When the Stars Fade (The Gray Wars) (6 page)

             
George looked up, his eyes red
.“
No, you said the second-to-last shot was a mistake. You did
n’
t see the one after
.”
He hiccuped, choking back a sudden surge of bile
.“
Or the two after that
.
”

             
“Are you OK to fly
?
”             

             
He grinned
.“I’
m an ace, son. A hangover is just part of the job
.”
His stomach gurgled and George fought to hold down his meager breakfast
.“
Wha
t’
s on the board today
?
”

             
Cameron turned toward the massive briefing screen, looking for the flight list. Strangely, the board was empty. Not even the runs from the previous night. He was about to say as much to George when the panel suddenly flashed white.

             
They both grabbed their ears as the alert bell rang out. Red strobes came on, washing over the room. Shouting voices joined the cacophony as the entire hall leapt to attention. They glanced around, completely disoriented by the ready alarm. Then, one-by-one, they registered the meaning of the noise. Cameron nearly knocked over the table as he bolted toward a comm terminal and activated the line to OpCenter. George joined him quickly, massaging his temples as he walked up. H
e’
d brought his coffee over and sipped from the steaming mug.

             
“What the hell? W
e’
re off this weekend. I
t’
s supposed to be a holiday
.
”

             
“That was last weekend. I
t’
s Thursday
.”
Cameron raised an eyebrow
.“
What holiday happens on October 13
?
”

             
“Leave George the Hell Alone Day
.”
He yawned, limbs splayed out like a cat
.“
What do you think
?
”

             
Cameron shrugged
.“
Could be another passenger liner lost thrusters
.”
It was the most likely possibility. Ever since the recession hit, interstellar cruisers were going longer and longer between repairs and refits. The
y’
d handle a call like that once a week at least. SP advertised as the reserve component of Fleet, but it was more like being a space cop. 

             
The crowd around the station grew, and Cameron felt dozens of eyes on him as he waited for the operation center to connect. Someone finally silenced the alarm, but the the startled pilots still huddled and shivered like wet dogs.

             
When the monitor lit up, they found themselves staring at General Burnside, the elderly post commander. Cameron immediately went to attention, while George merely stepped out of the camer
a’
s view. After a moment, they both realized it was a recorded message.

             
“What in the Hell
?”
Cameron stammered
.“
This is new
.”
He looked over his shoulder at the remaining crowd, shrugging.

             
Though thought well beyond his expiration date, Burnside was a fearsome force on the Lunar post. A former infantry officer, the three-star general ruled the base with a firm hand. More than once, SP personnel found their passes revoked for minor infractions, and every rule and regulation had to be followed to the letter. It did
n’
t stop the civilians from acting like imbeciles, but anyone in uniform behaved as professionally as a West Point graduate. Coming from the outer rim post at Titan, George had nearly exploded the first week. Cameron found the transition somewhat smoother.

             
Burnside spoke, his voice tired and gravelly
.“
Attention. This is General Lawrence Burnside, commander of Federate Reserve Post Yonkers. Earth and her moon are facing an imminent threat. All pilots report to your hangars and you will receive full briefings. God speed
.”
The feed cut out.

             
Cameron looked at George, bewildered
.“
Imminent what
?
”

             
“So, not a jet without brakes then
.
”

             
Cameron took off out of the mess hall and down the corridor, with George struggling to keep up. The long stretch of connected pods stank of stale air and rust. SP had been relegated to the older section of post, in the units left over from some of the first attempts at a lunar colony. Cameron normally enjoyed the walk through ancient history, but there was
n’
t time now. They raced past the classrooms and repair hangars until they arrived at the shuttle to the hangars on the opposite end of the base. When the door opened, they boarded the automated craft and waited for it to launch.

             
“What the hell is this, Cam
?
”

             
The taller pilot looked out the window, admiring a series of sparkling dots clustered in the distance. It was impossible to make out shapes at this distance, but the patterns of their movement were mesmerizing
.“
I do
n’
t know. But
I’
ll bet this had to do with them
.”
He pointed and joined with George in staring in awe at the spectacle
.“
Are those rebels
?
”             

             
“Mars ships are always red
,”
George said without looking over
.“
I
t’
s like they have to color-coordinate with the dirt. Lonz used to say it was a branding thing. You remember Lonz
?”
He looked down as the shuttle bobbed and weaved past different hangars. They watched as a wing of Sparrow
s—
small fighters with thin, fixed wing
s—
launched from magnetic rails and raced to join the SP battle group growing in the sky
.“
I
t’
s all hands on deck. The
y’
re even deploying Junos Squadron
.
”

             
Cameron followed Georg
e’
s finger to where six Griffin bombers were lifting up from their pads. The long-necked craft were anything but maneuverable, but could single-handedly turn the tide of a battle, if protected until they could fire off their ordnance. Their wings were in the VTOL position, bent midway so the rockets could fire straight down; they were much too heavy for MagRails. Even in the lower gravity it took a minute for the immense craft to push off the dirt. Clouds of moon dust billowed and swirled around, coating every surface.

