Alien Empire

by Anthony Gillis

  “Until we arrive, Admiral Sir,” said Sikrai, grimly.

  “Indeed so Flag Captain. In the meantime though, creative ideas are required. You’ve received the news of Sector Admiral Shirazi’s unorthodox victory at Anish. I’ve sent my retroactive approval both forward to Earth and back to Shirazi, and also I’ve brevet promoted him to Fleet Admiral, and sent orders to several more Sector Admirals to send him detachments.”

  “The Administrative Central Directorate is likely to object, Admiral Sir,” said Sikrai, surprised and visibly pleased at the news.

  “No doubt, Flag Captain, but I am now Supreme Fleet Admiral in a time of war, and they will lose that argument in the Presidium. We should not stand by tradition when it interferes with results.”

  Sikrai knew Katiyar meant it. He surveyed the bridge officers, mostly Elders, knowing that some of them did not think he, an Ara’kaa, had what it took to succeed in senior command. Katiyar had made a bold move promoting him, and thereby won his undying admiration.

  He was tall for an Ara’kaa, almost Elder height, and his feather-scales gleamed gold and black in the colors of the fleet. Though, rationally, he knew it was a coincidence, in another way he saw it as a sign from fate, and was determined to pave the way, with the support of this visionary admiral, for promotions that would, at long last, ignore whether the recipient was an Elder.

  First though, they had to crush the rebels and their barbaric ringleaders on Ground. For all his thoughts, he said simply, to Katiyar, “Yes, Admiral Sir.”

  “Flag Captain, I also think we can expect the Grounders to spy on us as best they can, and to show up sooner or later in attempts to wear down the fleet en route. I have a few surprises for them.”

  On the lower level, a Communications Officer spoke.

  “Admiral Sir, we’ve seen that unknown energy reading again, in a different location. I’m not certain how long we can keep a lock, it is very faint.”

  Katiyar signaled to the weapons officer in charge of one of the energy cannons.

  “Weapons Officer, review coordinates from Comm. Can you get a lock?”

  “No Admiral Sir, line of fire is partially obstructed by Warden Ship 05402, Indomitable.”

  “Communications Officer, send instructions to the Indomitable to move forward 100 meters to… clear way for transport shuttles.”

  “Yes Admiral Sir.”

  The other ship quickly moved.

  “Weapons Officer, fire full beam. Now.”

  A brilliant beam of white energy closed the thousands of kilometers in an instant, and in that instant a tiny scout ship ceased to exist.

  47

  Word of the destruction of the scout ship, rotated in when Hanadi was finally forced to return to Ground for lack of supplies, reached Ground quickly.

  At GDC headquarters, Varen watched Haral Karden with some concern. He thought the last year had been hard on the older man. There were new lines in his face and a hint of stoop in his walk. Still, it had been a hard year for everyone.

  “If it is possible, I’d like to call for volunteers rather than ordering someone to replace that shuttle. It may become a suicide duty,” said Varen.

  Karden considered, with a thoughtful expression, “Why use scouts at all then? We know the coordinates. Let’s just lob a few spy satellites in random directions through rifts from the operating base. It will take them a while to find them all.”

  Varen looked at him, boggling, “That, Professor, is why you are the Strategic Director!”

  “If you say so. In the meantime, I think I need a nap.”

  ///

  In a large testing chamber at Neem-Jat labs, Viris and Harker were waiting for Neem.

  “What’s he been up to lately? Things are a little TOO quiet!” said Harker.

  “I couldn’t say,” replied Viris, her face and voice deadpan.

  “You’re up to something with him! After this long, you can’t fool me Viris.”

  “Oh look…” said Viris, blandly.

  Through a large pair of double doors walked a suit of Elder Power Armor, or rather, Neem wearing one.

  “Well great slopping slag!” exclaimed Harker, “Son, you look crazier than ever in that thing.”

  Neem was grinning from ear to ear and laughing almost, but thankfully not quite, like Jat.

