First Admiral 02 The Burning Sun (7 page)

“Move along there! Come on! Move it on!” an angry sounding male teacher called out above the scrimmage of jostling students as Jed turned left into the Staff Corridor.

The Staff Corridor, flanked by the various departmental staff rooms, was an adjoining corridor that linked the old Victorian-built school to the new modern tower block. It was one of those travesties of planning that had located the venerable History Department in the newest part of the school. The Staff Corridor was usually quiet and almost deserted as the two access points to the tower block from the old school were on the first floor above Jed.

Still smiling, Jed walked briskly along the Staff Corridor only vaguely aware of the group of older boys that had gathered by the stairwell close to the connecting door. It was a common enough sight in that part of school; the Monitors Common Room for the Sixth Formers, nominally charged with school discipline, was also located in the Staff Corridor. The group of half a dozen or so boys were laughing and joking as Jed approached them and made his way to the connecting door and his History lesson.

Suddenly, a leg shot out; the foot leaning against the wall opposite, blocking his progress along the corridor.

“Hello, hello, who do we have here then?” a voice called out from amongst the group.

“Come on, guys; I gotta get to mister McCrindle’s,” Jed smiled.

“I gotta get to mister McCrindle’s,” the voice mocked in a falsetto tone as its owner emerged from the depths of the group.

Michael Thomas Stewart, known as Micky, had just turned eighteen and was new to the school. By some strange quirk of fate, Micky had become a Monitor, having been appointed by the Rector. At just under two metres, Micky was tall with a powerful athletic physique. As a newcomer, Micky was an unknown quantity amongst the school body, but he seemed to be popular, especially amongst the girls; and he was quick-witted with a ready smile to share a joke.

“Seriously, I’ll be in trouble if I’m late,” Jed smiled.

Horseplay was part and parcel of any school’s culture. At this school it was always intended to be fun and with no malice involved. With that mindset, Jed did not notice the other boys in the group beginning to form a circle around him.

“You’re already in trouble for trespassing, Caudwell,” Micky smiled wickedly.

“Come on, guys,” Jed began and suddenly felt a powerful tug at his arm as his shoulder bag was snatched away from him.

“Oi!” Jed called, turning to see the smiling face of one of the boys holding his bag.

“Over here, Jimmy,” a voice behind Jed called; and the bag was flung just over his head, to the caller.

“Hey, you may not have classes to go to but I have,” Jed protested resigning himself to a game of chase and catch for his own books.

“Over here, Pete,” another voice called and the bag sailed through the air once more.

Turning quickly and reaching up, Jed found he was only just a little too short to catch the bag.

“To me, Mike,” another voice called out as the bag arced upwards once more.

Turning quickly again, Jed suddenly felt like his head had exploded as he was flung violently forwards onto his face. Stunned and dizzied, Jed then felt a vicious stabbing pain in his ribs as a well aimed kick was delivered to his torso. Being flung onto his back, Jed saw Micky with a heavy lump of wood in his hands.

“Hold him!” the hollow and distant sounding voice of Micky demanded as powerful hands dragged him to his feet pinioning his arms behind his back.

A split second later, Micky stepped forward and rammed the end of the piece of wood into Jed’s stomach, doubling him over in a world of agony. No sooner had the impact of the wood registered in Jed’s abdomen than Micky swung the lump of wood upwards to connect with Jed’s face. For a few seconds, the world of Jedithram Prust disappeared into a loud BANG followed by darkness as he hung limply between the two boys who held him. As he came to, still unable to stand up, Jed started to curse his carelessness and with an effort of will instituted full force-shielding on his Personal Environment Suit before any more damage could be done.

“Listen closely, Caudwell,” Micky Stewart hissed in Jed’s ear, “they tell me that you’re the tough nut round here, but as far as I’m concerned you’re a loser; d’ya hear me?”

Unable to respond, Jed just stared blankly at his assailant.

“That’s right, loser, you’re finished,” Micky continued, “this school’s mine now, and as for taking Emma Wallace to the dance? Forget it, loser. I’m gonna take her away from you just because I can, comprendo? So, just remember who’s in charge around here, loser.”

