still nothing,” said Tagra.

  Despite Vance’s mental exhortations, the shuttle refused to gain any significant velocity and it felt like it was creeping towards the destination. The digits on the timer indicated there’d be one more stasis and then he’d be able to set down. Vance rolled his shoulders, keen as hell to be off this transport and with his feet on solid ground again.

  “Stasis incoming,” said Tagra.

  “Last one on this damned shuttle.”

  Like all the others, the stasis came and went, and Vance would have been non-the-wiser were it not for the timer on his HUD and the fact that he’d been told what happened when that timer hit zero.

  “We’re about to land,” said Vance on the platoon comms. “Be ready on my word.”

  He wouldn’t be giving that word until Sergeant Tagra located the door and Vance flew the shuttle slowly above the platform. The dust mounds were far smaller than he’d imagined, as if the Fracture didn’t just shatter its targets into powder, it actually reduced their mass as well. Vance suspected that was impossible, though for some reason he was curious to find out for definite. Maybe he’d bend RL Moseley’s ear if he ever got the chance.

  “The entrance,” said Tagra, zooming the sensors onto an area of the wall.

  When Vance squinted, he saw the door’s faint outline. “This is the place,” he nodded.

  “Time to test the Lavorix security.”

  “Let’s get the obliterator core ready,” said Vance, dumping the shuttle without ceremony onto the platform about twenty metres from the door. “Time to move out,” he said on the platoon channel.

  By the time Vance had gathered his gauss rifle and his Rodan, and descended the tight stairwell, most of the platoon were outside on the platform. Sergeant Gantry had a watchful eye on the floating obliterator core and he turned when Vance emerged into the passenger bay.

  “It’s waiting for instructions, sir.”

  Vance issued the remote-link command to his suit computer and, a moment later, he was connected to the core. He issued a test command, and the device floated obediently towards the exit.

  “Let’s go,” said Vance, satisfied the obliterator core was on its leash.

  He headed outside after the others, and found himself standing on top of a pile of dust. Nearby, Private Drawl, who had apparently never grown up, was enthusiastically kicking that same dust at Private Carrington.

  “There might be dead aliens mixed in with this, Carrington,” he said. “And now they’re all over your clean suit.”

  “Screw you, Drawl,” said Carrington, standing her ground.

  “Private Drawl, do I have to order Sergeant Tagra to throw you off this platform?” asked Vance.

  “No, sir, that won’t be necessary.”

  Vance would have normally made the man squirm a little longer, but this wasn’t the time. He turned 360-degrees, getting his bearings. The shuttle and the platform blocked some of the view, and the sensor in his suit didn’t work perfectly in darkness, but Vance had a reasonable sight into the Ancidium’s bay.

  Most of what he saw were lines and variations of darkness, except where plasma fires continued burning and threw their unwavering light upon the walls and floors. The Gorgadar and the dodecahedral warship were vast and, from this height, Vance had a much better grasp of what an incredible threat these two vessels once presented.

  Warships were not the only presence in the bay. Now he was out of the shuttle, Vance felt the death sphere more keenly. It added an edge of lethargy to his body and mind, while visibly it remained infuriatingly in his periphery. Whenever he tried to focus on its darkness, it skittered away as if it was reluctant to be seen. For some reason, it angered Vance greatly.

  A shape – a sense of movement approaching rapidly - raced from out of nowhere, blocking his view of everything. The Vengeance halted with its midsection opposite the platform and a comms channel opened.

  “Wave, Lieutenant.”

  Vance raised one hand and gave a half wave, half salute. “I take it the known threats are eliminated, ma’am?” he said.

  “For the moment. You’re aware the Vengeance’s weapons can’t open that door, so let’s hope the obliterator core does what it’s supposed to.”