Shadow of Oblivion
Richard Tongue
Shadow of Oblivion
Avenger: Book 1
Copyright © 2019 by Richard Tongue, All Rights Reserved
First Kindle Edition: October 2019
Cover by Keith Draws
With thanks to Ellen Clarke
All characters and events portrayed within this eBook are fictitious; any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
Prologue
War.
A word that no soldier ever cared to hear. A word that was deservedly feared and hated. And yet a word that sometimes came, whether anyone wanted it or not. Commander William Corrigan stood on the bridge of his ship, Courageous, looking at the sensor display that showed the rest of the Terran Republic’s Interstellar Squadron, three battlecruisers that were the heart of what passed for the battle fleet. Opposing them were a scattering of enemy ships, an array of converted merchantmen. Individually, they were no match for the squadron. Together, under a good commander, they could wreak untold havoc on anything in the system. Including the battlecruisers.
His eyes roved around the bridge, looking at the shocked crewmen and technicians at their stations, trying to focus on their work after learning the terrible, dreadful news. Earth’s relationship with its erstwhile colonies in the Asteroid Belt had been worsening for years. There’d been a few quiet skirmishes, tension that occasionally sparked into flame before being settled down by the soft words of the Diplomatic Corps.
Now that was out of the question. The Belt had attacked Terran installations on Mimas. Installations they claimed were intruding on their territory, stealing their resources. Normally, it would have been a matter for the courts, perhaps require them to bring in the neutral Martians. Not today. Today they were at war. And nothing would ever be the same again.
The doors behind him snapped open, and Admiral Klein, commander of the fleet, stepped onto the bridge, the two guards standing by the entrance snapping to attention as he walked across the threshold. Corrigan turned, offering a parade-ground salute, then stepped towards the flag officer, datapad in hand.
“Report, Commander,” Klein barked.
“Nothing new from Earth, Admiral, but we’re getting a lot of panicked traffic from the Republic ships in the system. Most of the miners are starting to move out, and they’re forming up into a convoy for the return to Earth. They’re requesting assistance. I’d suggest sending over a liaison officer to help get things organized over there. Lieutenant Chao would be my choice.”
“Fine, fine, make it happen,” Klein replied. “What about the enemy?”
“All the Belter installations in the system went dark when the declaration of war was received. Barnard’s Star is a pretty minor theater for them, Admiral, but they must know how critical it is for us. I can’t believe that we won’t come under attack, and soon. All of this has been too well planned for anything else.”
“I concur. What’s the status of the ship?”
“All three ships are on standby alert, and I’ve notified the other commanders to expect a fleet conference in the near future. I assume that…”
“Yes, of course,” Klein said. “As soon as we can work out our next move. Where’s the nearest enemy installation?”
“There’s a space station a quarter-million miles away, Admiral, a small relay and supply depot. We’ve had them under continuous observation since the declaration of war, but there’s no sign of any activity. Nothing at all. Not even the regular shuttle service. They’ve shut up shop, Admiral.”
“I suggest we pay them a visit, Commander,” he replied. “I want a Marine assault force ready to go. We’re going to take that station.”
Frowning, Corrigan replied, “The installation has no strategic value, sir, and it seems unlikely that we’ll obtain any useful information or intelligence. I would strongly recommend that we concentrate our forces and await either enemy encroachment in this system or orders from home.”
“Maybe when you have command of a task force, you’ll get to make orders like that, but I don’t have any intention of sitting around and waiting for something to happen when we have an opportunity to do something. You say you don’t see why there might be any intelligence on that station? Let me tell you something, Commander. That supply depot sends equipment and stores to quite a few of our facilities in this system, and it strikes me that would be a great place to introduce some spies into our midst. We’re going to see. Besides, it won’t do any harm to send them a message. Maybe we can convince them to clear out without a battle. I’ve made my decision. Enact it.”
“Aye, sir,” Corrigan said. “Helm, set a course for Kolinski Station, best speed, and notify the rest of the fleet to follow our lead. Tactical, I’m going to want a firing solution that disables any defense and communication systems they’ve got, and close-range sensor analysis of all docking ports. Liaise with Major Rojak to put together some sort of assault plan. On the double.” As the officers moved to obey, he turned back to Klein, and said, “We should be close enough to launch our strike in ten minutes, and have the station under control within thirty. There are likely to be casualties, sir, and…”
“I have more confidence in the ability of our Marines than you do, it appears. They know their job and they know their duty, and I don’t have any doubt at all that they can…”
“I’m not thinking of our men, sir, I’m thinking of theirs. That station houses thirty-nine civilian workers. No military that we know of. I’d like to have our medical teams standing by to accept casualties.”
“The enemy can take care of their own,” Klein replied. “We’re at war, Commander, and war has rules and ethics of its own. Maybe one day you’ll understand that. For now, do what I say.”
“Commander?” the sensor technician, a balding, grey-bearded veteran, said, “I’m picking up something, increasing signs of dimensional instability, as though someone is operating a warp field in our vicinity. It’s close, within thirty thousand miles, and rising in intensity fast.”
