“Authority?” retorted Ryann, taken aback. “Dad, I’m on your side. But you’re not thinking clearly. You need to listen to other people. We’re so close to that asteroid field — if we adjust our course by only a few degrees, it takes us right alongside it —”
“I said no, Ryann. If we deviate from our course we’ll alert their suspicions,” said Grayell firmly.
“But, you can’t know that for sure.”
“I do know it!” he spat, a look of mania in his eyes. “I’m the only one who can know it! I’ve seen the Lumina, from inside their world — I travelled with them, I touched their minds — I know their intentions! No-one else knows it, not you, not anybody! Only me!”
Ryann looked on in shock as the change came over his father; he could see the haunt written in his eyes.
Ryann went to speak, but a gruff voice behind them made him jump:
“Grayell, what the hell’s all this about a conference of senior officers? I’ve got my pilots working flat out to repair and restock their ships and you’re pulling half my men off the docks!”
Ryann turned to see a tall and imposing figure standing uncomfortably close. He was dressed in a faded flight-suit with a leather jacket over the top and wore a pair of battered combat boots. His face was ruddy and unshaven, his skin covered in a thin film of sweat. He had a confident grin, accentuated by a toothpick held perpetually in one corner of his mouth.
“Carl,” muttered Grayell with a smile, all trace of his earlier mood gone. “Carl, you know my son Ryann don’t you? Ryann, this is Carl Ransome, Duty Officer on B-Deck — keeps our boys flying.”
The man gave Ryann a brief derisory glance then turned straight back to Grayell, continuing, “I’ve had word that we’ve jumped into trouble — that we’re not clear of the Lumina yet. Is it true?”
“Well, you shouldn’t listen to rumours Carl,” replied Grayell with a weary smile, turning to go. “That’s why I called a conference, so you can all hear what’s really going on. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
As he went to leave, Ransome placed his arm against the wall in front of him barring his way.
“I heard the entire Luminal fleet is bearing down on us! If I need to get my fighters out to battle, then there isn’t time for sitting around in a damn meeting!”
“Carl, trust me, we’re not in any immediate danger. I’ll explain everything in the conference hall.”
“Trust you?” muttered Ransome angrily. “We trusted you this far and where has it gotten us? We’ve been hiding away for months while the war is being lost all around us, and then at the first sign of trouble we run away!”
“I’ll see you in the conference hall in fifteen minutes Carl.” Grayell’s voice was firm and he pushed past the big man.
“I always had my doubts about you Grayell,” called Ransome after him. “I don’t think you have the stomach for a real fight!”
But Grayell continued down the corridor without looking back.
As Ryann went to follow, Ransome turned on him, momentarily blocking his way.
“What about you boy?” asked Ransome with a leer, leaning over Ryann. “You got the stomach for it? Or are you scared too?”
Ryann felt a rage welling up inside and he stared fiercely into the big man’s eyes.
“Well?” hissed Ransome leaning closer. With a sudden movement, he jerked his head forward an inch making Ryann jump. The man grinned with a malign satisfaction. Ryann’s fists were balled at his side, and he felt his body tense as the adrenaline coursed through his system.
“Ryann! I need you with me.”
Grayell’s voice cut through the tension, and Ryann glanced down the corridor to see his father staring back at them. In an instant the moment had passed. Ryann pushed past Ransome, who continued to study him with that infuriating look of smug confidence.
“There’s something I need you to see,” continued Grayell, giving Ransome one last glance as he hit the call button to a nearby elevator. After a moment, the doors slid open and he stepped inside.
Ryann peered back down the corridor, but Ransome had already turned and was heading off towards the bridge. He heard the elevator doors begin to slide closed, and at the last minute Grayell reach forward, holding them open. He stared angrily at the floor, but after a moment he sighed, glancing up to his son.
“Well, are you coming?” he muttered irritably.
Ryann paused, struggling with the swirl of emotions that Ransome’s outburst had provoked. And then, still unable to meet Grayell’s gaze, he followed his father in through the doors.
They travelled upwards in a tense silence, neither of them willing to be the first to speak.
After an interminable wait, the elevator doors slid open with a quiet hiss.
Grayell led Ryann out into a cramped airlock and he watched with interest as his father opened the outer doors.
He followed him out on to a circular observation platform, gazing about in shock at the unfolding scene.
The platform was high up on one of the towers, rising out over the walls of the control station hub. They were at the very heart of the cavernous open space within the Defiance’s hull, an area well over a kilometre in diameter.
Everywhere Ryann looked, there was some form of spacecraft.
From the bloated shape of a sub-system freighter here, to a huge hospital ship there, to pleasure cruisers, tugboats — right down to the smallest shuttles and hover-taxis.
And filling the space between them was a drifting sprawl of metal and detritus — cargo canisters, hull-plates, gantries — and all manner of wreckage from the Luminal attack on New Eden.
“My god, how many survivors did you manage to get on board?” breathed Ryann, gazing up at the great shape of a Carthenian freighter, drifting only twenty metres or so above him. Smoke
