Alexander Galaxus: The Complete Alexander Galaxus Trilogy

by Christopher L. Anderson

  During one of their solitary walks on the hanger deck Alexander questioned Nazeera concerning the Chem perception of Bureel, and his constant refusal of battle. Alexander was in a quandary as to how her people, who kept the concept of honor so close to their breast, could tolerate such blatant disregard of a challenge.

  Nazeera bit her lip, but her eyes brightened at Alexander’s inquiry. “You’re becoming quite the student of culture aren’t you?” she stated. Then she answered his question, saying, “There is a fine line between a legal and acceptable challenge, and a challenge issued in desperation. Without that distinction the entire concept of honor would be transformed into an endless free-for-all for power. The military situation is correctly understood by both sides, and though my proposition is sincere, it alters the balance of things. As long as Bureel meets me in battle eventually he will bear no slight to his worm’s honor. That he refuses battle at this moment is pure practicality. Even the Chem sacrifice the timing of honor to the practicality of existence.”

  “What of my challenge to Bureel? Does the Chem civil war erase that?”

  “Absolutely not! You are a head of state, Alexander,” Nazeera insisted vehemently, “and considering the circumstances your challenge must be answered by Bureel, lest all of Chem is answerable. The timing, however, again, is flexible. The battle for the Chem Homeworld will not be delayed for the answer of a challenge, even yours. Therefore, if I succeed and Bureel survives the battle your challenge shall be answered as a matter of course. If I fail, then your challenge is my final hope.”

  CHAPTER 7

  A tall spare being, lankily folded in a Spartan chair behind a smooth faced desk idly fingered a pen like instrument; tapping it thoughtfully on a small plastic tablet. The face reminded an observer of some distant cousin of the Chem, but the expressive countenance was troubled, as if it lacked the inner self confidence of that ancient race of warriors. The Golkos, as the beings were known, were more feared than loved by their neighbors, a fact they were aware of and relished. That their neighbors feared and respected the Chem to a greater degree was not lost on the Golkos. Where the Chem prized honor the Golkos loved victory. Where the Chem demanded fair play, the Golkos sought domination. It was not so much that the Golkos as a people were twisted into evil reflections of their distant cousins as much as it was that their harsh struggle for existence and their inability to cope with themselves left them wanting in resilience when the Golkos and Chem met in the Galactic arena. The Golkos were found wanting in that early rivalry, and they became the frustrated brothers to the ancient Chem; always curbed and never quite strong enough to have their own way. There was a jealousy between the two peoples, at least on the Golkos part, and this flaw was inflamed to action when the Chem Empire became embroiled in civil war. The Golkos saw their long awaited opportunity to take the Galactic lead against the upstart Humans and their Alexander and with characteristic efficiency they seized it. For the first time in thirteen Galactic kicellia the Golkos were truly free of the Chem. This in its own right was enough to cause concern amongst her neighbors. The Golkos were not popular amongst the Galactics; they were a source of unease. Until this time only the Chem possessed the ability to suppress the Golkos wilder urgings. The Scythians at one time played with even more power by controlling those material items which the more decadent Golkos tastes became dependent upon. Released from these bonds the Golkos pulsed like a raw nerve amongst the Galactics, and they talked war. This suited the Galactics who at once saw the advantage in releasing the temperamental Golkos hound onto the threat of Alexander instead of letting it loose amongst themselves. This they did with great rapidity, at once removing themselves as targets of long pent up Golkos frustrations, and putting forth a powerful piece against Alexander.

  Rukaal, the Great Lady of Golkos, raised the haft of the pen to her sharp canines and gnawed. That she was the single most powerful Golkos in her Empire was not wasted upon her, but neither was it celebrated in her office. It was as spare as were the furniture, her clothes and her manner. Her brain, however, worked in sharp contrast to the dull and placid grey surroundings. The process of her mind were as sharp and harsh in their rationalizations as were the shadows of the ruddy crags of her Homeworld, gleaming outside her window in the final rays of the setting double star. The Lady’s grey pupil-less eyes were inextricably turned inward to her thoughts, so much so that an insistent buzzing sounded thrice, unanswered, before eventually eliciting a response. The eyes flushed with a bluish tinge, but otherwise Rukaal’s body failed to respond, until finally she said simply, “Enter!”

