First Admiral 02 The Burning Sun Read online

  Five steps later, he half-turned to flash a broad beaming smile at Emma and lost his footing. Recovering from the half stumble, Billy Caudwell blushed, turning bright red, and smiled sheepishly while waving feebly before turning away to dash to his next class.

  What have I done? Emma Wallace thought to herself, clutching her books closer to her chest. Her next class, English, was only a few steps away. The large brown sliding door was as inviting to her as the fiery pit of Hades. Still, she had to attend; fashion designers had to have good grades in English. With the sun streaming brightly and warmly through the large arched windows of the corridor, Emma Wallace trudged leaden-footed to her next class.

  Well, at least she now had a fallback position for the school dance, she considered. He wasn’t ideal, but it was better than the shameful embarrassment of arriving all dressed up and no one to dance with. There were a lot worse than Billy Caudwell at the school who might have asked her to the dance. He wasn’t that bad looking and was better than nothing at all, she consoled herself; besides, it would be easy enough to ditch him when they got there.

  But, red hair?

  Uuurgh!

  Chapter 4

  The Artreaus System

  The Bardomil Empress was not happy. As a creature who had grown used to immediate obedience, any delay in fulfilling her wishes was a cause of major irritation and anger. Silently, she stalked around the specially prepared Battle Command Centre aboard the flagship of the Bardomil Imperial Sixth Fleet. With her beautiful angelic-like face twisted in a rictus of annoyance and frustration, she stomped heavily amongst the terrified senior Officers who stood at attention in a semi-circle in front of her elevated throne.

  “Incompetent fools!” she bellowed as her immaculate dark green dress swished and swirled around her in response to every small movement, “Why are we still waiting!?”

  “M...M...Ma...Majesty,” the terrified Fleet Commander began to explain.

  “M...M...Ma...Majesty,” the Empress sneeringly mocked the frightened senior military Officer, “We have been here for nearly four hours waiting for you imbeciles to test this weapon. How much longer!?” she raged, shoving her angelic, hate-twisted, face close to the Fleet Commander’s.

  “Majesty,” the Fleet Commander swallowed nervously; hoping that he wouldn’t pass out from terror, “we have to wait for the planet to align correctly to make best use of the weapon’s potential,” he stammered.

  “That’s not good enough,” she shrieked, as if her temper tantrum could somehow speed the orbit of the doomed planet, “How much longer must we wait for your stupidity to make any progress!?”

  “The planet should be in optimal position in twenty-three minutes, Majesty,” the Captain of the Imperial Bodyguards, Sudrus, reported from one of the consoles close to the Empress.

  For a moment, the Empress paused, her face changing from a mask of hate to one of placid calm and gentleness in the blink of an eye.

  “There, Gentlemen,” she addressed the terrorised Officers sweetly, “that is how to do things efficiently; thank you, Captain Sudrus,” she smiled.

  Turning with balletic grace, the Empress tiptoed daintily up the three steps to her specially positioned throne, and sat down.

  “You are dismissed, Gentlemen,” she smiled relieving them with a regal wave of her pale grey hand.

  Having been sent away, the senior Officers scattered rapidly in all directions like chickens in a coop that had been disturbed by a hungry fox, relieved to be out of her icy and deadly glare.

  Sitting comfortably on the throne, the Empress pushed a button on the Control Panel built into the right armrest. Immediately, four, two-dimensional, screens were projected from the floor of the Battle Command Centre. The screens formed a huge semi-circle that seemed to engulf the front of the Imperial throne. Each ten metre high screen, though curved, did not distort its image allowing the Empress a full panoramic view of the scenario that was unfolding before her.

