Ghost of an Empire (Sentinel Series Book 3) by Richard Flunker

Author:Richard Flunker [Flunker, Richard]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2016-04-28T04:00:00+00:00

Falcon carriers were nothing like the ocean bound ships of planetary navies. Instead, they were converted haulers. They were nothing more than large empty spaces for the fighters, bombers and fuel and ammunition. The living quarters were even smaller. Still, when Ragula slammed the door open to his tiny cabin, the extremely uncomfortable cot looked like a five star luxury resort on Ohma Prime. All that was missing were the black sand beaches and the hot women. He particularly enjoyed the culture of the planet that felt that clothing was strictly optional.

Sleep should have come instantly, but instead, his comm alarm erupted. Instead, he sat down on the bed and reached for his tablet. There was a brief moment, somewhere in between the silence and each beep of the comm, where he debated just throwing the tablet aside and pretending he didn’t hear it. No one would blame him.

But, he was a wing commander. It never looked good if he missed anything. So he tapped the screen.

A beautiful face greeted him on the other end.

“Commander Messmaria, I am glad I caught you before you fell asleep.”

“You still can. Why don’t you come down in person?”

She laughed. “Another life, perhaps. You’re needed in commsync.”

“There is no way I’m needed. I’m needed in my dreams.”

“Ragula, you know I wouldn’t bother you in any other situation, but, this is critical. You better come down.”

“It better be the damn Queen on the other end or I’m gonna have to punch someone,” he grumbled, standing up and buttoning his shirt up again.

“It is,” the flight comm officer said. She gave him a halfhearted smile, then the link died.

The pilot was left standing there, wondering if he had just dreamed the whole scene. He’d met the Queen once, as a part of the loyalty oath ceremony, along with all of the Falcon pilots. This had to be a joke.

Out he went, and down the cramped passages of the ship. He was well into his twentieth hour of being awake, after only two hours of sleep the night before, and just a few more than that before. The bustle on the ship was constant. Out in the cavernous hold of the ‘carrier’, men and women worked tirelessly on refueling, rearming and maintaining the fighters and bombers. Ants in an anthill.

Ragula stumbled into the commsync, a round room. Comm and intelligence officers sat around the outer wall of the room while the central room held a raised console. Several monitors hung above the console showing the several flight paths and tags of all the ships flying in orbit and down above the surface. Comm officer Reyes, his never ending flirt, greeted him from the other side of the room. He walked over where she met him with a cup with something hot and steaming and likely laced with something to keep him awake.

“I’m here,” he said, taking a sip. “You serious?”

She nodded and pointed to a side room. Ragula stepped in, where he was greeted by the carrier’s Captain and an intelligence officer he had never seen before.

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