The Chronicles of Benjamin Jamison
Empires at War
Book 5
Part Two
Written by Thomas A. Wright
Edited by Rochelle Deans
Copyright © 2017 Thomas A. Wright
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Epilogue
I wish to thank all my fans who have supported my work. Without you there would be no Benjamin Jamison.
A special thanks to Rochelle Deans who takes the puzzle I send her and puts it all together for everyone to see.
Jesse, Stan, Gary thanks for reading the early, not so edited drafts. And like a really bad dish someone you loved once cooked, you said you liked it.
Finally, I thank my family. The love, support and interest in my work is what keeps me writing down ideas to turn into something I think people might like to read. I love you all.
Prologue
Three weeks earlier . . .
Khalnalax the Thirteenth paced his private office, his anger simmering, the color of his face much darker, bordering on crimson. The element of surprise was over and wasted. His navy was moving too slowly to capitalize on their successes. Something unexpected had happened in the Kanlost system, the messages read. His World Eaters had been attacked, some destroyed. He was unsure if any had escaped. It had been his plan to send the Kanlost fleet of World Eaters to Idaline. Now, World Eaters held in reserve, still under construction, would have to be sent to Idaline and Tormaline once they were completed instead of sending those at Kanlost.
Not only the loss of the of ships, but the loss of their cargos tormented him. Ores, precious minerals and metals lost. No new warships would be built from the ores mined and sent back to destroy the worlds of their origin. He had loved the irony . . . but it had dissipated. His treasury was not being restored but depleted. Slaves were all he had to show for his initial onslaught. Slaves were not spoils of war he could brag about without looking like a fool. They were a commodity. They had to be fed, housed and kept in a condition in which they could produce something daily. Luckily that condition only included air, and something mixed in a bucket for food. The Cjittan deserved no better.
Where are my two top advisors? Blood relatives can be so useless. He sat down, opened a drawer in his desk and moved the contents around. Zentos was not blood and marched in the direction he pointed him in, but uncle Dalex was another matter. He moved the pieces on the board a little too slowly and deliberately. His tactics were too reserved. One of them had better have more news of Kanlost and his beloved World Eaters. Their spy had little to report earlier, and now, when needed, was silent. Another example of blood and how it could work against you. He doubted Tazleaha had the merest of suspicions she had a traitor in her house.
“Bring refreshments,” he shouted. A simple command. Movement began immediately. He might as well enjoy a drink, and no one would know why he needed one. He would have another one shortly and most likely enjoy it even more. His face returned to its normal color as he forced himself to relax. He wanted to know about the small fleet that had attacked his World Eaters. A ship of Allond origin had arrived but then departed shortly after. Later transmissions indicated a fleet of ships of mixed origin. It reminded him of a pirate fleet. What pirates would be fool enough to attack his World Eaters, and why?
“My Emperor, Minister Dalex and Admiral Zentos have arrived,” the steward announced.
“About time. Send them in. What are you waiting for?”
“Gentlemen, the emperor will see you.”
Two men walked in and sat in the chairs facing him. Zentos seemed slightly excited, but Dalex was as inanimate as a rock. “Do I not deserve the respect of my highest officials that they can’t arrive on time for a meeting with their emperor?” He watched them both for their reactions. Zentos seemed alarmed and began to check his messages. Dalex decided speaking was the route he would take. His slow-witted mind began to work, searching for a way to tell him he was wrong.
Khalnalax saw two expressions on his uncle’s face. The first when he decided on his course of action and the second when the laser began burning a hole through his chest. The replacement expression as he looked from his chest to Khalnalax’s face was delicious. The weapon warmed in his hand. He kept the trigger depressed for too long. The chair and the wall would have to be repaired or replaced. Thankfully, there was virtually no blood; the wound cauterized.
Standing, looking Admiral Zentos in the eye, he decided they would leave and find a more suitable place to discuss the war. The stench was ruining his thirst and his office would need to be cleaned and refreshed.
“Admiral, let us walk to the royal docks. As my new Minister of the Navy, we have much to discuss.”
“Yes, my Emperor,” Zentos said. He closed his com. It was no longer needed for defense. The time of the meeting was moot, even if they had been fifteen minutes early. They walked quietly. Zentos waited for the next revelation.
“Minister,” Khalnalax said, using Zentos’ new title.
“Yes, my Emperor.”
“I believe my presence is needed to keep our people properly motivated. You will captain my battleship. Idaline will be our destination. We will be accompanied by four other ships. Pick them as you see fit. Our complement there will then be fifteen warships. Do you think we can hold one planet, Minister, long enough to strip it clean?”
“Absolutely.”