“What sort of scale are we talking about, Chief?” Corrigan asked.
“Task force, sir. Three, maybe four ships of our size.” He paused, then added, “Wait a minute. There’s something strange about the readings. Something I’ve never seen before. The mass suggests a formation about our size, but I’m getting indications that it might be a single ship.”
“Reinforcements from Earth?” Klein suggested.
“More likely the Belters deciding to score an easy victory,” Corrigan replied. “I think the station is going to have to wait.”
“For now,” Klein said. “For now. Communications, contact Furious, order them to proceed to the warp threshold and open fire on any enemy ships that come through. We and Glorious will…”
“Sir, we’re going to need to face them together,” Corrigan protested. “If we throw our forces into the battle piecemeal, then they’ll be defeated in detail.” He looked up at the tactical display, and continued, “We should move in as a full squadron, and…”
“I am not accustomed to having my orders questioned, especially not by my flag captain!” Klein barked. “I suppose you’d turn and run.”
“There are civilian ships forming up, sir. Right now they’re vulnerable to attack by enemy forces. We need to move into defensive formation and cover their escape. Then we can engage if the situation permits.”
“Like hell!” Klein yelled. “We’ve got a chance to win the first real victory of this war, and I have no intention of throwing it away because one of my officers turns gutless. Consider yourself relieved, until you decide that you are able to obey orders. Communications, order Furious into the fight. Best possible speed, armed for battle.”
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br /> “Belay that order, Chief,” Corrigan said. “Admiral, with all due respect, I think you need to stop and consider the situation further before making any premature moves. If we…”
“Sir,” the technician interrupted. “Something’s coming through.” He tapped a control, and the image on the viewscreen shifted, moving around to reveal a huge, spherical ship racing into the system, heavy armor wrapped around a powerful engine and the largest particle beams Corrigan had ever seen. A ship large enough to destroy a space station with a single shot. A ship with only one conceivable purpose. War.
“What the hell is that thing?” the young officer at the helm asked.
Shaking his head, Corrigan replied, “I’ve never seen anything like it…”
“I have,” Klein said. “There were some reports that the Belters were building something like this. Throwing all of their eggs into one basket. The report called it Goliath. A true, dedicated warship.” He grinned, and said, “We’re going to take it down. End this damned war right here, right now. Chief, send all tactical information to Furious. They’re going in, the rest of the formation following line astern.”
Looking at the sensor readouts, Corrigan said, “That’s suicide, sir. We’re wide open. Admiral, we’ve got a convoy of civilians to protect, thousands of tons of critical war materials to get home. That’s got to be our first priority, not some sort of suicide stunt.”
“I’ve made my decision, and it shall be obeyed,” Klein said. “Chief…”
“Chief,” Corrigan said, “Send the tactical information to the rest of the squadron, and have tactical officers prepare a coordinated battle plan.” Turning to Klein, he said, “I will not order a ship to die for the sake of your career, Admiral.”
“Chief, you will obey my order, or you will share Corrigan’s fate!”
“Chief, stand down,” Corrigan replied, moving to the Admiral. “Sir, let’s all go together, and then…”
Klein pulled his pistol from his holster, levelling it at Corrigan, and said, “One move, Commander, one move, and I will put you down like a dog.”
“Admiral, for God’s sake,” the communications technician said. “Bill’s right. We’ve got a responsibility to the civilians and the crew of Furious. I doubt Commander Nguyen would obey the order anyway, and I will not issue it.”
“You will do as you are ordered!” Klein barked, turning his pistol on the recalcitrant crewman. “We’re at war. We face the enemy.”
“For personal glory?” Corrigan asked. “Stand down, Admiral.”
“Chief, contact Commander Wells on Glorious. Then call Major Rojak to the bridge. I want Commander Corrigan placed under close arrest.”
Corrigan saw something. Klein glancing at a monitor, nervously. Suspicions raced through his mind. All of this was happening too quickly, too abruptly. It didn’t make any sense. Klein was a martinet of the worst kind, no question about it, but this was a step too far even for him.
Unless it was planned.
Unless it was a trick, a Belter trick, and Klein himself was the agent of whom he had spoken. If the Interstellar Squadron had moved into position as he had wanted, they’d have been unable to provide any support to the civilians now assembling, could easily have been bypassed as the Belters moved to wipe out all Terran facilities in the system. Goliath would be able to take them out or, more likely, force a surrender. Then turn on the Interstellar Squadron, force them to run for home in disgrace or fight a battle they couldn’t win to save lives that they had placed in jeopardy.
It seemed incredible.
But there it was.
“Admiral Klein, under Fleet Regulations One-Niner-Two, I am placing you under arrest for suspicion of providing assistance to the enemy in time of war.” Treason by any other name, Corrigan thought. “You will yield your sidearm and place yourself under arrest. I will assume command of the squadron until relieved by higher authority.” Taking a step forward, he added, “Stand down, Admiral. I know the game you’re playing. It hasn’t worked.”
