Earth's Fury (Obsidiar Fleet Book 4)

by Anthony James

The grey-haired woman he’d spoken to earlier was Lieutenant Priscilla Montgomery and she continued to impress with her attitude. She noticed his approach and broke off conversation with another member of her team.

  “I was just about to bring you an update, Fleet Admiral.” She ushered him towards one of the consoles nearby.

  Duggan found his eyes roving over three of the display screens, trying to make sense of what they saw. “What’s this?” he asked.

  “As you’re aware, we’ve been tapping into that old processing box here in the bunker,” said Montgomery. “It’s old but it was still a dedicated unit, so we’re able to get some use out of it.”

  “Yes, yes,” said Duggan.

  “We’ve been clearing up the sensor feeds. Just in time to catch the attack, as it happens. I’ll show you an overlay of the damage shortly. Before that you need to be aware we saw something coming down during the bombardment.”

  “What was it?”

  “A spaceship, sir. We didn’t get a great view of it since we were focused elsewhere – I’ll show you the replay.”

  Montgomery pressed at the console and a recording played on one of the screens. The image wasn’t razor-sharp, but it was good enough for Duggan to make out a boxy spaceship dropping from orbit.

  “Here’s where we got a few missile strikes on its hull,” said Montgomery.

  Duggan watched the low-resolution feed of missiles exploding against the Vraxar spaceship.

  “And then the bombardment started,” said Montgomery.

  “Did you see where the attack came from?”

  “There was a sensor ghost.”

  “You’re sure though.”

  “Yes. Here.”

  This time there was no recording to look at, simply an enormous table of numbers. Montgomery had found a pen from somewhere and she drew an imaginary circle around a section of the screen.

  “Ix-Gorghal?” Duggan asked.

  “Yes – a huge object flew overhead, travelling in a slow orbit at an altitude of approximately forty thousand kilometres. Its arrival ties in with the appearance of this other spaceship as well as the missile attack.”

  “Are we still visible to them?”

  “We will be for another few minutes. Their speed indicates they’ll complete each full orbit in approximately two hours.” There was more bad news. “They’ve left another warship behind.”

  “For certain?”

  “More or less – I wasn’t going to tell you until I knew for definite. You’re here now, so I thought I’d better fill you in. Whatever this new vessel is, it’s larger than the Ulterior-2 – first guess is it’s eight kilometres long and displaces thirty percent more. It’s just as likely a source of the bombardment.”

  “A Vraxar battleship.”

  “I’m sure you know better than me.”

  “It’s not what I wanted to hear.” He didn’t want to dwell on it, so pointed at another screen on the console. “Show me the damage we’ve sustained on Tucson.”

  “Using the positional readings from the sensors, we’ve generated this overlay upon the base map,” she said.

  It wasn’t a pretty sight and Duggan swore.

  “They’ve hit every single one of our ground launchers as well as a few hundred of our other buildings.”

  Montgomery pointed at several different places on the overlay. “We believe they completely destroyed the weapons lab, the north-west warehouse and the plant storage facility amongst other things.” She took a deep breath. “And the entire barracks areas to the south, the west and the north.”

  “That’s all the barracks.”

  “Yes.”

  The Vraxar weren’t exactly known for their compassion when it came to the lives of others.

  “Can you tell if their warheads penetrated to the areas underneath?”

  “I don’t have that information for you, sir.”

  Even if the Vraxar missiles hadn’t breached the reinforced shelters beneath the barracks, it seemed certain the casualties would be in the thousands. If they’d used armour-piercing warheads, the number of deaths would be into the tens of thousands.

  Duggan leaned forward and tapped at one particular area of the screen. “This area is undamaged.”

  “We detected no missile strikes close to the Obsidiar Storage Facility, sir.”

  “What about the Vraxar spaceship - the one you saw dropping from orbit?”

  “It landed on this area of ground near the OSF, sir.”

  “I thought as much. This map doesn’t show the shipyard.”