  A panel in the wall slid up and in walked a being so starkly different that there was no hint at any relation, no matter how distant. The Hrang which entered was tail-less reptilian biped. Unlike the other sentient reptiles of the galaxy, most notably the Seer’koh, the Hrang were heavy, slow and more prone to cogitation than action.

  “Master She-Rok I have reflected upon your brief,” Rukaal told the Hrang, again tapping the plastic tablet. “I must admit to a certain level of surprise. The skill of the Hrang at infiltration is fully as legendary as our adversary Alexander, but your agenda calls for Hrang operatives to replace specific individuals when able as opposed to a general observation of the Terran world. That is bold, Master She-Rok, even for a Golkos. I’ve no doubt that you can accomplish the latter and thereby gain a great deal of valuable information on the part of the Galactic Alliance. I must, however, express my pessimism at accomplishing the former, and with its failure negating all possibility of accomplishing even the limited objectives of the latter.”

  She-Rok bowed stiffly, but said, “Your doubt is forgivable, as the disinformation presented you has its source in the Hrang themselves.” She-Rok informed the Golkos. “May I say that we Hrang, although we generally shun excessively risky operations even when there is great profit to be had, do not enter this scenario blindly. The Hrang have ourselves been somewhat skeptical of the Scythian constabulary of Terra, especially over the last tenth of a kicellia. We have at times placed our operatives on Terra itself to estimate the credibility of Scythian report.”

  “Hrang operatives on Terra? Why was this never reported to the Galactic Counsels?” Rukaal asked.

  “The Hrang are not in the habit of admitting to all of our information gathering efforts, Lady Rukaal. The Golkos know this full well, as do you. Certainly you have contracted the Hrang for business which is not well known to other Galactics, and for good reason.”

  “This is true, Master She-Rok,” Rukaal admitted. “However, I cannot see what criticism information from Terra would expose you to.”

  “Scythian criticism of course, if they knew we were watching Terra. Seeing as the "Human Question" has been a lynchpin to Scythian policy for over a kicellia you can easily imagine they would not view any meddling in the matter with favor. At the time, approximately five percent of the present kicellia past, we did not turn up any information which would have been worthy of exposing our operations. These forays were limited in scope and objective, and indeed they did not turn up anything which would lead us to completely doubt the veracity of the Scythian claims.”

  “Very well, I will accept the logic of that position,” Rukaal nodded.

  “Thank you,” She-Rok bowed. “All this is to say, of course, that we have some experience in this particular scenario. Only experienced operatives are being used, Lady Rukaal, and each is being given very specific instructions. We have extensive dossiers on several thousand Human subjects, supplied to us by the now exiled Scythians. This information coupled with the chaotic state of affairs on Terra, and our own skill, should suffice to make the operation practical and rewarding while limiting our personal risk.”

  “Very well, I shall support the idea,” Rukaal assured him. “What assistance do you need of Golkos?”

  “We have already proceeded with the initial stages of the operation, yet we have run into difficulty.”“ She-Rok admitted, to the consternation if not the surprise of
the Golkos.

  “Apparently my approval was not necessary,” Rukaal scowled. “No doubt I would not have heard of this operation at all had the Hrang not run into difficulty. What mess can the Golkos dig you out of Master Spy?”