The familiar tang of ozone filled the air, Klein’s laser pistol preparing to fire, and Corrigan leapt forward, chopping with his hand, trying to stop it from discharging. Proof enough that his suspicions were correct. Klein moved his hand to try and stop him, but Corrigan crashed into him with a second to spare, both men tumbling to the deck as they struggled for the pistol.
Then, there was a crack. A too-familiar, dreadful crack.
Corrigan looked down, looked into Klein’s face as the traitor took his final breath, a sneer on his face as he slumped to the deck, his head rolling to one side.
“What the hell is happening up here?” Rojak barked, the Marine reaching the bridge. “Commander Corrigan, I am placing you under arrest on a charge of murder. Stand down, sir.”
“Chief,” Corrigan said. “Contact Glorious. Tell Commander Nguyen he is in command, and that my final instruction is that we are to escort the convoy home.” He looked up at the display, at the mighty Goliath, and said, “You’re going to burn, you bastard. One day.” He paused, sighed then said, “But not today.” Turning to Rojak, he said, “Your prisoner, Major.”
Chapter 1
The locks on the cell door retracted with a disgruntled whine, and Bill Corrigan looked up, a wry smile on his face as he slid the remnants of his nauseating breakfast away. The familiar figure of Admiral Cassandra Alvarez, formerly his commanding officer, walked into the room, and she waved to the guard to close the door behind her.
“Good morning, Admiral,” Corrigan said. “Assuming it is morning. Your friends out there seem to have confiscated my watch.”
“They aren’t my friends, Bill,” she replied. “And after what you did…”
Raising a hand, he said, “I really don’t think you came all the way down here to talk about ancient history.”
“It was eleven weeks ago.”
He grinned, then replied, “Like I said, ancient history. Weeks are years down here in the Hole. Or hadn’t you noticed.” Resting his hands behind his back he asked, “How goes your war?”
“Our war.”
“You’ll forgive me if I don’t share that particular point of view. After all, your office is a lot nicer than mine.” He paused, sighed, then said, “Fine, fine, how goes our war?”
“We’re losing. Badly.” She shook her head, and continued, “Which was predictable enough. We hadn’t fired a shot in anger for fifty years, and the Belters knew what was coming. They prepared. We didn’t. End of story.”
“Feel free to arrange my release in time for the victory parade.”
“I was rather hoping that you might help me arrange ours.”
“Sorry,” he replied. “I’m afraid my schedule is all tied up for the next forty years or so, though I suppose the parole board might show a little mercy before I hit mandatory retirement age.”
“What if I said I could get you out of here?”
“I’d ask just why I should be interested in leaving my little piece of paradise.” He glared at her, and replied, “What happened was wrong, Admiral. No matter how you cut it. You’ll forgive me if I don’t give a damn about the fate of a few hundred politicians. Remember the old saying? Meet the new boss, same as the old boss? The people out on the street won’t know the difference. They aren’t going to care, they’re not going to fight for you, and I’m damned sure that they won’t die for you.”
“That might not matter. They’ll already be dead.”
“Now just what in the name of God are you talking about?”
“Let’s go back a step,” she replied.
His eyes widened, and he said, “You’re telling me that millions of people are going to die, and…”
“The Belt Confederation started this war to free themselves from Earth. Most of them fled during the Nationalist Wars, and if it was just a question of securing their independence, we’d probably let them go, like we did with the Martian Colonies thirty years ago. That’s one thing. They don’t want independence. The
y want dominance. That we cannot permit.”
“And yet, by their point of view, they saved Earth and human civilization when we were in the middle of a Dark Age,” Corrigan replied. “One thing about sitting in here by myself for so long is that I’ve had time to think about things a little more clearly than you might imagine, Admiral.”
“I’ll concede your point. And as I said, we could tolerate independence. Not dominance. Most of us have grandparents who fought the final battles in the wars that united Earth. We know what freedom cost. It’s a price we’re willing to pay, and…”
“Save it for the recruitment posters. I don’t buy any of that.” He shook his head, and said, “For that matter, neither do you.”
“Fine, fine, you can sit there in a pit of cynicism all you want, but the reality of the situation is that the Belters spent twenty years getting ready for this, and they’re not stupid.”
“Unlike the bulk of the representatives in the World Senate.”
“For once we agree.” She paused, sighed, and said, “They’re going to lose the war, Bill, and everyone knows it. It’s like Japan against the United States. They have a temporary superiority, but we’ve got the orbital industries, and we still have access to lunar resources. We can out-build them, put together five warships for every one of theirs. Right now, they outgun us. In twelve, twenty-four months, that won’t be the case.”
“Hooray for us,” Corrigan replied. “Why are you here?”
“Because we don’t have twenty-four months.” She stalked across the cell, crossing it in four paces, and added, “We don’t even have twelve. We can talk about the grand campaigns we’re going to launch when the new ships come onto the line, but that’s all it is. Talk. Nothing more. The Belters have made four attempts to get a foothold on the Moon, and last time they came too damned close for my liking. If they pull it off, the war’s over.”
“My heart bleeds.” He paused, frowned, then said, “So pull in. Throw everything onto the defensive and wait them out.”
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