  “I finished modifying it! They’re built for Elders, so it took some interior adaptation, and a little programming help from Viris; but look at it now!”

  “What in blazes to do you plan to DO with it, we’ve got a space war on, son!”

  “It won’t all be in space. Sooner or later we’re going to have to capture those Elder administrative worlds, and when we do, we need… this!”

  “All right Neem, but why do YOU need to be in it?”

  “Because this might be the coolest thing I’ve ever done!”

  And with that, he began running around the testing chamber, knocking down reinforced live fire targets with single punches.

  ///

  At last, the news arrived.

  Karden sent calls to the other military leaders of the League of Free Worlds. Soon he had Varen, Abida, Hraragurr, Avtil, and representatives of twenty-three other planets on an array of video screens.

  “Thank you everyone for joining me today. I’ve just received word the Elder Grand Fleet has entered wormholes. The last communications we received indicated that they were bound for Azure, Capital of Sector 123.”

  Hraragurr roared, “Now is the time! RRRRRRR! Let’s take out that starbase and see how they do without supplies!”

  Avtil interjected, speaking in calm level Elder-like tones, “Our scouts from Azure report a substantial buildup there; forty-one transports and thirty-two Warden Ships, with more appearing over time.”

  Karden paused, thinking, “We should consider that the Fleet Admiral… Katiyar … clearly knows his force is being watched, and may have secretly changed plans. Therefore I recommend that we keep a constant watch on other potential supply points in that region. Since they are getting better at finding our scouts, we’ll need to scatter spy satellites as widely as possible.”

  “Good plan!” growled Hraragurr, “But while we find out, we’ve got some heads to knock!”

  ///

  Cruising through the illuminated tunnel of the wormhole, Katiyar had time to consider his plans. He’d always liked the peace of wormhole travel, and the ever-changing patterns of energy outside; beautiful, and though explicable in scientific terms, mysterious in their way.

  He turned to Sikrai, who stood, hands folded, by his side on the bridge.

  “Your thoughts, Flag Captain?”

  “Admiral Sir, in here we have no way of knowing whether the Grounders have taken the ruse.”

  “Whether or not they do or not is less important than the improbability of their guessing our actual destination.”

  Instructions were going out hand-delivered by intelligence officers on transports, and by the few diplomatic courier ships he’d been able to lay hands on. He’d never thought much of the fleet’s lack of smaller vessels until now, but now that he saw it was short-sighted, it was too late to address the problem.

  Still, however cumbersome, his message system avoided the enemy spy ships and satellites that, in an astonishingly short time, seemed to have spread across the galaxy.

  “I wish success to Admiral Hayashi and his men in Sector 123, Admiral Sir. They’re likely to come under heavy attack by the Grounders and their traitor allies,” said Sikrai in a low and grim voice.

  “They will do their duty, Flag Captain, as you or I would in their place. We have time while in the wormhole; let us use some of it to honor those who will soon be memories.”

  And the two officers bowed their heads.

  ///

  Star Marshal Varen led a vast combined fleet, more than a thousand Liberty class starships from five different worlds, a hundred of the older Avengers, and fifty even older rift-converted SDS’s, borrowed from their usual du
ty of raiding lone Elder transports. His commanders were Star General Edad, newly-promoted Star Brigadier Driyatan, Avtil – who had adopted the newly devised rank of Fleet Commander, and Squadron Commander Atsra’aak.

  They rifted their way along the Grounder operating base network, exhausting the satellites supplies of antimatter along the way. Behind them trailed cargo transports with more antimatter to replenish the bases. At last they were ready for the last rift, under their own power. Nearly twelve hundred starships rifted through space-time and arrived at the Azure system, thousands of carefully chosen kilometers from the Elder starbase.

  On the other side the Protectorate forces had now increased to thirty-nine Warden Ships. They were arranged in a widely spaced sphere around the starbase, their heavily armed undersides facing outward. The space around them and between them and the starbase swarmed with Caltrop Missiles, and further out, small round objects floated, many kilometers apart each.

