Bane of Worlds

  Bane of Worlds

  Survival Wars Book 2

  Anthony James

  © 2017 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

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher's prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed upon the subsequent purchaser

  Cover Design by Dan Van Oss www.covermint.design

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  Contents

  Limbo

  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

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Limbo

  The light from the long New Earth mid-summer day had started to fade as the yellow sun crept lower towards the horizon. There were distant clouds, already turning to a vivid red. The clouds seemed frozen in place, making unusual patterns of almost-familiar shapes. It was still hot, though the heat would rapidly escape into the night sky when it became dark.

  Captain John Nathan Duggan looked down the barren slope and into the inconceivable space within the New Earth Capital Shipyard. From his position atop one of the surrounding hills, he could see most of the hundred-square-kilometre complex – it was a drab collection of concrete and metal-walled buildings, foundries and an ever-moving sea of vehicles and people. There were three deep V-shaped channels which ran from east to west, each one flanked by structures built from massive beams, with heavy cranes visible everywhere.

  The nearest – and longest – of these channels contained the hull of the Space Corps’ newest Hadron class supercruiser. It was almost six kilometres in length and destined to be the first of the new generation of battleships, meant to outrun and outgun the Ghast Oblivions.

  “It’s doomed already,” said Commander Lucy McGlashan. Her face looked haunted and her eyes were darker than usual.

  “Why do you say it’s doomed?” asked Duggan. He already knew the answer.

  “It’s the same as the others. Bigger, a little more efficient. The Ghasts will blow it into pieces. We don’t have anything that can target and destroy their Shatterer missiles. Even a Cadaveron will give it a run for its money.”

  “It’s just a hull so far, Commander. The core goes in near last and the weapons are the final thing they fit. That’s another two or three years for the tech labs to come up with something new. I’ve heard about a few lines we’re testing in prototype. There’s real promise, I’m told.”

  “I’ve heard plenty of promises, sir. We’ve spent the whole of the last year hiding from the Ghasts, trying to buy ourselves enough time to build the fleet. What’s the point? It’s just target practise for those bastards.”

  “You’re not usually so bitter,” he said.

  She sighed in response. “Maybe it’s getting to me. Being kept off duty for so long.”

  “These things take time to resolve, you know that. We’re facing serious charges. I’d rather they got it right than rushed through a verdict.”

  “Will Admiral Slender be able to sway them?”

  “Perhaps. He’ll have to be careful he doesn’t try too hard. It’ll rub people the wrong way and make it look like he’s got a vendetta.”

  “He does have a vendetta, sir.”

  “Against me. Not against you, Lieutenant Chainer or Breeze. The investigators won’t want to be drawn into his mission to bring me down. He’s a powerful man, but he has no say over their decision. Friends on the Confederation Council might get him the result he’s after.”

  “He has those friends, doesn’t he?”

  “Fleet Admiral Slender doesn’t have friends, Commander. He’s always been respected for his abilities, rather than his personal qualities. The death of his son beat out any interest he might have had in friendship. So, the most he can expect is some nominal support. He has no one who’ll risk their careers for him. No one who’s willing to become embroiled in what could end up a messy business.”

  McGlashan looked at him curiously. “How do you know all this?”

  “I have to keep my ear to the ground, in order to ensure we get treated fairly.” Duggan gave a half-smile.

  “Any idea when we’ll hear?”

  “Soon. The sooner the better.”

  “What’ll happen if we’re cleared?”

  “We’ll be given another ship. A Gunner. Then, we’ll be sent out to do whatever it is we’ll be asked to do. And I’ll have to spend the rest of my time in the Corps looking over my shoulder for whatever comes next.”

  “I’m glad to see the Crimson’s still in one piece,” she said, changing the subject. “I don’t envy them trying to study the Dreamer tech from the inside.”

  Duggan looked into the shipyard’s middle trench. At over two kilometres long, they could have built an Anderlecht light cruiser in it. For the moment, it held the eleven hundred metre length of the ESS Crimson. It looked menacing, even at such a distance, hardly reflecting the sun’s warm light at all. Duggan couldn’t decide if the threatening quality was because of the vessel’s sleek lines or because he knew what weaponry it carried.

  “They’ve taken some of the plating off the underside and stripped out several of the Lambda clusters and Bulwarks to give themselves more room inside. I guess they didn’t want to risk breaking anything by trying to disassemble a working model.”

  “I hope it doesn’t slow them down too much. As much as I love the ship, I’d have it torn to pieces if it meant we could copy the hardware a few months sooner. Hell, even a few weeks or days.”

