When the Stars Fade (The Gray Wars) (20 page)

             
Cameron walked over to his fighter. SP had been rolled up into Fleet, and all of Luna had been thrown aboard the aging
Berlin
in order to save the active units the hassle of flying all the way out to Tallus. At least the
y’
d had the decency to have Fleet engineers take a look at the long mistreated Sector Patrol craft, giving them much needed maintenance. Camero
n’
s Phoenix had never looked so clean, and no fluids formed puddles underneath the wings. Even the seat had been reupholstered. Two silver stripes had been painted down the wings, marking him the wing leader. It did
n’
t come with a promotion, but the solo bunk was perk enough.

             
“Try not to break her now
,”
a voice said from behind. Cameron turned to see Chief Wallace, the maintenance team leader. Stolen from New Ede
n’
s reserves, Wallace added years of experience to the skeleton crew on
Berlin
. Long past his required service, the Chief knew the ins and outs of every Naval vessel since the moth-infested Crows. He walked over to the young pilot, looking every bit like his nickname
,“
Bear Wallace
.”
His bushy brown beard was strictly against Fleet regulations, but New Eden had a much more relaxed stance on such things, and talent of his level was often allowed indulgences. Chief was short and square, with thick hairy arms and a ceaseless smile.

             
“Not when she looks this good
,”
Cameron said.

             
“The ailerons needed a lot of love, but you should have an easier time keeping her level
.
”

             
“Cam ca
n’
t fly level, Chief
.”
George punched his friend on the arm as he walked up
.“
No amount of work on his fighter will change that
.
”

             
Wallace looked the junior officer over
.“
Are
n’
t you the one who tried to thread the needle at Okami Outpost a few months back
?”
George turned beet red
.“
I knew it. The
y’
re still pulling pieces of your ship outta that rock, you know? Said the
y’
ve never seen anyone misjudge a flight path like that
.
”

             
George glowered, but was clearly putting up a front. He enjoyed his celebrity status, despite how h
e’
d earned it
.“
Some people just do
n’
t know how to build watch towers. Ther
e’
s a regulation distance for a reason
.
”

             
“And that distance is still a full half-meter short of a Sparro
w’
s wingspan
,”
Cameron said.

             
“
I’
m noticing a lot of negativity coming from your side of the room, Cam.
I’
m going to chalk it up to nerves, seeing as how blue you seem to be getting
.
”

             
Wallace laughed
.“
Ai
n’
t nothing to be scared about out here, sirs. Blue Space is just like other space
.‘
Cept you ca
n’
t leave the ship. Anything smaller than a Valkyrie tends to disappear out there
.
”

             
Cameron paled as he stared out into the void
.“I’
m fine where I am, thanks
.”
He shuddered
.“
Looks so cold
.
”

             
Chief Wallace chuckled
.“
Actually, all probes report i
t’
s warmer out there than regular space. Not exactly tropical, but you could get by with a light jacket
.”
He slapped Camero
n’
s back
.“
Now,
I’
m sure you troublemakers did
n’
t come down here just to chat with me
.
”

             
“W
e’
re here for our watch, Chief
,”
George said
.“
Where are the rest of the pilots waiting
?
”

             
Wallace pointed toward the rec room on the far side of the hangar. Pilots and crewmen sat on couches and talked, while others dozed off. During a jump, the quick reaction force was more of a drill than a practical chore. No fighter had ever survived in the vortex, even trailing the wake of a supercarrier. Most pilots took the time to fix their ships, catch up on reading, or catch up on sleep. More often it was a healthy dose of the latter.

             
George walked with Cameron to the waiting area and they plopped down on a stained blue sofa. The television in the corner played reruns of some game show from the Unified Orient. On the screen, a contestant failed to negotiate part of an elaborate obstacle course, ending up waste deep in noxious-looking sludge. A few of the pilots laughed, but most used the show as background noise to conversations.

             
Hours passed in the dimly lit room, and Cameron dozed without realizing. When George finally shook him awake, the last tone of the bells sounded over the loudspeaker.

             
They had arrived in the Valley.

*              *              *              *              *

              Tallus was under siege, though no one on the ground would know it. Floating high above the only civilized landmass, watching with cruel intent, the Boxti frigate beamed FTL coordinates from a spiky transmitter on its dorsal tower. Almost immediately it received a coded response.

             
Dozens of small probes shot from the warship, setting up a node for the incoming war party. The beacons broadcasted a navigation lock, coded to the alie
n’
s frequency. On the surface, radio and television programs broke into static, overpowered by the intense transmission.