  “Without a link to our satellites, we can’t get a clear picture through all these buildings on the base,” said Montgomery. She shrugged. “The Tucson array was designed to look into space, rather than at the ground.”

  “Did you detect missile blasts in that area?” Duggan persisted.

  “No, sir.”

  Montgomery clearly didn’t have anything more to offer on the matter, so Duggan changed the subject. “How are efforts proceeding to establish a hard-linked comms network?”

  “We’ve got people working on it elsewhere in the bunker, sir.”

  “How far are they getting?”

  Montgomery was experienced enough to know when there was no point in attempting to massage the truth. “We have yet to establish a single additional link, sir, and there is no guarantee that a single success will lead to more rapid progress.”

  “Thank you, Lieutenant.”

  Duggan left Montgomery to get on with her work. He was aware the members of his personal staff needed to hear this latest information, but since he required time to think he meandered his way slowly around the room.

  The situation was grim, though no more so than expected. Once Ix-Gorghal arrived, there was no amount of death or destruction which would have surprised or shocked Duggan. He paused at an empty chair and sat in it, trying to ignore the noise and activity in the room.

  The Vraxar had neutralised the New Earth defence fleet and isolated the entire planet from the rest of the Confederation. From there, they had destroyed the ability of the Tucson base to respond to an aerial threat and then sent a dropship, presumably with the intent of stealing the contents of the Obsidiar Storage Facility. With the oxygen levels falling, the enemy would soon kill everyone who didn’t have access to a sealed refuge.

  “Sir?”

  He looked up, to find Lieutenant Paz nearby with concern on her face.

  “What is it?”

  “We’ve found Benediction.”

  “Where?”

  “The deployment team just returned. They got it in place and then came home. They arrived a little while before the Vraxar missile strike, found a hard-linked comms station and reported in.”

  “I’m impressed with their efficiency.”

  “What did Lieutenant Montgomery tell you, sir?”

  “A few things I had already guessed and one I hadn’t. We’ve got thousands dead from the missile attack, there’s the start of an assault on the OSF, and finally, we have no progress in resolving our technical problems. On top of that, it appears the Vraxar have left a battleship in stationary orbit over the base.” He gritted his teeth.

  “That’s bad.”

  “The most galling part of it is, even if we somehow managed to get everything working and somehow against all the odds got a signal off-world, there’s no way Admiral Morey could get a fleet here in time.”

  “Norris could be wrong, sir.”

  “I don’t have a choice other than to act as if she is right, Lieutenant. If our warships were still up there, they’d have done something by now. I can’t see a way to salvage anything good from this.”

  “Does that mean…?”

  “I’m still thinking on it,” he said. He scratched at his stubble. “Tell me, Lieutenant Paz, why would the Vraxar leave the Ulterior-2 and the Earth’s Fury intact?”

  Paz furrowed her brow. “I can think of three reasons they might do that. The first reason: they wish to steal those warsh
ips. The second reason: neither the Ulterior-2 or the Earth’s Fury’s engines are online and the Vraxar might assume both are nowhere near completion. The fact they weren’t part of the defence fleet kind of gives it away.”

  “What’s the last reason? I probably know it.”

  “The last reason? They’re just too damned big to care. They’ve wiped out our fleet and they’re not worried about a single battleship or a mobile gun, even with a huge barrel on top of it.”

  “Why take a gamble?”

  “Is it really a gamble, sir? Besides, they might change their minds whenever they feel like it. They’re the ones controlling the show.”

  “You may be right.”

  “You don’t sound convinced.”

  “It’s my job to sound unconvinced. If you thought I accepted everything you said, there’d be no encouragement for you to improve.”

  “Really?”

  Duggan grinned. “Now it’s you who sounds unconvinced.”

  “Touché.” Paz wasn’t one for giving up and it was clear she was thinking. “Why don’t you activate the Ulterior-2 and the Earth’s Fury anyway, sir? We should be able to find enough people to fly them. What is there to lose?”