They entered a tower that belonged to the royal family, although access was granted to the heads of state and military. It boasted a dome at the top that opened to view the city or the royal shipyard and docks. What they saw of the docks were images streaming from space projected onto the glass-like material of the dome. It surrounded the viewer and gave the impression a person was standing in space watching everything in all directions. The images could be zoomed in and any area studied in detail. It was built so they could discuss construction and follow progress without having to leave the planet. Truth is, one of the past Khalnalax emperors feared assassination so much he refused to leave the planet. Or so it was rumored. There were berths circling the dome for private shuttles and armed escort vessels that would accompany a shuttle any time it departed. The view of the city from atop
the tower was equally enlightening and awe inspiring. Most any part of the city could be seen, and many areas could be magnified for closer inspection.
“Show me the docks. The construction of the World Eaters only,” Khalnalax spoke, addressing no one, just expecting his order to be followed. Zentos knew the control room personnel watched and waited.
“You see, Minister, we have three complete and in testing but the other two require more materials. Materials that are in short supply. We will make sure nothing happens at Idaline to interfere with our plans.”
Zentos nodded and kept silent. He knew all of this already, but felt it wasn’t wise to say so. It was best to let the emperor talk.
“We will build many more, Minister,” Khalnalax said. “We will depart now. Come. My shuttle is ready.”
Chapter One
One week earlier . . .
Captain Kimit walked the long corridor from the shuttle bay to the captain’s command center. She was early and waited for her turn to meet with Captain Dakkon. It was a shame she was most likely here for disciplinary action. Even so, she marveled at the movable hull plating that had been raised, leaving a large, open viewing area off the starboard side of the ship near the officers’ quarters. An atrium the captain had insisted be built into his ship was decorated with reminders of home. High-backed chairs with soft pillows surrounded tables, while others were turned to take in the view. She sat alone, watching as ships of different purposes moved around what was left of the Khalnalax fleet. Her thoughts wandered back to her departure from Kanlost.
“Captain, we will arrive in three, two, one.”
“Weapons, torpedoes, target the point ship’s drives. Fire!”
“Captain Kimit, torpedoes have left their tubes.”
“Fire two more.”
“Captain?”
“Go ahead. Helm, move us into targeting position, closest ship this time. Weapons, ready on my mark.”
“Captain, the fleet is in the direct path of our torpedoes,” the helm reported.
“We are in position and can fire on your command, Captain,” weapons reported.
“Noted. Fire and don’t miss.”
“Increase speed, helm.”
“Weapons, power up lasers and load more torpedoes.”
She remembered the look of relief on her weapons officer’s face when they changed direction and so did their targets. There was nothing but enemy ships and empty space at that point. Everyone was relieved when all four torpedoes struck home. She followed the strategy Captain Dakkon had sent her, except . . . she didn’t wait on the order to attack. It seemed a waste to lose the element of surprise. Their fleet made short work of the Khalnalax, then split to pursue individual ships. Dakkon finished destroying the damaged ship in front of them as he moved right into the middle of the battle, pushing the debris aside and firing the mighty cannons at the fleeing Khalnalax fleet. Some of those were captured with minimal damage after being boarded by the Allond marines.
It had been weeks since that battle. She had made her mistakes, but, fortunately, there had been no casualties because of them. Spirits were high among the Allond crews. They had risen to the challenge, putting years of training for battle to the test. There had been peace for a long time with their neighboring empires. Even so, they never slacked in their training or slowed advancing technologies to protect their Empire. The Black Scythe was proof, and it proved in battle it was capable of engaging ships almost twice its size.
Repair ships had arrived and went about tending to the damage some of the Allond ships had sustained. Teams of techs and engineers went through the wreckage of Khalnalax ships, making copies of all the data salvageable. They left the data intact for the Cjittan to filter through; any ship capable of travel was headed for the docks at Xanlos. They would be repaired and sent out to destroy their former owners. Any salvageable parts were removed and loaded to aid in the rebuilds. Kimit had received a stern lecture for her actions and knew then it wasn’t over. At least this was a nice place to sit and wait for the next one.
Kimit heard someone approaching and frowned. She was enjoying her solace. The reasons Dakkon insisted on this area being added to his great battleship were becoming clear. She wanted the peacefulness to last until she was called to the captain. The chair next to her protested ever so slightly as her cousin and leader sat down.
“Kimit, are you enjoying this little reminder of home?”
“I am, Captain; I could watch all this from bridge of the Black Scythe, but I know now it wouldn’t feel the same.”
“Here, with no other officers present, you may call me Dakkon, cousin.”
“What are our orders? Will we remain here and wait for Khalnalax retaliation?”
