Death Skies (Fire and Rust Book 4) Read online

  Death Skies

  Fire and Rust Book 4

  Anthony James

  Contents

  Planet Centrium

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Rundine

  © 2019 Anthony James

  All rights reserved

  The right of Anthony James to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher's prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed upon the subsequent purchaser

  Illustration © Tom Edwards

  TomEdwardsDesign.com

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  Planet Centrium

  Centrium was a dust world. An undersized rock, a little too close to its sun and with sixty percent of its surface covered in parched desert. The other forty percent contained a single ocean bounded by land which was just about habitable with the assistance of technology.

  The Unity League’s primary interest in Centrium had once been the rust ore, discovered by accident way out in the hottest part of an already hot planet. The mines were no longer operational after the Fangrin detonated nuclear warheads in each of the main shafts, fusing the ore into something different and reducing the rust output to zero.

  Without the mines, people began drifting away to new planets within the Unity League. Still, the population didn’t decline much from its peak of half a billion. Many called Centrium their home and they stayed in the sweltering heat of an unwanted world.

  On this day, the Raggers showed up - a fleet of 150, hidden from the ground batteries by their stealth tech until the last minute. The aliens didn’t make demands and they didn’t make contact. Instead, they broke into smaller groups over the populated areas of the planet. A few of the ground-air batteries locked and fired, while the sixty defending ULAF spaceships hunted fruitlessly. Meanwhile, the two military bases sent FTL comms requesting backup.

  It was too late.

  Wherever the Raggers discovered towns, cities or even villages, they dropped their bombs. A combination of incendiaries and nuclear missiles laid waste to everything. The aliens didn’t stop until that forty percent was turned into a burned, irradiated testament to the cruelties of war.

  A few million survived, many of them injured or suffering the effects of radiation sickness. It was a lesson, even more so than Satra, that the Unity League didn’t ask for and didn’t want. A change in attitude came immediately – a determination to meet the Raggers head-on and do whatever it took to defeat them.

  Whatever it took.

  Chapter One

  The Fangrin space station was an impressive piece of engineering, comprising a circular outer ring linked by many spokes to a cylindrical hub. It orbited an ice giant, six planets out from a dying sun, and only a short lightspeed journey from two of the Fangrin’s populated worlds. The aliens had given the station a name that didn’t translate directly into a recognizable human word and which couldn’t be pronounced without painfully contorting the throat in order to produce a series of incomprehensible growling sounds.

  Fleet Admiral Randell Douglas Stone’s shuttle hadn’t long ago docked and he was still coming to terms with the knowledge that the Fangrin had constructed something which made the Unity space station look like the rudimental work of amateurs. It was one thing to hear about the endless depths of resources at the Fangrin’s disposal, it was another thing entirely to emerge from lightspeed and witness the technological marvel which was your former enemy’s primary deep space facility.

  He strode through the well-lit interior, with his team of staff officers hurrying after. They carried tablet computers and talked amongst themselves in hushed tones, as if whispering would be sufficient to stop the Fangrin overhearing their words. Stone didn’t think the aliens were listening in. If he didn’t trust them, he wouldn’t have agreed come here. At some point, allies had to rely on each other and Stone was past the point of watching over his shoulder every time he heard the growling speech of a Fangrin close by.

  “The meeting will start in fifteen minutes, Admiral,” said Governor Wrekstin, walking alongside. The Fangrin was old without being stooped and his thickset frame reminded Stone how physically powerful the aliens were compared to the vast majority of humans. Grey hair covered Wrekstin’s muzzle and his words, translated by the language module pinned to the shoulder of his dusky-grey clothing, sounded even gruffer than Stone had come to expect.

  “I hear you have finished your review of the data we recovered from the facility on Reol, Governor,” said Stone.

  The Fangrin smiled, baring sharp teeth that were brilliant white in color. It was a look of menace, though not one aimed at the human delegation. “Yes, our review is complete. We have a number of proposals which you will be interested to hear.”

  “We have proposals of our own.” Stone also smiled. “I am sure we can decide upon a plan which the Raggers will find especially unpleasant.”

  “We have longed for this moment, Admiral,” said Wrekstin. “So many of my people lost. I do not mean this as a challenge, but you humans have not seen the worst of what the Raggers will bring. You have lost one planet, where we have lost many. War is war and death is a reality, but the Raggers do not accept boundaries and there will be no rapprochement.”

  “We are committed to this alliance for mutual benefit. Centrium will be avenged and when the Raggers are defeated, our two races must iron out a lasting peace.”

