INFERNO SPHERE
OBSIDIAR FLEET BOOK 2
ANTHONY JAMES
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Reflections
© 2018 Anthony James All rights reserved
The right of Anthony James to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author
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Illustration © Tom Edwards TomEdwardsDesign.com
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CHAPTER ONE
THE HADRON BATTLESHIP ES Devastator emerged from high lightspeed travel, spilling rapidly-decaying particles of energy in its wake. The Devastator had travelled across a vast span of deep space – coming from Pioneer eighty days distant – to Roban out on the frontier of Confederation territory. The Hadron was packed with the latest Obsidiar processors, which had calculated the journey down to the millisecond and deposited the vessel a mere thirty thousand kilometres above the planet’s surface.
The Hadron’s bridge was the shape of a trapezium, tapering towards the front and surprisingly compact given the colossal size of the warship. With almost everything automated, twelve main crew was all it took to operate this five thousand metre juggernaut of engines and weapons.
Admiral Henry Talley stood on the warship’s bridge, his eyes locked onto the main sensor feed. A projected image of Roban hovered in the air, ephemeral, yet somehow beautifully real. The planet’s rotation was too slow to detect and Talley stared at the daylit side as though he could find answers to the dozens of questions which beset him.
“It looks stunning,” said Lieutenant Emily Mercer, sitting in front of a complicated bank of sensor and comms equipment to one side. “Unspoilt jungle and blue lagoons.”
Talley looked across. Mercer was young – no older than her late twenties, with blonde hair and finely-etched features that earned her more than her fair share of attention. She was a damned fine comms officer, though it wasn’t the time for her to be staring at trees and lakes.
“Eyes to your console, Lieutenant,” snapped Talley. “I need scans of the area.”
She blinked. “Scans, sir? This is a Confederation planet.”
“Just check,” he ordered. There were many things his crew were unaware of.
“We’re being hailed by the Imposition class Furnace, sir. It’s coming around the far edge of Roban. They seem surprised we’re here.”
“They will be. And shouldn’t that be ES Furnace, rather than simply Furnace?”
“That’s the name they’ve transmitted,” Mercer said, with a look of puzzlement. “What’s wrong, sir?”
Talley didn’t answer directly. “Bring them up on the screen. It’s a while since I last saw the Furnace.”
The Furnace was fifty thousand kilometres away – close enough for the Devastator’s sensors to produce an image of near-perfect clarity. The cruiser was just as Talley remembered it – two thousand five hundred metres of wedge-shaped alloy, bristling with missile batteries. It had a rounded dome at the front and rear where the particle beams were housed, whilst its thick armour plating was pitted and scarred from high-speed flight through asteroid belts and dust storms. It was a fighting ship through and through.
“They have locked onto us, sir,” said Commander George Adams in the rasping tones of a man who smoked and drank too much when he was off-duty. “Our countermeasures are prepared.”
“We won’t be needing them just yet. Lieutenant Mercer, get me a channel to their bridge.”
“I’m establishing a connection.”
“Would you like me to activate the stealth modules?” asked Lieutenant Joe Johnson. “They’re warmed up and ready to go.”
“Hold for the moment. There’s no way that could be seen as anything other than a preparation for combat and since they’re on the Space Corps network, they’ll know exactly where we are anyway.”
“Sir.”
Talley remained standing, ignoring the concentrated stares of his crew. As far as they knew, this was simply a standard patrol visit to the Confederation’s most distant planet. There’d been a few questions – probing as much as they dared. After all, the Devastator wasn’t usually sent out on routine trips such as this one, especially not with five thousand of the Space Corps’ highly-trained soldiers jammed into quarters designed to hold less than half of that number.
With the recent events on Atlantis, Talley wasn’t expecting to be here for long. The Vraxar had come to the Confederation, putting the problems with Roban and Liventor into perspective.
“I’ve got Captain Kit Mills,” said Mercer.
“Bring him through.”
The connection was perfectly clear with no background hum, such that it was difficult to be sure the comms link had been made. Talley cleared his throat.
“Captain Mills, why have you targeted the ES Devastator?”
“We were not expecting you.” Mills sounded nervous, as well he might. The Furnace was the most powerful ship stationed at Roban, but against the Devastator it was comprehensively outgunned.
“We were not expecting you, sir,” said Talley. He waited.
“I don’t report to you, Admiral Talley,” said Mills, the tremor in his voice even more apparent.