             
“Approaching Hangar W, standby for landing
.”
The automated voice was followed by a chime, and Cameron and George braced for the usual rough stop. Another relic, the shuttle was older than either of its occupants. It hit the landing surface with a screech, lurching to a sudden halt. The doors hissed as they pressurized to the airlock before opening.

             
Jogging into the hangar, the pilots saw a frenzy of activity as crews on the ground raced to launch their fighters. Wolfpack was comprised solely of FS 115 Phoenix II superiority fighters, a single winged craft that dominated the sk
y—
at least until the Phoenix III had launched fifteen years back and rendere
d“
the Deuc
e”
obsolete. Now the craft was a hand-me-down from big brother Fleet. The cool gray metal glistened in the harsh lighting, and the fighters on the rails shimmered as they grew near the purple barrier that separated the building from the elements outside. Cameron and George quickly spotted Captain Newman, the SP commander for Yorktown Air. Standing a head taller than anyone around him, Newman barked orders into radios and urged crews to work faster. An aide stood nearby, shouting into a phone. Even with the roaring engines of launching fighters, it was the loudest corner of the room.

             
“Captain
,”
the aide said
.“
Normandy has two squadrons aboard, but
Stalingrad
went up without an escort. They were shadowing while the new commander got his sea legs. They have plenty of anti-air, but the
y’
re not adding much to the fight
.
”

             
“Where does Gilroy want us
?
”

             
The aide searched around a nearby table until he managed to find his dusty tablet. He tapped the screen, bringing up a holographic map of lunar space
.“
Sector is in a scouting position here and here, near the Alpha contacts.
I’
m still being told to wait for our flight order
.
”

             
Newman nodded, taking the information cooly. Fleet problems were now his problems, and his peaceful drill weekend was looking long gone. Newman noticed George and Cameron standing a few paces away and waved them over. He returned their confused salutes and put them at ease. Rubbing at his bloodshot eyes, Newman silently prayed for a cup of coffee. Like everyone else, h
e’
d been asleep an hour before.

             
“Lieutenant, you two are the last in the hole. Wolfpack is at half strength today, so yo
u’
re taking over the Squadron as Wolf One
.
”

             
Cameron coughed
.“
Sir? What happened to Lieutenant Rico
?
”

             
“Down with a bad bug. And another six are in the drunk tank with the MPs. I ca
n’
t fly them, even with this shit storm. Yo
u’
ll do
.
”

             
“Roger, sir
.
”

             
George looked around, taking in the reality of the situation. On the table were screens showing the two unknown formations. The images were close to show the strange designs of the ships in clear detail
.“
Captain, have they said what w
e’
re up against
?
”

             
The field officer shook his head
.“
I
t’
s not Mars, or at least tha
t’
s what the
y’
re saying. Could be that splinter group out of Colorum. Be prepared for a fight. People do
n’
t show up unannounced just to shoot the breeze. Once yo
u’
re out there, rendezvous with the rest of SP and stand by
.
”

             
Cameron took in the information, his mind flipping through scenarios. Even with the colonists of the red planet pacified, the Federate had no shortage of enemies in the outer sectors
.“
Those do
n’
t look like converted mining vessels, sir. Have they been converting old derelicts or something
?
”

             
Newman sighed, clenching his jaw and counting to ten
.“
Lieutenant, I know about as much as you right now. What I do know is that these ships are in violation of the Vienna Pact and Sector is part of the mission. So shut up, get in your ship and get up there
.
”

             
George interrupted, placing his palm on Camero
n’
s chest
.“
Wha
t’
s the rally point
?
”

             
“
Savanna
,”
Newman said.

             
George immediately took off, running over to his fighter. The hangar crew already had the ladder out for him, and they handed his flight bag up after he sat down in the cockpit. Cameron realized he had
n’
t moved yet and followed suit, finding his ship and climbing inside. The newer Phoenix had cushioned interiors and poly-crystallic screens with a refined holographic overlay. Ca
m’
s fighter was pieced together from eight different versions of the Deuce, and looked it. One computer flickered green while another beamed images in sickening orange. It had taken him months to be able to process the kaleidoscope.