  Duggan was the only person on New Earth with the authority to sign off a fleet warship in order for its full operational potential to become available. “There’re no comms, so I can’t do it remotely. I’d have to personally sign in to the captain’s console on the bridge of each one. Even if I did so, I’m not sure what good it would do – the Earth’s Fury isn’t carrying any ammunition for its cannon and the life support system isn’t due to be brought online for another two weeks.”

  “What about the Ulterior-2, sir? I’m sure some of the entry points for this bunker would bring you out close to Trench One. With the right team we could get you there.”

  Doing his best to ignore the aching in his joints, Duggan pushed himself upright. “I think I’ve made my mind up. Come on.”

  “You’re going to the deployment site instead?”

  He didn’t answer. Instead, he beckoned Paz to follow and made his way to where the other members of his staff waited.

  “I will go to Benediction and make preparations to activate it.”

  The others exchanged glances and RL Norris looked at her feet.

  “This is it, then?” asked Lieutenant Doyle.

  “I haven’t quite given up yet.”

  “Are you sure, sir?”

  “If I’d given up every time the odds were stacked against me, I’d have died sixty years ago, Lieutenant.”

  “My apologies, Fleet Admiral.”

  “You were right to ask; however, the time is running out for me to act. The Vraxar have taken a greater interest in the Tucson base and I believe they’re in the process of landing a large number of their troops. If I stay in this bunker, it may end up impossible to reach the bomb.”

  “You’re leaving at once?” asked Lieutenant Jacobs.

  “In minutes, once I assemble a suitable team.”

  “What if we get things working here again, sir?” asked Doyle.

  “If I thought it would make a difference, I’d wait it out.”

  “You’re just going to set it off as easy as that?” Doyle understandably didn’t look pleased.

  “Nothing so straightforward, Lieutenant. I would prefer to be near it in case the decision becomes unavoidable.”

  “How will you know? What if something new comes up?”

  “You said you used to work in comms, Lieutenant. That puts you in an excellent position to oversee matters here.”

  Doyle rubbed his face. “I know we agreed on this.” He took a breath. “I need something else. A hope, no matter how remote.”

  “There is hope.” Research Lead Marion Norris spoke for the first time.

  “What is it?” Duggan urged.

  “I don’t know, sir. A number came into my head – the chance of an unknown influence upon an apparently certain outcome.”

  “What is the number?”

  “Four percent, Fleet Admiral.”

  Duggan turned his head towards Doyle. “There you go, Lieutenant. Four percent. Is that enough hope for you?”

  Doyle smiled unexpectedly. “Looks like it’ll have to be, sir.”

  “Four percent is almost a certainty when it comes to Fleet Admiral John Duggan,” said Paz, winking at Doyle.

  Her words, spoken as they were in jest, caused Duggan’s stomach to knot. Though he’d escaped from more than his share of bad situations, he made sure he never called luck to his aid. Somehow, he felt as if Paz had unwittingly spurned that tiny chance and doomed them to death.

  Trying his best not to think about it, Duggan ran through the list of people he wanted with him on his coming journey to find Benediction.

  Chapter Eight

  Twenty million kilometres away from New Earth, the heavy cruiser ES Lucid emerged from high lightspeed. A spaceship this size would have usually created an immense cloud of fission energy, though in this case, the vessel’s advanced fission suppression system concealed the giveaway signs of an inbound craft. In theory, twenty million kilometres was more than enough to ensure their safe arrival regardless of fission suppression, but with the fate of his ship and potentially the entire population of New Earth at stake, Captain Charlie Blake wasn’t in the mood to take chances.

  The moment he felt the deep fission engines cut off, he grabbed the control bars and aimed the Lucid towards New Earth, at the same time shouting out a series of orders.

  “Lieutenant Quinn, activate stealth. Lieutenant Pointer, if there’s even so much as a pebble out there, I want to know about it. Lieutenant Hawkins, be prepared to fire the overcharged particle beams upon sighting of a target.”