  The first screen showed the disposition of the Bardomil Imperial Sixth Fleet. The Sixth Fleet was not an active front line combat formation, but was purely for ceremonial and security purposes. It was, in effect, her own private protection and display formation. The flagship of the Sixth Fleet, her own personal Imperial yacht, was the three-decked Imperial Fighter-Carrier named “Taurai”. The Taurai had never carried, let alone launched in anger, one of the feared single-seat Harpoon fighters that had terrorised hundreds of galaxies. Nor had it played host to any of the Flying Devil gunships that struck dread and fear into an enemy’s heart. The Taurai was a pleasure craft designed and utilised for the transportation of the Bardomil Imperial Court and Retinue. The decks and hangars had been stripped of the paraphernalia of warfare, which had been replaced by luxurious quarters and staterooms plus various entertainment facilities and the communications equipment from which to issue orders and instructions to the sprawling Bardomil Empire.

  The Taurai was, however, protected in-formation by eight further Imperial Fighter-Carriers, which bore an over-full complement of Harpoon fighters and Flying Devils. In their tight triangular formation, the Imperial Fighter-Carriers were screened by swarms of the large, heavily armed M-Cruisers. The long cylindrical body of the M-Cruiser with its bent gull-wings was as menacing and sinister as it was impressive. Through the serried ranks of Imperial Fighter-Carriers and M-Cruisers, the Harpoons and Flying Devils darted and weaved, maintaining their vigil for any possible threat to the Head of State and absolute ruler. In neighbouring solar systems, other Bardomil Imperial Fleets would be maintaining a security cordon to protect their Empress. The full panoply of the Bardomil war machine was now on show around what was normally considered to be a backwater system in a remote galaxy of the Empire.

  The second screen showed the purpose of the visit for this huge array of Bardomil military strength. The image was of a large beautiful golden planet called “Collizon”. The planet of Collizon had no significant strategic value, nor any valuable mineral or natural resources. Its vast deep emerald green oceans supported a flimsy ecosystem with a meagre scattering of indigenous species. The dark yellow and pale brown continental landmasses reflected from the clear cloudless skies to give the planet the shining golden hue that made it instantly identifiable amongst the fourteen other drably coloured planets of the system. The top species were a few hundred thousand humanoid-type people called the Manuch. The Manuch lived by subsistence farming in their small, scattered tribal groups and presented no military threat to the Bardomil Empire. Collizon was not a hotbed of rebellion against the Empress. It did not shelter any of the numerous rebels or enemies of the Empire. It did, however, possess one vital characteristic. Collizon was a life-bearing planet with an atmosphere primarily composed of Nitrogen and Oxygen that circled a yellow dwarf star at a distance of just over one hundred and fifty million kilometres.

  The third screen displayed the yellow dwarf star that sat at the heart of the fifteen planet system and which was being orbited by the emitter weapon developed by the now deceased Sammut Claggit. The weapon itself was too small to be seen by the naked eye as it circled the star, however, a hollow red square was superimposed upon the solar image to indicate the object’s position. The faint box tracked the weapon as it quietly and smoothly crossed the face of the star before disappearing behind the great burning orb.

  The final screen displayed a schematic image of the fifteen planet solar system from a perspective located above the planets. It indicated their orbits relative to each other and the yellow dwarf at the heart of the system. When the Lissian Emitter Weapon was activated this screen would show the destructive path of the super-charged plasma as it seared across the solar system destroying the planets in its relentless path. The sixth planet; Collizon, was highlighted in pale blue, in contrast to the other drab brown planetary images.

  The tension in the Battle Command Centre rose dramatically as the appointed hour for the test firing of the Emitter Weapon approached. The Battle Centre personnel, under the
implacable scrutiny of the Empress, hurried about their duties, hoping that on this of all days they would not make even the tiniest mistake. In the Imperial presence, even the smallest of errors could land someone in an execution chamber or on the very short trip out of an airlock into the emptiness of space.

  Lullina watched intently as the last few moments of the countdown were intoned by a frightened Technician who drew heavy breaths to hide her fear. But, when the count reached “zero”, nothing seemed to happen. The Empress scrutinised the third screen image for any changes, no matter how insignificant, whilst Technicians and scientists scrambled and sweated profusely over their calculations and projections. Long seconds that felt like decades drew out in the deathly silence of the Battle Command Centre as the scientists tried to work out what had happened. The Fleet Commander, ultimately responsible for the deployment of the weapon, shuffled anxiously at his Battle Station.