Aching badly from the attack, Jed said nothing and felt himself being dropped to the ground. Lying on his side, Jed sent a thought-command to the microscopic machines in his Personal Environment Suit for medical assistance. A few seconds later, the pain from his beating was gone as tiny machines stimulated his brain to produce large doses of painkilling chemicals. The machines also began to produce the phoronic radiation that would start the healing process for his damaged muscles and tendons before he could teleport up to the Ranger and proper medical attention.

Staggering to his feet, Jed picked up his bag and began to lurch his way to the next lesson. The pain relief and the image of the PES would get him through that lesson. The First Admiral would pick up the incident at the next shift change, but Jedithram Prust vowed that any payback was going to be delivered by him.

“I thought you said this Caudwell was a tough nut?” the arrogant voice of Micky Stewart echoed in the distance.

Chapter 9

The Imperial Palace, Bardan

Empress Lullina sat back on her onyx and white throne and yawned. Shifting her weight from one side of the throne to the other she felt the tedium of the situation even more acutely in her aching legs and buttocks than she did in her mind. Arranged in a loose semi-circle before her, the Military Advisory Council went through the motions of reporting the current status of the Empire to the bored, yawning Empress.

Required by ancient Bardomil law, the Military Advisory Council had no real authority or influence over the absolute power of Lullina, but she kept the tradition going mainly as a convenient means of keeping watch over the most powerful aristocratic families in the Empire who filled the ranks of its senior Officers. In days gone by, more than one Bardomil ruler had fallen foul of the leading military aristocratic families; many were related to the Empress, and as such were potential distant claimants to the throne. In reality, they were simply conduits for her orders to the vast Bardomil Imperial Armed Forces.

“…and finally, Your Imperial Majesty, may I present Junior Fleet Officer Batarrien?” the elderly General who spoke for the Council indicated.

“Proceed!” Lullina said with a formal stiffness, inwardly rejoicing that the current routine ordeal was almost over.

With a beckoning wave to one of the anterooms, the harsh sound of uniform boots on polished floor shattered the ominous silence of the meeting.

“Majesty, an honour,” the voice of a young adult male sounded respectfully around the Throne Room.

“Yes,” Lullina said languidly, and then noticed the young Officer, “and what do you have to present to us, Junior Fleet Officer?” she suddenly brightened up.

Always with a ready eye for a handsome young Officer, Lullina noticed the pleasing features and handsome physique of the young male before her, and sat forward on her throne.

“Majesty,” the young Officer bowed and began nervously, “I have just completed a cultural, political and demographical survey of this so-called Universal Alliance, and I believe I may have discovered a military weakness that we can exploit.”

“A weakness,” Lullina smiled, “how interesting; do tell us more, Officer Batarrien.”

“Majesty,” he bowed once again, “I have taken the liberty of looking further into the composition of member species within this upstart Alliance; this is an area where our own Intelligence Services are remiss. I have also looked at the species within Alliance territory that are not Alliance members, and, hence, not considered to be a threat to the Empire,”

“How exciting,” Lullina praised, “do continue,” she waved her hand daintily to indicate for the handsome Officer to proceed.

“Majesty,” he began again, “there is a group of five solar systems within the Nezadir galaxy that have no affiliation to the Universal Alliance. They are strategically located between the two main power blocs of the Alliance; the Thexxian...”

“Do not mention that name in my presence!” Lullina snapped, her mood changing in an instant.

“Majesty, a thousand pardons, but I merely wish to demonstrate a weakness that could well lead to the destruction of that, shall we say, troublesome, species,” Batarrien bowed once more.

“Really?” Lullina suddenly smiled sweetly to the young Officer, “please tell us,” she simpered.

“If I may, Your Majesty,” Batarrien activated a huge holographic Display Screen that projected from equipment hidden in the Throne Room’s high ceiling, “the current territorial extent of the Universal Alliance,”

On the huge screen, two large intersecting blobs, one blue and one red, indicating a schematic of the Universal Alliance as viewed from above.