  Briefed by report from an ever-replenishing supply of spy satellites, Varen and his officers knew all of it already. Considering their new allies, Karden and Varen had decided it would be best to make Elder the command language of the fleet. Varen and the other senior Grounder officers had undergone intense Elder language training. Varen used it now.

  “Avtil, I agree with your view that those are nuclear bombs. They’re probably there to take out our missiles with blast and EMP. Let’s take them out the old fashioned way.”

  “Star General Sir, what is the old fashioned way?” asked Avtil.

  “Sorry, a figure of speech; I mean we’ll pick off the bombs with long-range conventional fire.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “All units, this is Star General Varen. On my lead, separate and advance by rifts in evasive pattern. Target the spherical objects outside Protectorate fleet. Expect incoming fire.”

  They did as he commanded, rifting and dodging long-range enemy fire, while slowly picking off the bombs. The Warden Ships fired more than a hundred nuclear missiles at them, but they rifted away to escape. A few ships either waited too long or didn’t rift far enough. The rest rifted in much closer to the enemy fleet. They blasted Caltrop Missiles with their arrays of particle beams, under heavy fire from the defenders. Missiles, Warden Ship main guns, and energy blasts from the starbase took their toll. Losses were mounting, but at last it was time.

  “All units, rift to prearranged launch destinations, and launch missiles.”

  The Elders were beginning to move out from their globe formation, trying to evade the expected nuclear strike. When it appeared, they fired everything they had, a sphere of destruction, in missile, beam, and gun form, spread outward from the globe of ships.

  It wasn’t enough to stop two thousand small incoming warheads.

  The League ships rifted away. The Protectorate fleet and starbase disappeared amidst hundreds of small nuclear explosions, but they’d exacted a price of their own. From the operating base, Varen signaled back to Ground, “Karden, we’ve counted our losses; twenty-nine SDS, thirty-five Avengers, and two hundred eight Liberty ships. They’re adapting to our tactics. We’re in for some hard fights.”

  ///

  Many light years away, Squadron Commander Enyarial, a Tsamier from Solidarity 17, was on duty harassing the Elder forces at Anish, the Sector 101 capital.

  Admiral Shirazi was gradually massing a large fleet within the heavily defended zone near Anish. It had grown to fifty-four Warden Ships and eighty transports. He’d turned the area for thousands of kilometers around into a minefield of bombs and Caltrop missiles. Shirazi had also been using fighters and shuttles to steadily hunt down and destroy spy satellites, while sending out messages of his own through wormholes generated in the vicinity of the starbase. They were often unstable and they had to be hideously expensive in power, but some at least were getting out. The messages themselves were heavily encrypted and written in some strange new code.

  Enyarial hoped the Intelligence people back on Ground and Solidarity were keeping up with them. Warden Ships and transports were arriving by wormhole farther out in the solar system, and Enyarial was using his thirty Liberty ships to destroy them en route if he could.

  The Elders were getting more effective at countering. They scattered clouds of missiles around them, they blazed gun and particle fire in random patterns, daring a Grounder ship to rift within the fire zone. They kept swarms of fighters further out, ready to shoot at the first sight of a rift. Enyarial was getting some kills, but more were escaping. He was losing ships every few days, but unlike the Elders, he could easily return home, resupply, and come back fully reinforced.

  One day a particularly rich prize appeared. Five transports escorted by a single Warden Ship. He rifted his squadron in their vicinity, far enough out to deal with their countermeasures before closing in for the kill. Then something unexpected happened. The convoy had jumped into an area near a patch of asteroids. It was unusual, since that increased the chance of hitting something near the wormhole exits. Something felt wrong about the situation to Enyarial…

  He never got the chance to find out what.

  Two asteroids, widely spaced, but each near a group of Enyarial’s ships, detonated in nuclear explosions. Modified for minimal blast and maximum radiation spread, they failed to breach the powerful shields of the Warden Ship or its Transports. Enyarial’s squadron was another matter. Six ships disintegrated, fifteen more shattered into pieces, but the other nine began to float in space, lifeless irradiated hulks.

