Counterstrike

by D. J. Holmes

  Counterstrike

  Empire Rising Book 11

  D. J. Holmes

  https://www.facebook.com/Author.D.J.Holmes

  d.j.holmess@hotmail.com

  Comments welcome!

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to any persons living or dead, business establishments, events or locales are entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © D. J. Holmes 2021

  Prologue

  Karacknid Dreadnaught Slayer, Jaranna system.

  High Admiral Tanaka-lang waved a claw to his subordinate when the transmission from the messenger frigate reached his flagship. Moments later the visual communication from his homeworld played on Slayer’s main holo display. Tanaka-lang recognized the Imperator’s throne room. It was impossible not to, the Imperator and his throne towered over the thousands of Karacknids who were in attendance. The Imperator’s eyes stood out even more, as they always did. They glowed a deep dark red. For several seconds Tanaka-lang stared at them transfixed. Only when the Imperator stood and two forms fell to their knees in front of his throne did Tanaka-lang notice the supplicants who had been brought before Imperator Taranaki.

  One wore the markings of an Under Admiral, though Tanaka-lang didn’t know him. It was not so for the other Karacknid on his knees. Even hunched over with his back to the recorder, Tanaka-lang easily recognized him. They had been nest mates and competed against one another all through the youngling trials. Finally, by a hair’s breadth, Tanaka-lang had won the final duel to graduate top of the cohort. From there both had joined the fleet and their constant rivalry had catapulted them to the rank of High Admiral. For his entire life he had considered Hur’lang his closest friend and fiercest rival.

  In silence, both on Slayer’s bridge and within the Imperator’s throne room, everyone watched the Imperator descend the steps of his throne. He stopped directly in front of the unknown Under Admiral. Then, without warning, his massive claws swept out. In one strike Taranaki decapitated the Under Admiral. Even as the Karacknid’s head fell to the ground, Taranaki pivoted and, in one continuous movement, swiped again. His razor-sharp claws cut through Hur’lang’s neck without even a hint of resistance. Blood splattered onto the attendants nearest the front of the throne room. Then Hur’lang’s body fell over as it slumped to the floor.

  Despite their familial ties, despite their history, Tanaka-lang was filled with nothing but righteous satisfaction as his nest brother’s head bounced onto the throne room floor. Hur’lang and the Under Admiral had been given command of the invasion of Alliance space. They had failed one time too many. They had brought shame upon the Imperator. Death at the hands of the one they had failed was the only fitting way to end their shame. Death and vengeance, Tanaka-lang thought as the Imperator stood fully upright and surveyed those who had attended the execution. As the Imperator’s red eyes pierced the hearts of his people, Tanaka-lang felt the weight of his displeasure even though he was hundreds of light years away. For several seconds, the image documented the Imperator’s stare before it went blank.

  A second later it was replaced with another visual of the Imperator. He was back on his throne and the throne room was empty but for several Admirals who stood around Taranaki. “Tanaka-lang,” the Imperator bellowed, though he barely opened his mouth. “Your nest brother failed me. You will assume overall command of the war with these Alliance species. Wipe them out at any cost. They have had far too long to convert their industries for war. This invasion cannot be dragged out any further. Overwhelm them and finish them. Fail me in this and your clan will suffer the consequences.”

  When the holo display reverted to its usual image, Tanaka-lang had to blink several times to dispel the Imperator’s eyes and regain his focus. He still felt no sorrow or loss at Hur’lang’s death. All he felt was an overwhelming sense of obligation. The Alliance species had dishonored the Imperator. Every second they refused to roll over and die was a second more the glory of the Karacknid Empire was diminished. The Imperator had tasked him with ending this, and he was not going to fail.

  With fresh determination, his eyes surveyed the holographic star map dominating Slayer’s bridge. Only a third of the Karacknid Empire was on display. To show any more would have made it impossible to make anything out. The first area his eyes fell on was the former territory of the U’nama. With over three hundred settled worlds, they were the largest civilization the Imperator’s fleet had conquered in one campaign. The fighting had been fierce, but Tanaka-lang had outsmarted his opponents and defeated them in a string of three decisive fleet engagements. Now their worlds belonged to the Karacknid Empire. Soon they would begin to churn out new warships to replace those lost in the conquest.

  Tanaka-lang’s eyes moved to his battlefleet. The map marked the estimated position of the five thousand ships he had used to conquer the U’nama. Rather than heading from U’nama space back to the Imperial homeworld and then to Jaranna along the supply artery Hur’lang had set up, he had ordered his ships to traverse around the outer border of the Karacknid Empire. Though moving so many ships through sectors of the Empire with a limited supply infrastructure was slow, it was still quicker than the much longer route of heading to the center of the Empire and then back out again. His officers estimated the fleet was four months away. It would likely take another month or perhaps two to restock the ships and prepare them for the war once they arrived at Jaranna. The Alliance species and Humans employed a number of weapons and tactics that the U’nama had not. His ships needed to be prepared to face their new enemies, but soon they would be ready to begin offensive operations.

