Blink: Interdiction (Book 4)

23

That day a meteor shower rained through Ravine's skies north of Karpa Luna. Thin tendrils of fire snarled their way across the bruised atmosphere like great flaming birds before fizzling to nothingness. The whole thing lasted perhaps five minutes. To many it was just a natural phenomenon, a small cluster of rocks striking the planet and burning up into dust. Some wished on those lights. Others took them as a bad omen of even darker times to come.

To those on the Karpa Luna military base those lights told an altogether more chilling story.

In low orbit above Ravine, the light cruiser Roshven had been carrying out a routine pass of the planet, bombarding the surface with a rolling series of sensor sweeps, hunting for any trace of rebel activity in their assigned sector. It was a task performed a dozen times a day by an ever-changing rota of ships in the occupying flotilla. Mundane. Supporting.

Safe.

But at 0646 Ravine time, the Roshven and everyone aboard her had been blasted out of existence.

A crisis meeting in Merlynn's headquarters hadn't been long in coming. Darien headed Blink squad leaders as they marched through the station's hallways, summoned with the speed of urgency. He had no idea what had happened to the stricken ship, but the base buzzed with wild rumours and speculation. It was all Merlynn's officers could do to keep the stories contained on the base.

The closer they got to the main briefing room the more people seemed to be flooding in. He saw command insignias from the Beltock Dragoons, local militia regiments, military police cadres and even navy officers who'd been summoned planetside. Whatever had happened to the Roshven had kicked up a hive of activity across every single part of the colonial command structure.

A hum of noise filled the air as they entered the packed briefing room, jostling for space with the rest of the officers. Eventually they found themselves space, settling into a middle row of seats in amongst a contingent of Beltock officers. Darien lowered himself into place, eyes roving across the currently empty lectern at the front of the room. Taggs flopped down beside him, his normally cheery demeanour replaced by a look taut with anger.

"You alright?" Darien murmured.

"What the hell d'ye think?" Taggs replied. "One of mine's strung up in the med centre full of bullet-holes and now we find out we didn't even snag the right guy? And on top o' that there's a brand new emergency to wrap our heads 'round? Feels like we're pissin' against the wind, mate."

He wanted to reply, but the right words wouldn't come. His jaw tightened and he folded his arms, easing back into the seat. A twinge of guilt plucked at the back of his mind – he'd made the call to take Parker in, and it had clearly been a mistake. He didn't doubt that were it not for the incident with the Roshven Adaya Merlynn would have him up in front of her for more than a few choice words.

But the cruiser's destruction had taken precedence. Slowly the hubbub subsided as the last of the military personnel found their seats, eyes now turning expectantly to the podium. A moment passed and no-one appeared; worried looks flashed around the room with a palpable tension fizzling in the air.

Eventually a side door hissed open, and from within the dark aperture emerged Adaya Merlynn, together with a trio of officers Darien dimly recognised from the station hierarchy. A storm-faced admiral followed close behind, together with a colonel from the local militia and a local police chief.

Silence and all eyes turned to the podium.

"Good afternoon," Merlynn began crisply, clasping both sides of the lectern with weathered fingers as she spoke. "As you're all no doubt aware, we have a situation developing. It's time you got the details."