  Wrekstin turned his head and Stone looked into the Fangrin’s yellow eyes. The alien nodded his head once. “We remember our friends.”

  After that, Wrekstin said little, content to wait for the coming meeting before discussing strategy and tactics. Stone wasn’t familiar with the layout of the space station and he allowed the Fangrin to guide him.

  Scans from the carrier ULS Indomitable which brought Stone here, had given the alien structure a peak diameter of three thousand meters and a height of more than two thousand. The shuttle had docked in the outer ring and Stone knew the meeting was taking place in the central section. Therefore, he expected the walk to last for several minutes.

  “This spoke leads to the main command and control areas of [Translation Unclear],” said Wrekstin. “Our meeting will take place six levels higher.”

  The main passage along the connecting spoke was wide enough for several to walk side-by-side. Stone glanced into side rooms and saw the kind of activity he’d expect to see on a military facility on Earth. The Fangrin had jammed in
their tech everywhere, and each console, computer or interface panel was attended by one or more of the aliens. They appeared unhurried and in control. Once or twice, an alien would pause to study the humans, but Stone saw only curiosity in their stares rather than hostility. It was reassuring.

  Ten minutes later, Wrekstin stopped at unmarked double doors. The Fangrin activated a blue-glowing panel in the wall adjacent and, a moment later, the doors opened to reveal a lift car. Stone entered and waited for the sensation of movement. That sensation didn’t come, though an interior status panel indicated the lift was going up. It was another minor example of the aliens’ technological superiority and Stone did his best to pretend it wasn’t important.

  Outside the lift, Wrekstin led Stone and his team across a circular open space filled with consoles. The Fangrin personnel were dressed in a variety of different colors and a few wore silver insignias on their chests or shoulders. Stone tried to guess at the function of the room and concluded it housed planning or intelligence officers.

  Armed guards flanked each of the numerous doors and these wore full combat suits, including helmets. They carried assault rifles – of a type which were inferior to the Unity League’s Gilners – and sidearms were holstered at their waists. Stone hadn’t been directly involved in a surface engagement for many years and the sight of the hulking Fangrin soldiers in their combat gear brought the memories back.

  “Here,” said Wrekstin, a short distance beyond the planning room. The Fangrin pressed thick, black-furred fingertips against the panel and waited for the security scan to complete.

  The door opened and Governor Wrekstin entered without saying anything. Stone followed and the rest of his team did likewise.

  Stone’s first impressions of the meeting room were favorable. The alloy walls were lined with a multitude of screens, which showed lists of strategic resources or star charts. Others displayed sensor feeds from the space station itself or from places which Stone wasn’t familiar with.

  The center of the room was dominated by what appeared to be a huge metal table, but was in fact a horizontal screen, around which planning could take place. Two much smaller tables held refreshments including water, juices and plates of items which Stone was sure were edible, even if he didn’t know what the hell they were.

  Senior officers from the Fangrin high command waited in the room and they studied the new arrivals. Governor Wrekstin made introductions. The Fangrin didn’t go for handshakes and were content to nod in acknowledgement when their names were spoken. Several high-ranking members of the aliens’ ruling council were present, including Governors Nivenar and Stonlax, as well as Admiral Daxian Lontor.

  Stone tried hard to keep civilian and military matters separate in the Unity League – the recent trip to Reol being a notable failure in his policy – and he was glad that he didn’t have to contend with members of the League Council while he hammered out strategy with the Fangrin. The aliens did things differently, Stone knew, though their governors were all required to have ten years’ military experience before they could take on the position.

  The Fangrin weren’t fond of small talk and they got started immediately. Stone joined them at the central viewing table and an image formed, showing thousands of different stars, each labeled and with overlays to indicate names, distances and other pertinent details. While Stone talked, his team listened and made notes.

  “If the Raggers knew what your soldiers extracted from the comms center on Reol, they would [Translation Unclear] themselves,” said Admiral Lontor. He was the broadest and strongest-looking Fangrin Stone had ever seen, with muscles that strained against his uniform. In one hand, he clutched a six-foot metal pole about half an inch in diameter.

  “We have identified several primary targets,” said Stone. “Although we have not yet scouted them in case it jeopardizes our chance of enacting a successful attack.”

  “Our target selection differed from yours in several places,” said Lontor. “The data was not complete, leading us to make suppositions about the nature of the Ragger assets.”