             
Khuum...khuum...khuum

             
Within minutes, blue motes of light began to appear in the sky over the Terran planet. The nearest Boxti group was hours away, but the frigate would use the time wisely, gathering intel. Already, the creatures aboard the vessel had plotted the various population centers of New Freeman and begun preparing firing solutions for all of them. Covering an area the size of Australia, the metropolis made a difficult target, but a coordinated assault was more than a possibility.

             
With incredible patience, and inhuman banality, the Boxti planned the destruction of the planet.

*              *              *              *              *

             
Berlin
entered evasive maneuvers only seconds from exiting Blue Space. Followed by three destroyers and a half dozen frigates, the strike group entered a battlefield littered with the dead.
Gettysburg
floated in pieces, none bigger than the smoldering hangar wing from the flagship. The two destroyer escorts were nowhere to be seen, having been blown out of existence hours before.

             
The Terran vessels navigated the sea of debris, hulls resounding with every impact. Inside
Berlin
, crewmembers clung to bulkheads as each strike reverberated throughout the carrier. A smaller fuel frigate, TFF
Atlantic
, struck a floating munitions room and blew off its starboard reserve tank. The explosion caused a fury of action until the commander of the fueler reported all clear.

             
Captain Newman, standing on the bridge of
Berlin
, watched the scene with horror. What could do this much destruction? He turned to Captain Shandras,
Berli
n
’
s commanding officer. At his place near the center of the room, Shandras wiped a tear from his eye, whispering a prayer for his dead brothers in uniform. A full head shorter than Newman, Shandras was revered as a man of faith by his loyal crew.

             
“Flight, report
,”
Shandras said in his usual soft voice. His eyes never moved from the screens in the front of the room.

             
Lieutenant JG Vega worked the helm, guiding the wide ship through the field
.“
W
e’
re clear of the larger fragments, sir.
I’
ve got us on a path to double back around for a better view
.
”

             
“Engineering
?
”

             
“Hull is ninety-nine percent and holding. We did
n’
t take too much, sir
.”
Lieutenant Gordon leaned back in his seat at the engineering position, rubbing his face with his hands
.“
Shields moved to full front until we clear the debris
.
”

             
“Good work
,”
Shandras said
.“
Yo
u’
ve all done good work here. Le
t’
s set up position in Q17, let our search-and-rescue craft have a chance at combing through the derelicts
.
”

             
“Aye, sir
.”
The response came from all stations.

             
Newman quickly moved to the commander, speaking low
.“I’
ll have Wolfpack in the air to provide escort, Captain
.”
It was strange to bear the same title but sit significantly lower on the rank ladder. By Sector Patro
l’
s standards he was an O-3, while the shi
p’
s commander was an O-7. H
e’
d always had trouble figuring out naval rank, preferring the Army structure.

             
Shandras nodded to his subordinate
.“
Good. Have them running the same frequency as the Valkyries
.
”

             
Newman picked up the handset by the communication officer and connected to the Quick Reaction Force
.“
This is Captain Newman. Wolfpack is clear to launch. Flight line Hotel, channel 2-5-2
.”
After his order was confirmed, he hung up the line. He turned his attention to the monitor and watched as fighters launched from the hangar out toward the battlefield. Fat-stomached Valkyries, the all-purpose military transport, rocketed out on four engines. Their bubble-domed cockpits reflected light from the distant stars.

             
The rescue ships charged headlong into the wreckage, scanning for any signs of life. Every now and then a Valkyrie would launch a tow cable and pull a piece of metal away from a portion of the carrier, but no living crew were found. The fighter escort weaved in and out of the debris as they patrolled the ominous landscape. Nimble Sparrows dropped sensor pods into the smoldering husks of
Cambridge
and
Cape Cod
. The latter barely existed anymore, save a steadily disintegrating section of hull.

             
In his fighter, circling the remains of one of the fallen destroyers, Cameron could
n’
t believe his eyes. From all reports, this attack had come at the hands of five Boxti craft and a frigate. The amount of firepower needed for this level of carnage could
n’
t have come from so small a group. It just did
n’
t add up. He could remember all too easily the fighting from only a few weeks before. What had been so different here?

             
“Wolfpack, this is
Berlin
.
”

             
Cameron pulled his thoughts back to the moment
.“
Go for Wolfpack
.”
It did
n’
t feel right to still use the call sign. Only four of the original squadron remained since the draft, with the rest still in recovery back in Sol.