  Finally, he focused on Jaranna and the frontline with the Alliance species and the Humans. Hur’lang had done an acceptable job fortifying the border with enemy space. Yet both of his attempts to advance into enemy territory had failed. His first invasion of Alliance space had been turned back with heavy losses on both sides. Then a planned thrust into Human space to outflank the larger Alliance fleets had been thwarted before it had begun. The second loss had cost Hur’lang his head. Tanaka-lang peeled his lips back to reveal his pointed teeth as he took in the fleet dispositions. Much of Hur’lang’s fleet was spread out along the border with Human space at their various supply bases. Out of position, they had not been able to come to the aid of the Karacknid fleets along the border with Alliance space. On the image, several systems opposite Alliance territory were flashing to show they had recently come under attack. Hur’lang’s defenses were holding, but the Alliance fleets were an irritation.

  Still, Tanaka-lang thought. Hur’lang’s basic plan was sound. The Humans are the Alliance’s weak spot. With the relatively short front line between Alliance and Karacknid space, and the artificial shift passages the Alliance were known to be using, the Alliance fleets would be able to negate much of his fleet’s numerical advantage. But if the Humans fall to us, the front line the Alliance has to defend will more than double. Then our numbers can pour through the gaps. He would have to divert some ships to the border with Alliance space to make sure their probing attacks didn’t break through. But when his battlefleet arrived, their numbers would more than make up for what he would have to send away. Then we will have a fleet neither the Humans nor the Alliance will be able to stand against.

  Tanaka-lang nodded to himself. The Imperator had tasked him with ending the war as quickly as possible. He understood what that meant. The Karacknid military industrial complex wasn’t designed for long wars of attrition. His species conquered quickly and forced their defeated enemies to retool their economies to focus on a single output. It was the easiest way to keep hundreds of species enslaved, for no one species had the capability
to produce an army or navy to challenge the Imperator’s forces but it had its drawbacks. The Karacknid industrial strength was fragile. Without new conquests to keep feeding the fleet’s demands for more ships, their outward expansion would falter. But if we can defeat the Humans and the Alliance species and add their industries and technologies to our own, then it will more than make up for all the losses we have suffered. Tanaka-lang had examined the survey data himself. Beyond the Human and Alliance sectors there were more than a thousand other systems that would quickly fall to his ships. There would be more than enough riches to raise up a new generation of Karacknids if the species standing in his way could be wiped out.

  “Get me Under Admiral Meria-Kan,” Tanaka-lang demanded as he turned to his bridge officers. “We have much to discuss.”

  *

  Marseille, France.

  For the seventh time, Kilian Agarwal took a sudden left turn. He crossed two streets, turned left again, and then again after another minute’s walk. His turns put him back onto his original path. Then he slowed down. If anyone was following him, they would either be thrown off track or would reveal themselves as they scrambled to catch up with him. Since leaving the spaceport on the outskirts of the city he hadn’t seen any indication that a surveillance team was watching him, but he knew he couldn’t be too careful. His face had been plastered all over New Delhi’s news screens after the Empire’s invasion. The cosmetic surgery he had undergone in New Quebec might throw off a casual facial recognition scan, but not someone who was determined to find him. That was why he had travelled through Canadian and British colonial space before coming to Earth. With his fake identification papers and new face, there was nothing to track him back to New Delhi.

  Still, it pays to be careful, he thought as he slowed in front of an old ornate block of flats. He had already passed it once, but now that he was certain he hadn’t picked up a tail, he actually walked over to the door of one of the ground floor apartments. Gently he tapped it five times in the prearranged signal. Within moments it silently opened just enough to let him in. As he slipped through, Agarwal was greeted by two Indian women, both of them had projectile pistols pointed at him. “Good,” he said with a smile and a nod. “You shouldn’t trust anyone… anyone but me that is,” he added as he waved the guns down. “You do recognize me, Saria? Akhila?”

  “The voice is yours, but the face…” Saria replied, her gun lowering partly, but not all the way.

  Agarwal’s smile widened as he gestured to his face. “Yes, I’ve had some work done since you last saw me. Now put those away and tell me how the plan is coming together? I haven’t travelled halfway around the colonies to get shot by my own agents. Culthrapori may be dead, but I don’t intend to follow him.”

  Whether it was hearing more of his voice, or the casual mention of the fact that Agarwal had sent Saria and Akhila to Earth back when he had been the head of Culthrapori’s intelligence operations, both Indian women put their weapons away. “That’s better,” Agarwal said. “Now, update me on where things are at, and then let’s get some food. I’m starving.”

  “This way,” Saria said as she turned and led Agarwal through the apartment’s main hall, into the kitchen and then into what looked like a pantry. When all three of them were squashed in, Akhila closed the door. Then Saria reached out and eased back one of the cupboards. It moved aside to reveal stairs that led down into darkness.