“What do you mean you don’t report to me? I am an Admiral in the Confederation’s Space Corps. You will stand down at once, Captain Mills and provide me with a full explanation as to why you have targeted a warship on your own side.”
“Roban is no longer part of the Confederation,” said Mills, almost finishing his sentence with an automatic sir. “Nor is Liventor.”
Talley was fully briefed on the declaration of independence, but it seemed appropriate that he give Mills a hard time about it, since the man had effectively stolen several trillion dollars’ worth of asset from the Space Corps fleet. In addition to his irritation about this rebellion, Talley was both pissed off and worried about the news from Atlantis. Humanity really doesn’t need this crap, he thought angrily.
“Your declaration of independence does not make us enemies, Captain Mills.”
“You have arrived without warning into our airspace, Admiral Talley.” Mills sighed audibly. “We are standing down.”
“They are no longer targeting us, sir,” said Commander Adams. He was a hard man and his face showed no recognizable emotion.
“This is something of a mess, Captain Mills.”
“You do not have permission to remain so close to Ro
ban, Admiral Talley. I must ask you to return to lightspeed.”
“You know I can’t do that.”
“They’ve scrambled two Resolve class light cruisers and three Crimson class destroyers,” said Mercer. From the look on her face, all thoughts of Roban’s natural beauty were gone.
The additional hardware wouldn’t make any difference to the outcome of an engagement.
“Time to intercept?”
“Less than a minute, sir.”
The situation was escalating far quicker than it needed to, as if the Council of Roban were determined to show their resolve in a battle they certainly didn’t need to fight.
“Captain Mills. Please speak to whoever commands you and advise them the situation here is getting out of hand.”
Mills was evidently very keen to follow this suggestion. “I will inform them immediately, Admiral.”
The connection went dead. Talley glanced around the bridge and saw expressions of dumbfounded shock. He wondered if he should have done more to prepare them. They were going to get a double dose of unwanted news in the near future.
“Lieutenant Mercer, contact the light cruisers and the destroyers. I want to be absolutely certain they will not do anything rash.”
Mercer and Ensign Gav Banks got on with it. The approaching ships were still on the Space Corps network and therefore easy to reach. The two comms operatives spoke quickly and quietly as they frantically did their best to keep on top of the situation.
Talley crossed his arms and drummed his fingers against his bicep. Outwardly he looked calm, but his jaw muscles clenched and unclenched. He reached out with one hand and opened up the topmost of his private messages.
The Confederation Council will not accept the secession. Situation volatile. Hostilities must be avoided. Await further instructions but expect recall at short notice. Duggan.
Talley grimaced. This wasn’t a situation that demanded a military mind – it was one for the politicians to resolve. The presence of the Devastator wasn’t likely to do anything other than inflame what was turning out to be a precarious situation.
The Vraxar, on the other hand, most definitely required a military mind and Talley itched to be on the return journey. Having read the report on how effective the ES Lucid was against the alien warships, it made sense to have the Devastator available as soon as possible, instead of using it to pressurize a couple of minor planets out here on the fringes. Orders were orders and for the moment, he’d need to keep the battleship near to Roban.
“Sir, I’ve checked out the assets based on Liventor,” said Banks. “They have the Galactic class ES Rampage stationed there, as well as a dozen or so smaller craft.”
Commander Adams raised an eyebrow. “The Rampage is ancient.”
“It’s been recently refitted on New Earth,” said Talley.
“One final reprieve for the old girl?” Adams replied.
“There’s a streak of the sentimental in you, Commander.”
“Me, sir? Never.”
The Rampage was something of a legend in the Space Corps – it had suffered catastrophic damage on more than one occasion, yet never quite enough for it to be written off and dismantled. It was a tough old bastard, but it was a surprise to find it had been given another refit. With money drying up for new warships, the fleet was gradually becoming older and smaller.
“Where is it?”
“I don’t know, sir. It went offline ten minutes ago according to the Juniper’s logs, along with the Imposition ES Thunder.”
“Running silent,” said Ensign Callie Sykes. “They could be anywhere.”
“Not anywhere, Ensign. They’re coming here.”
“Given what the records say about the Rampage’s engine output, that’s three days travel. The Thunder is a little slower.”
“They’ll coordinate to ensure they arrive at the same time.”
“The Rampage might swing it in their favour,” said Lieutenant Dan Poole. “In combination, they could have the firepower to defeat us.”
“Defeat is the wrong word to use, Lieutenant. It will be a disaster if we are required to fire our weapons.”