  The crew weren’t rookies and didn’t need these instructions. Nevertheless, Blake felt better giving the orders and his crew felt better hearing the words. It didn’t take long until the crap started overflowing.

  “I’ve got Admiral Morey on the comms,” said Pointer.

  “I want you to finish your scan as a priority. Cut her off.”

  “Done.”

  Admiral Morey wasn’t to be so easily dissuaded. She had the authority to simply force open a connection to the ES Lucid and she did so. Her voice came through the bridge speakers, dripping with sarcasm and fury.

  “Captain Blake, you appear to have taken a wrong turning. Perhaps my orders were not clear enough for you?”

  “Your orders were clear enough, Admiral Morey.”

  “That’s Acting Fleet Admiral Morey. Why have you chosen to ignore my orders?”

  “I don’t believe you have taken sufficient action to secure the safety of the citizens on New Earth. Equally, I don't believe you are acting with the sanction of the Confederation Council.”

  “I will not get into this discussion with you, Captain Blake!” hissed Morey. “You will rendezvous with Defence Fleet Epsilon and there you will relinquish command of your vessel to an officer who can follow orders!”

  “Negative, Admiral. I will not leave New Earth until I have done what I came to do.”

  “And what exactly is it you hope to achieve with a single warship, where thirty-two have already failed?”

  “The ES Lucid will remain hidden and take advantage of whatever opportunities might arise, Admiral. We will not come to an agreement here and I suggest you turn your energies elsewhere.”

  “Consider yourself removed from command as of this moment, Charlie Blake.”

  “As acting Fleet Admiral, you lack that authority, ma’am. You will require formal signed approval from three other admirals in addition to yourself. Even then, I will not deviate from my chosen course.”

  The channel went dead.

  “She cut you off, sir,” said Pointer. “In the meantime, I’ve finished my near scans and we’re clear. It’s going to take me a while to see what’s happening on New Earth – it’s a long way away.”

  “Keep at it.” Blake paused in
thought. “Can you prevent Admiral Morey from opening a channel like that again? I don’t need the distraction.”

  “It’s easily done, just completely against protocol.”

  “I don’t think we – I - need worry about that any longer. Do it.”

  “We’re all in it together, sir,” said Hawkins. “Don’t think for one moment that if we get out of this I’m going to stand in front of the court martial judges telling them how I was an unwilling participant. I’m sure I can speak for the others when I say we’ve each made our mind up about this one.”

  “Thank you, Lieutenant, that’s good to know. When it comes to it, there’s a good chance they’ll show leniency to everyone except the ship’s captain. They’re especially likely to show sympathy to officers of ensign rank and lower.”

  “There’s no need to try and keep us onside, sir,” said Ensign Charlotte Bailey. “We’re adults the same as everyone else.”

  The words went only a small distance to assuaging Blake’s growing sense of guilt at what he’d dragged them into. It was a matter for later.

  “Lieutenant Pointer, anything to report?”

  “In terms of comms, New Earth is completely and utterly silent. There are signs of a few crude low-speed signals going from place to place on the surface, but it’s nothing we can tap into. It’s civilian kit from what I can gather.”

  “It’s what we were expecting,” Blake replied.

  “There’s a lot to collate. I wish Lieutenant Cruz was still onboard. Rescuing her is just another reason to come here and try to do our part.”

  Blake shared the sentiments – there were others on New Earth he very much wished to be given a chance at life. However, he didn’t need to hear about it at the moment. “Answer the question, Lieutenant. Is there any sign of the enemy?”

  “Yes, sir. I haven’t found Ix-Gorghal yet. However, there is a series of satellites arranged in a band around the centre of New Earth.”

  “What sort of satellites?”

  “It’s difficult to be sure from here. They’re large – I’d guess close to a thousand metres in length and they look a bit like cigars. Extrapolating the known data, I estimate there are thirty such satellites in a fixed orbit at a height of about two hundred kilometres from the surface.”