“Yes and no. I have spoken with Xamand and we are going to establish a defense with the Black Scythe on point aimed at Kanlost. You will return there to watch and wait. It is likely the Khalnalax will send reinforcements along the Cjittan side of the border this time, or maybe right through the heart of the Cjittan Empire. Either way, we think they will enter there and check on the World Eaters that have gone silent of late.”
“And the rest of the fleet?”
“The Sune will move deeper into Cjittan, the Brazact will remain but move further into the Empire and I will move forward into position just inside our border. The others, our ships that received the most battle damage, are staying here during repairs. Most are able if called on to assist us, but their repairs are priority right now.”
“And if the Khalnalax send another fleet against Kanlost?”
“You’re the captain. It’s your call. You and your ship just survived your first battle and fought admirably. You won’t be there alone and I won’t be there to give you orders. You will be with some battle-hardened veterans who haven’t stopped fighting for years. I can tell you, Benjamin fights to win and has no qualms about annihilating his enemy.”
“Is this what we were to meet about?”
“Yes. The atmosphere is more suited here for talking with family, even if it is issuing orders.”
“When do we depart?”
“As soon as you return to your ship and issue the order to your crew.”
“Excuse me, please. Black Scythe, this is the captain. Prepare for departure to Kanlost. I will return shortly. Be ready when I arrive,” Kimit ordered via her com then smiled at Dakkon. “Why wait?”
“Good luck, Kimit. We will be ready and waiting. If you happen to see Benjamin, tell him Xamand and I send our regards.”
“I will.”
“Oh, one more thing. When you get back to your ship, you will find forty crates. They are something we have been working on since we met Benjamin during the Hyson incident. The humans of the Alliance call them mines. We liberated those that crossed our path in space around Hyson and found them to be archaic and not very effective, but one of our young weapons engineers made some improvements. We have tested them, but not in battle.”
“I will let you know how they perform. Now I must get to my ship and get underway.” She took one more look around as she left the atrium, leaving Dakkon to his thoughts. One day she would have a ship with a little bit of home built in.
****
Two days earlier, on the bridge of Queen Tazleaha’s frigate . . .
“My Queen, our fleet is not strong enough to attack ten Khalnalax warships,” Captain Hazema said. “We need to be patient, wait for the rest of the fleet to arrive. They are but one day away. The Allond ships we purchased are larger, as are the weapons they bring to bear. We will be victorious.”
“Captain, the populations of Idaline and Tormaline cannot wait,” Tazleaha said, her patience at an end. “While the World Eaters haven’t arrived, we have sat by and watched transport after transport carry away the population to death or lives of servitude and we have done nothing. I fear we are already too late for most. Idaline will be as dead as Kanlost.”
“My Queen, I feel great pain when I see a transport ship depart from th
e star system, but if we attack now, trying to stop one departing ship, and bring down the wrath of ten warships . . . ” Hazema sighed. “It will not slow the Khalnalax down, not even briefly. They will continue sending the transports of our people. The arriving fleet in turn won’t be large enough to defeat them, although they will have better odds. As much as it pains me, we must maintain our position, then attack with our full strength.”
“Captain, we have debated long enough. The debate is over. You are relieved and demoted to first officer. Zora, make all the necessary notations and inform the ship,” Tazleaha said. “I want Commander Dela’maah on the bridge immediately.”
The captain’s shoulders slumped, his expression weary. To defy the queen was death, but in this case, agreeing with the queen was death. So many others would share his fate. His crew, his fleet. He looked to Minister Zora for the support she had shown in past discussions but found none. She looked resigned to the fact that what was to happen was inevitable. He had done his best staving off the queen for weeks, asking for her patience. A new captain with no skill in ship operations, tactics and warfare only added a finality to the fate of his ship, crew and fleet.
“Zora, Commander Dela’maah is promoted to Captain effective immediately. A ceremony will be held on Xanlos when we return victorious. Helm, plot a course and position us on the departure route the Khalnalax are using with such leisure within my Empire. Comms, notify the fleet. We are relocating and their coordinates will arrive shortly.”
“My Queen, Commander Dela’maah is on her way,” comms reported.
“All of you, it is Captain Dela’maah now, in case you didn’t hear what I just said.”
“Yes, My Queen,” the bridge officers sounded off.
Tazleaha heard the doors behind her open and close. Dela’maah walked in and Zora slipped past her through the open door. Their eyes met and Zora smiled, shook her head and whisked by.
“Ah, Captain, thank you. Please have a seat,” Taz said, motioning to the captain’s chair.
The Chronicles of Benjamin Jaminson: Empires At War (Book 5 Part Two) Page 1