Firestorm: The Relissarium Wars Space Opera Series, Book 4: The Relissarium Wars Space Opera Series, #4

By Andrew Broderick

The traitor in the Strike Force Retaliation team could bring death on them all...

The disastrous ambush at Yasta Relissarium mine ends impossibly badly, when the SFR escape ship breaks apart on reentry to Carristoux. The crash is fatal. 

The Yasta are being tipped off, and thwarting SFR at every turn. This can only mean one thing: mission plans are being leaked to the enemy ahead of time. But, who is the Yasta agent among the small team? No one is spared from the finger of suspicion. But, only one member was in all the right places at the right times. Will the traitor be caught? And will SFR even exist after the fury of the Carbonari leadership falls on them?

Don't miss Firestorm, a new space opera adventure by sci-fi writer Andrew Broderick!

If you like epic battles, action-packed adventures, and edge-of-your-seat suspense, you will love The Relissarium Wars Series!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Andrew Broderick
• Release date: Jul 25, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393033530

Book preview

One

Hundreds of voices rang out, in varying volumes of discontent. The circular chamber echoed with their concern. Senator Philo Nazir leaned forward, and pressed his thin lips closer to the microphone on the speaker’s podium. We have seen the evidence that those fanatics will stop at nothing to pursue and pervert their power! If we stand by and do nothing, Carristoux will be just as much to blame for the carnage to come as the Yasta themselves! He paused, trying to keep his temper under control. We can no longer sit idly by. We have a choice to make. Either we mobilize a territorial militia to seize control of Relisse and this new mineral, or we condemn everyone to suffer under Yasta control. It is not a matter of ‘if.’ It is a matter of ‘when.’ A reckoning is coming. What side will Carristoux be on?

Murmurs slithered through the gathered members of the regional parliament. Carristoux had long been known as a meek outer planet. It was assumed that the populus would fall in line with the Emperor, because that was the way it had always been. The young men served their time in the Carristoux Regional Militia as part of a rite of passage. The women married and bore more children to continue the cycle. The distance from their planet to the Emperor’s base—along with their submission—had been enough to keep the Imperial soldiers from breathing down their necks too closely. Of course, that was what the population of Relisse had thought, too, and look where that had gotten them: engulfed in a planet-wide inferno.

Senator Nazir clenched his fist. His nails bit crescent moons into his palms. This planet was on the verge of change. All it needed was a final push. He quietly wondered if his speech would be enough to tip the scales. One by one, the other members of parliament cast their votes. The ones who could not be there in person were represented via video conference. An overhead hologram tallied up the numbers. For a moment, Philo felt hope for their future, but it festered in the next heartbeat. The final tally was in: 352 votes to 118. Motion denied.

Anger and frustration boiled Philo’s blood. Timid children and old men with their heads in the sand, the lot of them! He ground his teeth behind the long-practiced mask of civility that he had plastered on his face. With a flourish of his robes, he left the chamber. Chanta, his aide, was waiting in the stone hallway outside of the room. She wasn’t allowed inside the actual chamber. Only current members of parliament were allowed to sit in on the actual sessions. It was supposed to keep the senators from being influenced by others during the votes. Philo scoffed and pinched his thin lips into a tighter line. How many of them already have their pockets lined with the Emperor’s coins or their hearts lined with Yasta threats? He fought back the feeling of hypocrisy that tugged at the back of his mind. After all, wasn’t he in his position because of the Carbonari? It was the opposite side of the coin, but he was just as guilty of being in power because of his alliances instead of his politics as the others.

I take it the speech didn’t go well. Chanta moved her long nail across the communications tablet that was cradled in the crook of her arm.

What gave it away?

Your charming smile and boyish delight. The light from her tablet lit up her prominent cheekbones.

Philo felt his lips curl into a wry smile. She reminded him of a well-aged wine with her dry sense of humor, and voluptuous body. Any word on our…shipment?

Chanta had worked with him—and under him—long enough to know that he was referring to the returning Strike Force Retaliation team. It is still on track for delivery.

At least one thing is going right, today. Philo’s footsteps echoed down the stone hallway. The gentle, upwards slope signified they were nearing the surface. If you could count having a traitor on the most trusted team of the Brotherhood as something ‘going right.’ His mind was a flurry of upcoming meetings and underlying worries.

Outside of the parliament’s entrance, the fresh, balmy air caressed their skin. The simple pleasure of it was lost on him. His eyes squinted along the waterside docks. At the end of the dock to his left was his private submarine. It was the latest top-of-the-line Aquacruiser, that had been featured in Interstellar Transit for three standard months in a row. Personally, he thought it was a waste of money, but the rest of the Brotherhood’s Grand Council thought it was worth the investment to keep up his guise as a frivolous-yet-forward-thinking member of parliament. Plus, it never hurt to have a high-end submarine at their disposal.

Waves lapped against the wooden planks of the dock. Philo reached his hand under his robes to press the key fob tucked into his pocket. The top hatch of the submarine unsealed with a hiss and slowly raised up. He offered his hand to Chanta to help steady her. Well, if he was being completely honest, he also did it to get a good