  “They’ve taken a gamble,” said Duggan. “A surprisingly risky gamble. It gives the Confederation an ace up their sleeve. Not one they can play every round, but if it’s played right, it could change the whole outlook for the war.”

  “By blowing up one of the Ghast planets?”

  “If that’s what it comes down to,” he said quietly. “The Ghasts seem to value strength, or at least the appearance of strength. We might not have to blow up one of their planets. If we destroyed something nearby, it might be enough to make them think twice about taking us on.”

  “We’ve got to find one of their planets first. There’s no sign of that happening anytime soon. They already know we have the capability to destroy worlds.”

  “We don’t know that, Commander. When we destroyed the tenth planet, the only Ghast ship in the vicinity was the Oblivion. One of the labs did some modelling and they figured out the battleship would have almost certainly been destroyed. The trouble with modelling the unknown
is that you can never be sure.”

  “Two seconds to us is hardly any time, sir. To an Oblivion’s AI, it’s plenty of time to package and send a signal to say what happened.”

  “Who knows?” was all he could say in response.

  “If we found one of their worlds and you had the opportunity to fire the weapon, would you do it?” She’d asked him before and he’d never given a straight answer. He could see the question and the answer were important to her.

  “I can’t tell you, Commander. Some questions are best answered only when you have to answer them. I would do my duty.”

  “Yeah.” It was a noncommittal response. Duggan didn’t know what she expected to hear from him.

  “I’ve seen enough for today,” he said. “Let’s get back to base.”

  Duggan turned his gaze away from the New Earth Capital Shipyard and walked across the parched earth towards the car he had parked up on the verge. It was ancient and decrepit, running on rubber tyres, and modelled along the same lines as an early diesel-engined jeep. He climbed into the front seat and fired it up, still half-expecting to hear the clatter of cylinders. The vehicle’s power plant was much more modern and it hummed in near-silence. Duggan pressed the accelerator and the car surged away along the rough-paved road, the rubber tyres skittering for grip.

  The Space Corps base was sprawled across a large area adjacent to the shipyard. The military owned vast swathes of land in this area – it was out of the way, yet easy to supply from the nearby megacity of Frontsberg. By the time Duggan and McGlashan got back to base, the sky was almost completely black, speckled here and there with pinpoints of starlight. Duggan parked up in one of the communal bays and stepped onto the tarmac. He looked around – there was nothing about the base that looked remotely advanced; squat, ugly buildings of steel-reinforced concrete, thrown up quickly and without thought for the final appearance.

  “They could have built this place five hundred years ago,” said McGlashan, reflecting his thoughts. “If an alien race saw this place before anything else, they’d wonder if we’ve even learned to fly.”

  Duggan grunted in response, his mind already elsewhere. He bade McGlashan goodnight and went back to his quarters. Duggan was housed in one of the larger buildings on the base, where he had a room and an office. He might be on enforced ground duty, but he was still a captain in the Space Corps until he was told otherwise. Stepping into the confines of his room, he realised how difficult it was becoming for him to stay cooped in this place. When he was in the close-quarters of a spacecraft’s bridge, the lack of space was somehow liberating. Here, it only served to remind him how much his future was in the balance and how little control he had over what was to come.

  The lights came on automatically when he stepped over the threshold. He had a desk in one corner, made from some type of lightweight mass-produced plastic. There was a screen on the desk, along with a keyboard and mouse. The technology had been around forever and here it was in his quarters. Duggan sat in front of the screen, without any great enthusiasm. The display flashed up at once, showing a list of several new messages. When he saw the subject of one, he sat up straight and opened it. There wasn’t much to read and he skimmed over it quickly, before reading it for a second time. At last, he sighed and slumped back into his seat. He called up McGlashan’s number on his desk communicator.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “We’ve been cleared of any wrongdoing,” said Duggan. “In fact, the investigation found strong evidence that we went above and beyond expectations, whilst pointing out that our positive actions in no way excuse a number of minor failings. They’ve stopped short of suggesting we get a medal,” he finished wryly.

  “That’s great, sir! What happens now?” She sounded stunned at the news. Duggan knew how badly it had affected her, having the charges hanging.

  “We go back to our normal duty, that’s what happens.”

  “As if nothing happened?”

  “Exactly, Commander. As if nothing happened.”

  As he watched his display, a new message appeared. Duggan opened it and read the contents.

  “Sir? Are you still there?” asked McGlashan.

  “You’d best pack your things, Commander. We’re shipping out tomorrow.”

  “Sir,” she said, in that one word conveying a mixture of untold relief and excitement.