  The quiet buzz of communications traffic broke the almost painful silence of the Battle Centre as orders, requests reports and speculations flowed through the networks. All through the Taurai, silent wishes arose; if there’s been an error, please let it be someone else’s fault. The Empress, growing ever more agitated, shifted on her throne, her face changing from the benign and peaceful angelic half smile to the more animated and treacherous scowl that indicated her displeasure.

  “Gentlemen, why are we wait…” the Empress began from her aerie-like Imperial throne.

  She never got to finish the question as the third screen before her flickered several times and the image of the yellow dwarf star began to change colour. Moving from a bright yellow to a slightly more orange-yellow tone, the magnetic polarity of the star was altered just sufficiently to destabilise and magnify the huge nuclear reactions deep within its core.

  A moment later, a huge burst of super-heated plasma spewed out from the top left-hand quarter of the celestial body and began to snake and slither away towards the planets of the system.

  The collective sigh of relief in the Battle Command Centre was masked by a loud celebratory cheer while the personnel watched as more and more super-heated plasma was ejected from the yellow dwarf. The Empress, her face shining with delight, sat back on her throne and marvelled at the sheer volume of material being sent forth from this one tiny star.

  Snake-like, sinuous tendrils of intense plasma were speeding away from the yellow dwarf out into the emptiness of space. If the scientists were correct, the planet of Collizon would follow its normal orbital path and spin directly into the path of the advancing fiery nightmare.

  Meanwhile, on Collizon, the plant and animal life had no idea that in two hours time, they would be seared out of existence, and went about their day to day business oblivious to the horror that was heading towards them. The Empress clapped her Imperial hands excitedly and watched; her black eyes shining with delight, as the stream of charged plasma burst forth seemingly without end.

  After two minutes of constant eruption, the yellow dwarf was finally exhausted. The violent plasma eruption stuttered to a halt as the last deadly spume was sent hurtling into the void of space. And, with the last lurching outburst of plasma, the Battle Command Centre put up one last cheer as the Empress smiled with satisfaction and reclined onto her throne once more. On the fourth screen before her, she saw the first streaks of yellow plasma bursting away from the yellow dwarf out into the Artreaus solar system. In two hours she would be able to see just how powerful this new weapon was and how much devastation it would wreak upon her enemies.

  And, as she marvelled at the new sadistic power the late and unlamented Sammut Claggit had bestowed upon her, an idea had already formed in her mind.

  She was going to have to be careful how she handled the deployment of this new weapon. She would have to make sure that the next solar flare disaster looked like a naturally occurring phenomenon for which the Bardomil Empire would attract no blame.

  She was going to have her revenge against Billy Caudwell and his upstart Universal Alliance.

  Chapter 5

  Planet Earth

  Elizabeth Caudwell was an angry, confused and frightened woman. She was used to being angry about the myriad of problems that life had always thrown at her. But, what she was not used to were the violent temper tantrums that seemed to appear at less than a moment’s notice from the depths of her mind. This kind of violent outspoken reaction was totally out of character for Elizabeth, and it worried her.

  It had been just over a year since her first book “My Lost Little Angel” had stormed to the top of the book-reader’s sales charts in the English speaking world. Her honest, heart breaking, and yet, heart warming reaction to the loss of her stillborn infant daughter had connected with the public in a way that had astounded even her publisher, Mr George Teddington of Teddington International Publications. Over twenty million copies of “Little Angel” had been sold in the space of that single year, making Elizabeth an extremely wealthy woman. According to Mr Teddington, sales were likely to hold up, if not improve further in the next year as the book was translated into a host of European and world languages. If Elizabeth could produce a second book, perhaps a sequel, then sales could potentially be astronomical.

  But, the great success of her first book had appeared to come at a price for Elizabeth. Something was going very badly wrong with her family life.

