Cold Fusion - Lance Parkin [111]
Admiral Dattani stood at the centre of the Ark Royal’s flight deck. His white hair was thin, now, but this only emphasized his high forehead and aquiline nose. The holoscreen in front of him was filled with the white disk of the planet, which was rotating at a leisurely sixteen miles a second.
‘The entire fleet has arrived, Admiral,’ Bil reported.
‘They confirm battle-readiness.’ The weapons officer at the station directly behind him was from Procyon, one of the few of his race to serve in the fleet. He was blue-skinned, with heavy ridges on his cheekbones and fronds instead of ears. Many would have considered, that Bil looked out of place in a Space fleet uniform, but in that respect Dattani was a progressive: he wouldn’t deny a talented individual a place on the Ark Royal just because he was differently human. ‘The fleet has arrived safely, sir. All ships are now at their allotted position. They are awaiting further instructions.’
‘Admiral, the Skybase is signalling us.’ the communications officer said.
A young man in a Scientifica tunic appeared in one corner of the screen. As Dattani identified himself, the computer picked out the Skybase on the main image. It appeared as a tiny white dot over the northern hemisphere.
The scientist quickly explained about the abnormal cloud cover which was blocking all attempts to probe it. The technical details were transmitted to the Ark Royal’s science station.
‘Where’s the Provost-General?’
‘ He was onboard the Battle Platform when it made its orbital drop. It was aiming for the Nightingale Facility, a hospital in the northern frostlands. It was chasing a stolen Type Twelve freighter. That was a little under two hours ago. ’
Just after he had signalled for the fleet. There weren’t any Type Twelves assigned to this system, it could only be the ship that had brought Medford his fusion bombs.
‘Understood,’ the Admiral concluded.
‘That was about the time the storms started.’
‘Has there been any contact with the enemy?’ Bil asked, seeing that his commanding officer was deep in thought.
‘ Only the pictures from Pryanishnikov waystation. ’ The screen flickered, and the image of a darkened room appeared. There were half a dozen figures in the centre, surrounded by glowing white lines. They were chanting and swaying. It looked like a ritual from a primitive religion. ‘ There were no reports of military activity anywhere.
This is the only permanent record of them that we have. ’
Dattani leant forward. ‘Focus our sensors on that area of the planets surface.’ He searched the image for clues.
Dominic, the communications officer, was hunched over his instruments, straining to hear something.
‘What is it, Lieutenant?’
‘A transmission from the Waystation on an Adjudicator emergency channel.’
‘Put it on the screen.’
A pretty young woman with long jet-black hair in Adjudicator battlearmour appeared, filling the screen. ‘ This is Solim, Twelfth Tank Division. Thank the Goddess, I thought I was the only one left alive down here. I’m at the Pryanishnikov Waystation, which has been occupied by enemy forces. ’ She was in her mid-twenties, the expression on her face reminded Dattani a little of Celestine, his late wife. The Admiral stepped forward, although he needn’t have done for the microphones to pick up his voice. ‘I am Admiral Dattani of the Ark Royal. Report.’
‘ I’ve rigged up a drone here with a camera. Are you ready SAM? ’
‘ ReADY, MA’am. ’
The picture snapped to an image of the main hall. The six figures were still there, still moving. They seemed oblivious to Solim and her drone. The cabling, or power lines or whatever they were around them were larger, more intricate than before and hummed with energy.
‘ They seem to be drawing power from somewhere. The pulsing of this web stuff coincides with the rhythm of their chanting.
More than that, the power they collect is being transmitted elsewhere. I think this must be the enemy nerve centre. ’
‘I think you must be right,’ Dattani