  She-Rok smiled, “One to your liking I would think. You see we have already placed two thousand of our operatives on Terra and they are carrying out their orders with efficiency. When our scout ships returned with the replaced Humans, however, we discovered that they were beyond our ability to interrogate with any rationality. Humans are highly resistive to the techniques of interrogation the Hrang are conversant with. We are information gatherers, but we are unable to interpret the data we have thus far gathered. Moreover, we are by choice a passive race. Though we interfere in others lives in these extraordinary times we are limited in our pursuance of the objective. Still, the Humans we have captured are deemed to have great value, and it is speculated that the Golkos could gain information through interrogation that the Hrang cannot.”

  To this statement Rukaal could only smile.

  CHAPTER 8

  Bureel stared angrily at the helmsman and demanded, “What do you mean Nazeera’s ship are increasing speed?”

  “That is what my scanners indicate my lord,” he replied somewhat nervously. “As ordered, I have set my helm for station keeping relative to the position of the Kuntok. However, the Kuntok has accelerated beyond cruise speed. Do you wish to match their speed and maintain our relative position?”

  Bureel was confused which led him to angrily lash out, “Captain, double check your helmsman’s calculations!”

  “Yes my lord,” the Captain of the Toa-Riche replied, knowing all too well Bureel’s short temper. He approached the helmsman, who moved out of the way so that he displays were clearly visible.

  Turning to Bureel, the Captain nodded. “He is correct my lord. The Kuntok has accelerated to emergency flank. I cannot say why. The rest of Nazeera’s armada has matched her speed.”

  “There must be something wrong with the Kuntok,” Bureel mumbled, scratching at his beard.

  “It is possible that she was damaged in the fight and has a runaway matter-anti-matter imbalance and that the rest of her armada is just following,” the Captain said doubtfully. “Chem doctrine is very specific. Strategic cruise speeds are to be set between superluminal gates two and five. Nazeera’s velocity is now stabilized at superluminal gate six-three; that is emergency flank. It is definitely outside of doctrinal guidance.”

  “So she will arrive at Chem before us,” Bureel asked.

  The Captain nodded again and checked the helmsman’s calculations. “She should arrive at Chem approximately five hours before us, my lord.”

  “What are the repercussions of her actions,” Bureel asked gravely.

  The Captain straightened and replied, “The obvious problem is overstressing the engines. Standard cruise gates are based on the reliability curves of the engines. We are currently at gate five, which is the highest allowable gate that guarantees the maintainability of our engines.”

  “The Kuntok has accelerated to six-three you say; so what will happen?”

  Accessing the helmsman’s displays, the Captain said, “The Kuntok and the rest of Nazeera’s armada will have an ever increasing potential of engine overheats and malfunctions. At their current speed, assuming they maintain it all the way to Chem, there is a twelve percent chance of engine malfunction.”

  “So her armada will be cut by that number. It seems to me too great a risk to violate doctrine; why violate set protocol when you are going to lose ships—it’s madness!” Bureel sighed, and said, “The Guardian Armada shall have to take care of her then.”

  “You do not wish to match her speed my lord?”

  “And violate our own doctrine,” Bureel exclaimed. “Those practices were set by our ancestor’s kicellia in our past. They are there for a reason. Let Nazeera do our job for us. Proceed as planned Captain!

  #

  Nazeera’s gambit was astutely based on her desperate strategic position, and displayed what the Galactic’s perceived as a radical departure from military decorum. That a Chem commander of Nazeera’s stature should purposefully change the Galactic order of battle as it was expected, especially at so late a point, raised a disquieting level of doubt in the minds of her adversaries. That so slight a tactic as advancing her arrival in Chem should have so momentous a meaning, and in its turn remain unanswered, caused a wave of consternation and surprise to sweep through the rebel ranks. The initial wave of exhilaration for returning to the old ways having worn off, Bureel’s officers could not help but find their lord fading in their estimation when placed next to the bright resolve of Nazeera.

