First Comes Duty (The Hope Island Chronicles Book 2) by PJ Strebor

Author:PJ Strebor
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Tickety Boo Press Ltd
Published: 2016-08-10T03:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 35

Date: 21st March 322 ASC.

Position: Insolent, sitting in holding pattern, high Cimmerian orbit. Bretish Commonwealth space.

Status: Alert stand down.

Doctor Ning stepped from the stern lift and onto Insolent’s boat bay. Landing Boat Two sat before the open bay doors, the environmental force field the only thing standing between him and a sudden, awful death within the airless coldness of space. Ning shivered at the thought.

He stepped through the open hatch and checked the supplies. Three fixed seats remained. Like everyone on this mission, he had exchanged his black flight suit for camouflaged fatigues. The blue LHO armband completed the ensemble.

“Good morning, Ensign Whitney, Corporal Carpov.”

Carpov nodded.

“Good morning, Doc,” Whitney said.

“So, Ensign, this is your first time on Cimmeria?”

“Yeah, Doc, I thought I’d tag along and see the sights.”

Ning nodded and headed forward, noting the smirk which fled from Carpov’s mouth as he passed her. On the flight deck, Chief Ritchie leaned into view. She glanced up at his approach.

“Mornin’, Doc.”

“Good morning, Chief, I was wondering—”

“Wondering what, Doctor?” Ensign Telford said from the left seat.

“Ah, wondering when…” Ning caught himself. “What are you doing here, Ensign?”

Telford kept his eyes on his task. “Transporting you and your medical supplies to Cimmeria, Doctor.”

“I thought Lieutenant Valetta was on rotation.”

“What’s the matter, Doc?” Ritchie asked. “Not nervous about flying, are you?”

“We’re preparing to depart, Doctor.” Telford finally glanced at him. “Take your seat.”

Ning fell into his seat, strapped in and sighed. Pilots. They will be the death of me.

***

Nathan could scarcely believe how congested the Cimmerian orbital approaches were. Within his immediate eyesight, at least twenty orbital space docks filled his view-plate. Heavy-lift landing boats formed a continuous stream of traffic coming from and going to the planet.

He keyed his larynx mike. “Cimmeria approach control, from Athenian Landing Boat Two.”

“Approach control,” a strained voice replied.

“Landing Boat Two, on behalf of the League Humanitarian Organization, requests straight-in approach to Port Kingsford airspace.”

“Landing Boat Two, hold one,” the harassed voice said.

“Roger, approach control.”

“Is this normal?” Nathan asked.

“Yep,” Ritchie said. “It’s a mighty busy place, isn’t it?”

Nathan nodded. Two minutes passed.

“Landing Boat Two, I am sending descent coordinates to you now. Do not deviate from them. Acknowledge.”

Nathan scanned the coordinates scrolling across his nav-com.

“Approach control, Landing Boat Two acknowledges.”

“Very well, landing boat, proceed on my mark.” A pause, then, “And welcome to Cimmeria.”

Nathan piloted the boat through the orbital chaos and onto the approach beam. On only the odd occasion did he feel intimidated by the volume of traffic moving around him. His sensors would warn of any impending danger. Nathan’s eyes roamed the airspace, seeking out anything the technology might miss. The landing boat broached the high inversion layer exposing the planet. Although it was early afternoon by local time, a lingering gloom hung over the surface, giving the planet a sense of perpetual twilight.

The Kingsford Spaceport stretched to the horizon, the surrounding townships dwarfed by the immensity of the complex. To the east, the capital abutted an impossibly high, blue-tinted mountain range. South of the city, the spires of the commercial and residential center.

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