  Duggan ended the call and sat in quiet contemplation for a few minutes, before he contacted Lieutenants Breeze and Chainer in turn, to let them in on the news.

  Chapter One

  “Captain Duggan!” said Admiral Teron, as if he were greeting a long-lost friend. “How have you been keeping yourself?”

  Duggan gave a mental shake of his head at the greeting. Teron knew exactly what had happened since the last time they’d met. “I’m fine, sir,” he said, taking a seat. The Admiral’s office on the Juniper hadn’t changed a bit since the last time Duggan had visited it. In fact, he couldn’t remember it changing at all in the last ten years.

  “Good of you to get here so quickly,” said Teron.

  “I had little choice in the matter, sir,” said Duggan. The trip from New Earth to the Juniper had taken almost a week on the Anderlecht ES Greeter. They wouldn’t usually employ a warship to shuttle personnel from one place to another, but the Greeter was to be permanently stationed near to the Juniper, assisting the Hadron ES Maximilian and almost a dozen Vincents. It didn’t look as if the Space Corps was going to take any further risks with the orbital. Last time Duggan had been here, two Cadaverons had almost come within launch range of their missiles, drawn to the location by an automatic emergency signal from the Crimson’s alien core.

  Teron wasn’t fond of small talk and to Duggan’s relief, the Admiral got on with business. “We’re at total war, as you know, Captain. That ensures unlimited funding to our efforts, but it does not ensure we have unlimited trained personnel to fill every role. We’re making ships faster than we can fill them, at least as far as the Vincent class is concerned.”

  “Does that mean I’m to be assigned to another Gunner, sir?” Duggan didn’t know whether to be happy or angry.

  “You’ve been cleared, Captain Duggan. Unfortunately, for you, that doesn’t mean you’ll be given command of a bigger ship. The Space Corps is required to keep you in your earned position, but that doesn’t entitle you to preferential treatment.”

  “I didn’t ask for preferential treatment, sir,” said Duggan. “Just fair treatment.”

  “If I were you, I’d keep your head down for the foreseeable future, Captain. Your exoneration doesn’t have any conditions attached, nor does it offer you any protection going forward.” Teron stared intently across the table.

  “A warning, sir?”

  “Take it as you will, Captain Duggan. I’m sure you realise how it has to be.”

  “Stuck on a Gunner until I retire or get blown to pieces.”

  “I didn’t bring you here to argue. I won’t discuss it further. I brought you here to talk about your newest assignment.”

  Duggan didn’t press the matter. He’d been around long enough to know when it was pointless. Fleet Admiral Slender wasn’t a man to forget and he’d not be happy about Duggan’s latest escape. The Space Corps’ top man couldn’t ignore the verdict of innocence, but that wouldn’t stop him doing his best to make Duggan’s life difficult.

  “What am I to do, sir?”

  “I’ll get to that shortly,” said Teron. “You’re aware we’re building warships at a tremendous rate. We’ve got dozens of new hulls laid down, and that’s not including the one hundred and fifty Vincent class that are nearing completion. In fact, the first ten have just entered service.”

  “It’s hardly been a year,” said Duggan, making no effort to hide that he was impressed.

  “Fourteen months, as it happens. Competition – it’s a wonderful thing. Each shipyard has been encouraged to do its best to beat the others. You may remember the times when the Confederation con
structed a lot more spacecraft. Rivalry was rife. All we’ve done is reminded the shipyard workers how it was in the past and I’m pleased to say they’ve responded as we hoped they would.”

  “I’m glad we’re getting up to speed, sir,” said Duggan. “Where are you heading with this?”

  “A lot of ships need a lot of metal. The engines in particular require certain rare elements in enormous quantities.”

  “We’re running out of raw materials?”

  “Not exactly. There are numerous planets in Confederation space, many of the suitable ones given over to the mining operations needed to feed our industries. However, these mines are not able to meet the demand for metals that we’re placing on them. Even if the metals are there for the taking, we lack the capabilities to mine them and transport them to our foundries. The Space Corps hasn’t stood still on this matter, and we have focused many of our efforts on increasing production at these facilities.”

  Duggan wondered where Teron was going and began to wish the Admiral would speak clearly. “Mining operations aren’t usually a concern for the Space Corps’ warships, sir. Am I to be given command of a military transport?”

  “In a manner of speaking, yes you are.” Before Duggan could open his mouth to protest, Teron waved a hand to silence him. “You’re to escort a transport vessel to one of the mining planets in the Larax Sphere. A place called Everlong. They’ve recently discovered a considerable quantity of ore which they lack the equipment and personnel to exploit. We need those metals, so we’re sending what they need to treble their output.”