  From the Warden Ship, a squadron of shuttles launched. They circled, slowed, and docked next to the now-unmanned enemy ships.

  48

  “That is correct Director Sir, transports and Warden Ships are leaving by wormhole from every sector between 115 and 135, if not more, but we’re getting no reports of them reappearing.”

  Karden pondered that news, along with the recent disaster at Anish. The war was starting to look a great deal more dangerous. Outside his office windows, the wet weather of the International Zone had turned to black thunderstorms. Thankfully rift communication was impervious to weather.

  “Well Commander Avtil, they are going still going somewhere. I have an unpleasant suspicion they’re taking a page from our rules, and meeting somewhere in interstellar space.”

  “So let’s go GET them!” roared Hraragurr.

  “I wish it were so simple,” said Avtil in his calm voice, “Interstellar space is vast enough we could spend centuries searching it, and find nothing. Hiding in that vastness works just as well for them as for us.”

  “On the other hand,” said Varen, “Katiyar is drawing immense resources from a part of the galaxy we haven’t much reached yet. It will be tougher for him closer in. We’ve eliminated most of the nearer Command Starbases, other than 101, and gutted Protectorate shipping.”

  “Do they actually need to stop again?” asked Edad.

  “Yes,” said Jat, just patched into the conversation by Karden, “Warden Ships don’t carry enough fuel for really long jumps.”

  “And because of the way wormholes engines work, they can’t add more in-flight. Things would go terribly wrong if they tried,” said Neem through Jat’s speaker.

  “Not terrible for us!” growled Hraragurr.

  There were some smiles and low laughs.

  “Even if they can’t reach us directly, they can still get around the need to resupply at starbases or with local supplies. They could make their final stop in deep space as well, and then hit us by surprise, at some time of their choosing,” said Karden.

  The rest fell silent.

  He continued, “They could carry more fuel, if they were to refit their ships while waiting in interstellar space. Based on the report from Avtil, within two weeks, Katiyar could have eight thousand or more transports and four hundred new Warden Ships at his disposal. If, as it appears, he is loading them to the limit with supplies, he could have the resources to simply refuel from existing supplies onboard his fleet.”

&nb
sp; “Then Karden, it comes back to finding a way to interrupt him!” said Hraragurr.

  Karden’s mind was racing

  “Well, we won’t be so lucky as to intercept a communication giving it away. It seems clear enough that Katiyar is using couriers rather than messages we could intercept. That narrows our options to calculating our best guess as to the part of space he might be in, then performing some very intensive scouting work, and hoping luck is with us.”

  “Or, finding a turncoat,” said Tayyis, who’d been sitting quietly near Karden’s desk.

  “This might be short notice to find and recruit a traitor a third of the way across the galaxy,” said Karden.

  “Unless we could send someone closer at hand, with, false papers or something like that.”

  Avtil looked somewhat surprised, “You may be unfamiliar with Protectorate ID documentation. It is exceedingly difficult to forge.”

  “But not necessarily impossible?” replied Tayyis.

  “True,” Avtil continued, “But then there is the matter of getting someone the necessary clearances to even find out the destination of the transports. Elder security is very tight, particularly when it matters. For something like this, I’d suspect no one but the Captain and perhaps the chief Navigation Officer knows beforehand where they’ll be going.”

  “What if we didn’t need to know beforehand?” asked Karden, “We have rift transmitters, the smallest aren’t much larger than a mobile phone…”

  Neem interrupted, his voice excited, “If I made a very simple one, with nothing but coordinate functionality, and a limited number of uses, I could probably get it down to around the size of an antimatter power cell!”

  Karden considered, “So we don’t need to get someone on board the ship, we simply need to somehow smuggle a rift transmitter aboard. It would need to be in something inconspicuous, and as mundane as possible, and preferably, something that would be packed or loaded in more lax security circumstances.”