  She couldn’t understand how, or when, exactly, it had started, but suddenly, she felt very unhappy and violently angry with her life. She had been married to John Caudwell for almost sixteen years. At times, they had struggled to make ends meet, and there had always been arguments; usually about money. But, now they had lots of money. They had more money than they had ever dreamed they would have. The Caudwell family now wanted for nothing, but still she and John argued. They would argue about the most trivial of things, and some of the arguments could get quite fiery. She knew she had a temper; it came with the red hair, her mother had told her, but she had never known herself to be so vicious and personal in her attacks.

  Elizabeth was not a tall woman, nor did she consider herself strikingly beautiful; her nose was too sharp and her mouth was not quite straight. However, her mane of fiery red hair and bright blue eyes had set her apart from all of the other girls in the small former mining town where she had grown up.

  It had been in the old Miner’s Social Club that Elizabeth Mackintosh had met John Caudwell. He wasn’t a strikingly handsome man, but still, she found herself strangely drawn to him with his shock of bright blond hair and soulful blue eyes. The relationship had been going well with John Caudwell, until the day she found out she was pregnant. She knew how it had happened, and cursed herself for her drunken stupidity. It had been her birthday, and John had managed to “borrow” a large expensive car that he was working on at the garage where he had just completed his motor mechanic’s apprenticeship. It had chrome bumpers, huge fins at the back, and very, very comfortable seats. The alcohol had flowed freely that night at the celebration.

  The drive home had taken a long detour round some of the quieter country lanes of the area. Elizabeth had not objected to the stop in a quiet lay-by. Maybe it was the occasion or maybe the alcohol had had too great an effect, but Elizabeth soon found herself on the long luxurious leather back seat of the car making love. In those moments of passion, all reason had been abandoned, as had all sense of responsibility. It was four weeks later that she discovered that she was pregnant. In those days, the early 1970’s, single motherhood or termination would have been severely frowned upon in her hometown. The smiles of the townsfolk may have been open and welcoming, but their minds were firmly closed; none more so than Elizabeth’s strictly traditional and conservative mother’s. A wedding was hastily arranged by both Elizabeth and John’s quietly angered parents, before the baby bump would show under her long flowing ivory dress. So, with some degree of resignation and finality she had paraded down the aisle, her older sister in tow as her Matron of Honour.

  At twenty-three yea
rs of age, Elizabeth had found herself to be a pregnant married woman. John had left the garage where he worked and joined the local Police; which was a better paid and more secure job than a journeyman mechanic. With a child on the way, paternal responsibility meant that he had to forego his love of motor vehicles and subsume his life to that of his wife and child. When Elizabeth went into labour, it had been the harshest winter in living memory. Still, somehow, with a couple metres of snow on the roads, John had managed to drive the large powerful police car to the County’s main hospital.

  When Billy was born, Elizabeth could not have been more proud, and she quickly settled into the routine of marriage and motherhood. Yet, the guilt of an unexpected pregnancy gnawed at her mind. John had never said anything, and, perhaps, she was imagining it, but she was convinced that he resented her for trapping him into a marriage and life he did not particularly want. John tinkered with old motor vehicles in his off-duty moments, and made a valiant attempt to grow vegetables to supplement his police salary, but still she sensed that he was far from happy.

  At first, he appeared to be the doting new father, but as Billy grew older she began to notice just how hard he was on their son’s failings and weaknesses. She considered that young boys needed a firm hand from their fathers to keep them in line and out of trouble. They needed to know what was right and what was wrong. And, John certainly had a very strong sense of right and wrong. There were very few grey areas in the world of John Caudwell. She could look at the boys of Billy’s age in the local community and see the ones who would be troublemakers and jail-fodder in the future. She did not want Billy to go off the rails like them, and turned a blind eye to her husband’s severity.

  But, it was John’s inconsistency that troubled her. Billy seemed to be one of those children who could do no right but for doing wrong. When he came home from school with a poor report, John would be scolding him for being stupid and lazy. When Billy came home with good grades, he was scolded for that most British of failings; being too clever by half. It was a situation that Billy seemed never to be able to win. Yet, John had often told her how proud he was of their young son. He just didn’t seem to know how to tell the one person who needed to hear it most. And, that was Billy himself.