  “This is a good safehouse,” Agarwal commented as he followed Saria into the darkness.

  “It took a while to find apartments that had their basements filled in,” Saria replied.

  “And even longer to dig out the staircase without being noticed,” Akhila added as Saria reached into the darkness and pulled on an old-fashioned light switch attached to a piece of string.

  As light flooded the basement, Agarwal was greeted by a single room with a large table in the center. Several seats were scattered around it. He quickly moved over to the table. Paper maps were laid on it and a couple of datapads strewn across them. Saria activated the datapads and 3D images of several buildings appeared.

  “We have struggled to recruit someone properly on the inside,” Saria said. “But we have a couple of people in two of the construction companies working on the new government buildings in Geneva and we think we have found a couple of windows of opportunity. They are not for a couple of weeks yet, so things may change. But we’ve begun making preparations. If there are changes we can reschedule, on the other hand, if their information is confirmed, then we’ll be ready.”

  “Good,” Agarwal smiled as his hands moved over the maps and designs. “What do you have in mind?”

  “This,” Akhila said as she moved over to a stack of long thin crates resting against the wall. Picking up a crowbar, she levered the top off one of the crates.

  What was inside made Agarwal’s smile widen. “Hypervelocity missiles,” he said. He was impressed at their ingenuity.

  “We picked them up on the black market pretty easily actually. After the Karacknids nuked Earth their economy was a shambles,” Akhila responded. “There is a thriving black market for all kinds of things. The new government has no way of tracking them.”

  “These will do nicely,” Agarwal said as he lifted a launcher out of its crate. It was of a slightly different design than the Indian military standard issue ones he was used to, but the differences were unimportant. He was pleased to see three missiles nestled neatly at the bottom of the crate. They are going to pay, Agarwal thought as he tossed the launcher into the air and caught it again before setting it gently in its crate. Thanks to the Empire’s intervention on New Delhi he had lost his position and power, and even his homeworld. With Culthrapori’s execution there was no way he would get any of that back. But if he couldn’t have those things, then he was going to make sure the people who took it from him wouldn’t either.

  “How many have we recruited?” he asked as he turned back to his two former agents.

  “Enough to begin what you have planned Major,” Akhila answered. “And we believe we can find more.”

  Agarwal smiled at them. “You have done well indeed.”

  Chapter 1

  The Rillelio species were once considered the friendliest and most industrious species the Empire had encountered. With everything that happened to them, it was not surprising that one of these things changed.

  -Excerpt from Empire Rising, 3002 AD.

  IS Mouse, Rillelio system.

  Captain Jennifer Steele paced across her ready room. She had itched to return to Mouse’s bridge for several hours but she restrained herself. Her mission was time sensitive, but she still needed to give her people the chance to properly survey the system. Mouse had spent the last three days in the outer edge of the Rillelio system observing everything that was going on. They had to be sure before revealing themselves so, despite her impatience, Jennifer continued to pace.

  She managed another full hour before breaking her stride and turning towards the hatch that led straight from her ready room to her frigate’s bridge. “Any changes?” she asked as soon as her foot crossed the threshold.

  “Nothing significant Captain,” Saunders, her First Lieutenant, said as he hastily got out of her Captain’s chair. “There are some elections occurring on one of the planet’s continents. They seem pretty feisty, but beyond that, the planet seems sedate.”

  “Thank you,” Jennifer said as she nodded to her First Lieutenant and took a seat. Swinging around, she turned towards Mouse’s sensor console. “Lieutenant Domingo, how is your work going?”

  “The probe has gained access to about ninety percent of their communications Captain,” Mouse’s Second Lieutenant replied. “We’ve been sifting through them for the last twelve hours. There’s no sign of any references to the Karacknids or any other alien species. There’s plenty of science fiction stories but no indication that the Rillelio have actually made contact with any other species.”

  “Then they certainly don’t
know about the war going on around them,” Jennifer surmised. The Rillelio system was in the middle of what was quickly becoming no man’s land. About fifty light-years from the edge of space claimed by Humanity and thirty from the Karacknid Empire, the Rillelio sat in the middle of a very dangerous situation. No doubt they had been identified as a system to be conquered by the Karacknids once the war was over. Mouse and Jennifer hadn’t discovered the Rillelio homeworld. A Varanni expedition ship had centuries ago and Jennifer had been dispatched to see if the Karacknids had already begun to take over. “What about the ten percent of their communications the probe hasn’t been able to access?” she asked.

  “They are mainly military, diplomatic and other encrypted COM channels,” Domingo answered.

  “So the Karacknids may have covertly made contact with the Rillelio’s leadership,” Jennifer suggested. “Though I doubt we could find out one way or the other at this stage.” She nodded again as she made a decision. “All right I think we can say it’s time for phase two to begin. There is no official sign of any Karacknid involvement in the system. Power up our reactors and engines and bring us in towards the Rillelio’s homeworld. One quarter thrust.”