  The Fangrin tapped the end of the pole on one area of the table display. Instantly, the chart zoomed in to the area selected and Stone identified three solar systems which his own intel teams had been very interested in. Two planets were highlighted in red and another in orange.

  “We believe these worlds are home to the manufacturing facilities for the Ragger fleet,” continued Lontor. “The stolen data suggests that raw materials are brought in from elsewhere and made into components for spaceships.”

  “This tallies with our understanding,” said Stone. “The Raggers claim lots of territory as their own, but these places enable them to build new space fleets quicker than we can hope to shoot them down.”

  “Placing every chicken into one container. Isn’t that what you humans call it?” said Lontor. The language modules weren’t perfect when it came to dealing with idioms. “The Raggers have made themselves vulnerable by concentrating so much in these few places, however deep they might hide them within their territory.”

  “If we destroy the facilities on these factory planets, we will significantly limit the enemy’s ability to challenge us,” said Governor Stonlax, another Fangrin who was elderly in appearance.

  Lontor used his stick again to select another area of the star chart. Numerous planets were colored in blue and Stone knew exactly what these represented. – places the Raggers were thought to inhabit.

  “We will give the Raggers no leeway,” said Lontor. “We will destroy their manufacturing capabilities and, if necessary, will show no mercy to their population centers.”

  This was the part which Stone was still uncomfortable with. Centrium was gone, but the notion of killing billions – perhaps hundreds of billions – of Raggers was still difficult to accept. He couldn’t permit the aliens to rob him of his humanity. The moment he found this easy would be the moment his enemy had won.

  None of this meant that Stone would back down from the decision should it ever arise. He didn’t want to be in a position where he’d have to make the call, even though he couldn’t imagine a future where it wasn’t forced upon him.

  The talking continued for long hours. After a while, the Fangrin called a break and Stone helped himself to a mug of peculiarly-flavored juice, along with several items from one of the plates. The resumption of the meeting brought agreement on numerous matters, whilst others would likely have to wait until the following day. Stone wasn’t due to leave until everything was finalized.

  With the meeting drawing to a close, the alarms went off. The lighting changed from blue-white to red and a siren made a high-pitched sound right on the edge of hearing. It was the kind of unwelcome, jarring intrusion that would have made less experienced officers run for the exits.

  “What is happening?” asked Stone calmly.

  None of the Fangrin answered him straight away. Admiral Lontor spoke loud and fast into a wall-mounted comms station, while Governor Nivenar strode outside to converse directly with the space station’s personnel. Stonlax and Wrekstin got busy on the wall screens, checking status reports and requesting updates from elsewhere.

  “This is what is happening,” said Lontor. He pointed at a display, which showed a sensor feed from one of the spaceships stationed in the vicinity. The feed showed burning pieces of wreckage scattering in every direction and Stone caught a fleeting glimpse of a grey shape travelling impossibly fast.

  “Get me Admiral Dolan,” Stone snapped at his officers. “Quickly!” With that said, he turned once more to Lontor. “Raggers. How did they find this place?”

  “That is not a question for now.” Lontor tapped another screen and selected an option from a menu. A sensor feed from a different source appeared. “The enemy have arrived in force. We will activate the external shield, though it will do us little good.”

  Stone was aware that the space station was equipped with an energy shield, similar to the ones the Fangrin used to protect their mines.
The Unity League had developed a special type of bomb to deal with these shields and it appeared as if the Raggers had their own methods.

  “How many spaceships do you have here, Admiral Lontor?”

  “Thirty.”

  “The Indomitable has an escort of ten and a hold full of Vipers.”

  “It will not be enough.”

  The Fangrin seemed sure even though the engagement had only begun. Stone didn’t ask him to clarify and approached his own team. Most of them had seen action, but they looked dazed at this turnaround.

  “Who is in contact with the Indomitable?”

  Lieutenant Kristen Mathis’s communicator was pressed to the side of her face and she spoke low, rapid words to the officer on the other end.

  “Admiral Dolan has ordered a full deployment of Vipers, sir. The Raggers are using their stealth tech, so our carrier group is having a hard time counting numbers or locking on to any of the bastards.”

  “Maybe we should evacuate, sir,” said Lieutenant Curtis Young.

  Lontor was discussing the matter with Governor Wrekstin in angry, rumbling tones and he looked up at the words.

  “It is too late to evacuate,” he said.

  “How are you so sure?”

  “We estimate the Raggers are here with more than one hundred of their warships.”

  “How long until reinforcements arrive?”