“To Your Majesty’s left, centred around the planet of Gardarus, we have THAT species expanding out towards the unclaimed territories beyond our frontier,” he indicated, “to the right, we have the bloc centred around the planets of Colos, Therallian and Skrax that are pushing out towards the Ganthoran frontiers and those unclaimed territories.”

“Yes, that’s all very nice, but we are well aware of the Alliance’s geography,” Lullina started to lose interest even in the handsome young Officer.

“But with Your Majesty’s permission, the Alliance is not a unified body within that territory. There are systems and species that have refused to join the Alliance or are uninhabited or are considered too primitive for membership, and are, thus, undefended,” the young Officer activated the screen once more where patches of black appeared within the red and blue, “if I could draw Your Majesty’s attention to this section.”

The image zoomed down to five black areas, bordered by white, at the edge of the red sector that formed a ragged path from one side of the very edge of the red bloc to the other. The Empress, a very strategically aware creature, like most of those on her Military Advisory Council, stared open-mouthed at what appeared to be a fatal weakness in the Alliance’s territorial possession.

“What are these systems, Officer?” the Empress watched the screen intently scrutinising the details and a plan forming in her mind.

“Erm, they are Praxos, Terra, Sidionas,” Batarrien began to list the systems.

“Terra!?” the Empress interrupted, “did you say Terra!? Earth!?” she suddenly challenged, leaping up from her throne.

“Yes, Majesty, the second system,” the confused Batarrien highlighted the second black shape in yellow, “is the Terran system; it has a yellow dwarf star and one inhabited planet called Terra or Earth.”

“Majesty, if we could…” the General who spoke for the Council interjected excitedly.

“Yes, General, if we could,” the Empress smiled, “Officer Batarrien, if we could drive a wedge between the two Alliance blocs, what would the effect be on our enemies?”

“Majesty,” Batarrien began, “politically, the Alliance is still quite fragile. There is no centralised political control apparatus. Other than the military, this Alliance exists only as some abstract concept. If we can split the two blocs, those species such as the Hraxxon, the Ceradors and the Kalthans would abandon the Alliance and sue for peace with us. Withdrawing those species from the Alliance Fleet would seriously weaken their combat power. Many other species would question the wisdom of joining in the first place leaving the rump of this Alliance divided and, militarily, much weakened.”

“Your Majesty, if we could only…” the General interrupted again, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

“Calm yourself, my dear, gallant, loyal, General Tetherrien,” the Empress soothed her old war horse, “Fate has presented us with an opportunity to smite our enemies and bring glory and conquest to our Imperial forces, but we must lay our plans carefully if we are to succeed.”

“Majesty, I live to serve,” the elderly General bowed lowly, almost bursting into tears.

“Officer Batarrien, you have done well; we shall speak again later,” Lullina promised, “Councillors, go back to your commands, prepare for battle and await instructions. We must meet with our Imperial Strategic Staff,” she dismissed them all.

When the Council had gone, Lullina looked once more at the ragged pathway through the Thexxian territories and wondered why none of her planners had spotted this weakness. Perhaps, it was time for another purge of the intelligence services, she considered, and then dismissed the idea. What had originally been a retribution strike against Caudwell’s home planet was now taking on a much greater significance.

One question still niggled at the back of Lullina’s mind. Would Caudwell defend his home planet or the Alliance frontier? If Caudwell was a weak sentimental human, then the Alliance would fall, the loss of the Imperial Fleet Carriers would be avenged and the hated Thexxians finally exterminated.

It was far too good a chance to pass up, she considered.

Chapter 10

The Star-Cruiser Aquarius

Intelligence Technician (Junior Grade) Marilla Thapes drew in one last anxious breath and sighed heavily. Steeling herself, she stepped forward onto the pressure plate that would announce her presence to Senior Intelligence Officer Karap Sownus.

Clutching three red Intelligence folios in her right hand she wondered, for the dozenth time in the last hour, whether she was making a mistake or not. However, having stood on the red fifteen centimetre square pressure plate, she realised there was no turning back now.

“Yes!?” came the familiar soft and reassuring reply from within his Private Office; the opaque grey force-shielding of the door cleared, allowing Marilla to enter.