Year 248 P.L. Rychter Calendar
Coordinates: 15.4°N; 29.8°E
Site Designation: Rubicon (City of)
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He'd been down in the Nautilus's sensor archive for two whole days before the call came for him. Karrin Thaniakas emerged into his temporary office, looking thoroughly sheepish, her hands fidgeting awkwardly in front of her.
Lanto let out a slight groan as he straightened in his seat, swivelling to face her. He blinked, scrubbed at his stubbled chin and picked up the ceramic mug of lukewarm coffee idling on his desk. It wasn't the same brew he had at home; lacked the real kick of the good stuff, but caffeine was caffeine.
"Archivist," he said, raising the mug to her. "What can I do for you?"
"Sorry to disturb you, sir," she said. Her eyes flickered to the bank of glittering screens and the heaps of hand scrawled notes on his desk. "How's it coming?"
"Slowly." Lanto made a vague gesture to the piles. "So far I've found no reference in the Nautilus logs concerning anything inexplicable, or any evidence of the Crawler presence before touchdown. You?"
"The same, I'm afraid."
"Then what brings you knocking on my door?"
"We've had an urgent communique bounced to us."
"From the Commissariat?"
She shook her head. "No, sir. Signal routed from Brekka."
Lanto's brow rose as the implications sank in. "How long ago?"
"Came through on a secure channel five minutes ago."
"Send it to me down here. Now."
Karrin dipped her head. "Yes, sir." Then she disappeared back out of the hatch. Lanto let out a huffing breath of frustration, his concentration already slipping back to the vast sludge of the sensor archives. He'd trawled through dozens of painstaking crew entries, geological surveys from orbit and long distance, ancient planetary maps, and even some of the antique crew logs in old Earth diction, but so far nothing.
His eyes hurt, and so did his joints, and he knew they were only scratching the surface of the information in the old ship's bones.
He looked up as the holoscreen to the right of his temporary desk sprang into life. A flat projection faced him, and on it Aurelia's face appeared, her face grim even through the distorted image. She saluted.
"Sir."
"What can I do for you, Lieutenant?" Lanto asked, his unease growing with every passing second. "We've only just begun our investigations here."
"I know, sir," she replied, the cobalt lattice of her image shimmering. "I'm sorry to interrupt you so early, but this couldn't wait. Official word hasn't reached Rubicon yet, but it will soon, as soon as the Commissariat here figures out exactly what they want to say."
He felt the bones in his fingers ache ominously. "What happened?"
"The Brekkans sent a delegation to their Liaison outpost to meet with the Scraegans after the incident at Coaler's Basin."
"And?"
"Whatever the plan was, I'm afraid to say it backfired."
"Ah." Lanto massaged his chin, knowing that could only mean one thing. "What happened?"
YOU ARE READING
Hellsky (Hunter-Killer #3)
Science FictionAfter decades of all out war between human and Scraegan, the planet Rychter has finally settled into an uneasy peace. Both sides can rebuild, lick their wounds, and for the first time try to coexist. But the war isn't over for everyone. Without the...