  All Galactic commanders accepted the premise that warfare was irrevocably based on firepower. Command skill could of course affect the outcome of space battles, but in realistic terms this still required a balance between antagonists. Beyond a factor of one hundred and fifty percent the larger force enjoyed an exponential advantage in firepower the longer the battle progressed. Warfare was to a large extent limited in its scope and originality by mathematical law. So it was that commanders of the day were governed by certain laws of combat as well as the reality of disuse. One of the undesirable side effects of prolonged peace, of which the known galaxy had enjoyed for thirteen thousand Terran years, was the fall of combat intuition into theory. Individuals could overcome this based on their own personal talents, and in this the rebels and loyalists each in their turn recognized Nazeera as the champion over Bureel or any other commander he might choose to use. This advantage, however, paled when the reality of the numbers was apparent, and this is what Nazeera attempted to redress by creating distance between herself and Bureel. This accomplished she needed a swift and decisive victory over the Guardian Armada.

  Nazeera’s initial objective was the Khoor-Lhat the flagship of the Guardian Armada. Named for the first Chem Elder to expand the Chem Empire beyond their solar system the Khoor-Lhat was the key to a swift and decisive victory. If Nazeera could capture the flagship the Guardian Armada would swiftly follow. Loyalist forces could rally upon the surface with the full support of the Elder, the Assemblage and Nazeera’s victorious armada. Nazeera would have re-established loyalist control over Chem beyond Bureel’s ability to dislodge her. The problem with the scheme was time. Given sufficient time Nazeera, and indeed Alexander, had no doubt that the Guardian Armada could be defeated. Even if Nazeera suffered substantial casualties she would then have the option of forcing battle under cover of the Chem planetary projector batteries, again evening the odds. Time, however, was in short supply. From the Chem scans Nazeera knew she had only slightly over a sixth of a decurn, slightly over five hours, to accomplish the capture of the Guardian Armada flagship. Galactic pre-battle formations historically spent that much time trading insults. A swift victory seemed remote at best, but Nazeera was forced into taking the chance.

  “Armada Commander, the Khoor-Lhat is on our screens,” Nazar informed his sister and superior. “All warships have the proper coordinates.”

  “Order an immediate attack centered on the "Khoor-Lhat! All ships are to board at the earliest opportunity! Do not await orders. Commanders are to take the initiative!” Nazeera ordered.

  The sublight engines of the Kuntok hummed to life, and Alexander steadied himself on the rail. Officially he was an observer, and Nazeera had gone so far as to forbid him to take part in any boarding. Alexander was not, however, about to await the outcome of the battle from the relative safety of a destroyer. He reminded Nazeera that she needed every ship, and if she left him to his own devices he would undoubtedly become involved in the fray "accidently.”

  The beautiful Armada Commander simply sighed and crossed her lithe arms over her ample bosom. “I suppose the only place I can put you to keep you out of trouble is by my side. Very well, my warlord, but on the Kuntok shall you stay! No piracy! I know your past lives too well to think you do not still yearn to board a deck
slick with blood! Let it rest Alexander. You are far too important to me to waste upon a lucky blaster shot!”

  Alexander did as he was told, though he was fully armored and ready. He’d mastered the use of the Chem jet boots, though they did nothing to change his mode of fighting. He almost relished the opportunity to try them, but secretly he hoped the necessity would not come to pass. There were no circumstances where the boarding of the Kuntok was advantageous to either his or Nazeera’s cause. Therefore, Alexander settled himself to observe and learn more fully the nuances of Galactic warfare. He did not have to wait long. Nazeera’s advance was headlong into the slowly approaching Guardian Armada formation. The Guardian Armada was deployed in a standard Galactic cube formation and advanced at one tenth impulse power. As soon as Nazeera’s Armada was in range the rebels opened fire. Nazeera’s ships held their fire, transferring all their power to the shields, and they sailed right through the foremost ranks of the cube, embedding themselves in the rebel formation and making for the Khoor-Lhat. It did not take an expert to realize that the rebels were completely taken aback by Nazeera’s departure from doctrine. In a matter of half an hour Nazeera’s Armada was fully engaged with the Guardian Armada and her ships were pressing into the inner core where lay the rebel flagship.