Poole fixed Talley with his blue-grey eyes. There was no sign of insubordination in them. “We must consider every eventuality, sir.”
“Of course.”
Mercer waved for attention. “I have Councillor Nicholas Alexander on the comms, sir.”
“I’ll speak to him.”
“Admiral Henry Talley,” spoke the rich, politician’s voice of Councillor Alexander.
“Councillor.”
“You’re a long way from home, Admiral.”
“I belong everywhere within the bounds of Confederation Space, Councillor.”
“We have formally seceded from the Confederation in order to form the Frontier League, as is our right under the terms of our constitution.”
“A constitution the Confederation does not accept the legitimacy of.” Talley bit his tongue, realising he was being drawn into an argument which would go nowhere and achieve nothing.
Alexander evidently thought the same. “A discussion for another day, Admiral. As it stands, we are at something of an impasse. We don’t want you here and you refuse to leave.”
“Our default position should be neutrality until our disagreements are resolved.”
“You are correct, Admiral. The Confederation does not want to count oppressed worlds amongst its number, whilst we do not wish to see the results of our hard labour shipped off to the Origin Sector without adequate recompense.”
Talley was well aware of the reasons behind Roban and Liventor’s dissatisfaction with their relationship to the rest of the Confederation. It was multi-faceted, but much of it came down to money and recognition – the usual issues. On these two planets it was huge news. Elsewhere, it hardly even got a mention, in spite of how important the major Gallenium mining operations out here on the frontier were to the other planets.
“I have been ordered to remain in orbit about Roban, Councillor. You must be aware the Confederation Council will engage in talks, rather than attempt immediate suppression.”
“I am aware of nothing until it happens,” said Alexander smoothly. “We have yet to receive an acknowledgement of our grievances, let alone a commitment to negotiate.”
Even without the appearance of the Vraxar, the Confederation Council wouldn’t give Roban and Liventor an easy ride - a fool could see that. As it was, the alien threat was a much, much higher priority. Fleet Admiral Duggan had done his best to keep news of the Vraxar from getting out to the frontier, though it was something of a tall order to keep it totally under wraps.
“Nevertheless, the ES Devastator must remain here.”
“Then you won’t mind our own warships escorting you for the duration of your visit. I trust you will not try anything which might appear to be against our interests, such as subverting the cores on the Furnace in order to take control of the warship. We will be watching very closely for any such activity.”
Talley had no intention of making promises. “We will remain stationed in orbit until I am ordered otherwise. These Robani spaceships are welcome to accompany us.”
“Very well, Admiral.”
With that, Councillor Alexander was gone. Talley swore under his breath - he’d been dumped into a bad situation. He returned to his seat in order to consider how best to proceed.
“Get me a comms channel to Fleet Admiral Duggan,” said Talley, after a few minutes’ consideration. “A private channel.”
Mercer didn’t bat an eyelid. “I’m making the request.” She hummed tunelessly for a few seconds, a habit which could have been irritating but somehow was not. “That didn’t take long. I’m sending him through.”
Talley checked his earpiece and then motioned he was ready.
Fleet Admiral John Nathan Duggan sounded alert and with a tone to his voice which gave the impression he wasn’t in a good mood. His accent was unidentifiable, suggesting he’d spent his life
on more than one planet.
“Henry, the situation is not a good one,” said Duggan, cutting to the chase.
Talley smiled grimly. “We have discovered as much, John. They seem eager to confront us.”
“Are you outmatched? They might be tempted into doing something particularly stupid if they believe they have the upper hand.”
“It’s still in our favour, though they have more warships inbound from Liventor.”
“The Rampage.”
“They’ve taken it off the comms network, but it doesn’t take much to work out where it’s headed.”
“It’s one of the few remaining Obsidiar-cored ships in the fleet.”
“I’m aware. It’s not long out of the shipyard – for once it’s a shame they didn’t remove the core. Now the Rampage is here and involved in a rebellion against the Confederation.”
The Space Corps tried to cling onto every Obsidiar core for as long as possible. On this occasion it was coming back to bite them.
“Unfortunate doesn’t adequately describe it. We will need the Rampage on our side when the Vraxar return.”
“Is there time for diplomacy with the rebels?”
Duggan laughed without humour. “I am willing to take a gamble and leave you out there for a short while. The projections team believe we have a few months until the Vraxar manage to crack the ES Determinant’s memory arrays and find out where our other planets are located. Unfortunately, there are complications, the details of which I will send you shortly.”
Inferno Sphere (Obsidiar Fleet Book 2) Page 1
