Alexander Galaxus: The Complete Alexander Galaxus Trilogy

by Christopher L. Anderson

  “We have never given our warships so much autonomy,” Admiral S’kreen replied, nervously drumming her claws on the rail. “Your idea is logical, and should not be beyond the grasp of our people, but we are asking a great deal of them. I am especially concerned with the Syraptose and Quotterim strike forces. Any change seems to shake their resolve.”

  “We are asking a great deal, but our worlds and our empires are asking even more of us Admiral. How can we disappoint them?”

  “I will support your decision, Grand Admiral,” the Seer’koh replied. “What I can do I shall.”

  “Excellent! Then let us get to work, Admiral!”

  It was more difficult than Admiral Khandar anticipated. The order to break up the fleet was so unexpected and so beyond the normal rigidity of Galactic doctrine that it was simply beyond the understanding for most commanders. Khandar was forced to go through a laborious series of conferences, and took a much greater personal role in the action than he ever conceived as necessary. Finally the fleet subdivided, but not before another volley of blaster fire from the Terrans took seven more warships from superluminal. When the order was finally given and the fleet broke up Grand Admiral Khandar felt more than relief: he felt a sense of satisfaction. As the Alliance warships dispersed he crossed his lanky limbs over his chest and congratulated his people. True it was difficult, but they could adapt to the changing situation, even as the Terrans could. Khandar was just beginning to understand how powerful a tool flexibility was. Without it, even considering his initial victory over the Terrans, his fleet was patently doomed. He’d taught the Terrans a powerful lesson at Thermopylae, taking the Terran name for the battle, yet they had persevered. Their change in doctrine suited the new threat of Khandar’s turning movement. They resorted to true guerrilla tactics, forestalling even the destruction of the damaged Alliance ships. As Khandar soon learned the Terrans completely ignored the Alliance ships they knocked out of superluminal. They ordered them under threat of destruction to jettison their superluminal cores, but nothing more. Even after Khandar’s fleet continued on its way, leaving those ships unable to make immediate repairs behind, the Terrans did not backtrack and destroy them. Khandar understood why: they’d accomplished their goal. The Terrans didn’t need to destroy Khandar’s ships; they only needed to disable their superluminal engines. A ship without superluminal capability couldn’t reach Terra for hundreds of years and was consequently useless. Even considering repairs could be made it would string Khandar’s fleet all along the invasion route, weakening his force, and making it easy for the Terrans to pick off the stragglers.

  The Terrans had thought through their defense, and Khandar could appreciate why they had not wasted their warships in a risky frontal assault on their frontier. It was much wiser to trade space for warships until the odds were evened. Still, Khandar smiled with newfound confidence. Squadron sized parcels of ships at superluminal were far more difficult to detect than fleet size signatures. With a little luck they would curtail their losses significantly and meet Alexander’s fleets in the Terran system with a sizable force. It would be a titanic battle he was certain, much as the Chem-Terran confrontation was supposed to be. This time, however, the Terrans could not avoid the engagement. There would be a battle, and it would be on Terra’s doorstep.

  Khandar paced the bridge with satisfaction, feeling better than he had since the victory at Thermopylae. For some time he allowed himself to watch the stars fly by the bridge viewers, looking into the beautiful depths of space wherein the Terran Homeworld was nestled. At flank speed he would be there in less than twenty decurns, and he would win for himself and his people an everlasting name and peace. The thought was soothing and pleasurable. When Admiral S’kreen called his name, he hardly heard it, and only after an urgent claw wrapped about his wrist did he respond.

  “Grand Admiral! The Terrans are attacking the Syraptose and Quotterim Homeworlds!”

  #

  “We are at H-Hour minus one, Admiral. Ambassador, will you and your lieutenant please establish your links?” Alexander asked the Scythians. The Terran strike fleets were one hour from their respective targets, and Alexander wanted a Scythian psionic net connection between both of them before and during the encounter. Theoretically the Syraptose and the Quotterim could have picked up the Terran fleets by now, if they were looking. To reduce that possibility and enhance the fleet’s striking power he had them disperse and approach the Homeworlds on a pre-coordinated multiple axis attack.

  Alexander paced while the Scythian’s set up their link. Nazar sat calmly, and Augesburcke fidgeted. After what seemed an hour a clear hologram of each bridge was transmitted through the Scythian’s from the flagships. Admiral Cathcart and Admiral Sampson appeared and each gave a brief report. Admiral Cathcart had nothing to report from the Syraptose system. There was normal traffic on the ethernet, but no sign of any warship activity, or preparedness. Admiral Sampson on the Quotterim front had a few more problems to deal with. Different squadrons of his strike fleet had been detected and hailed. They responded as merchant convoys diverted from the quarantined Altamira system. An escort had been assigned to them at a point outside the Quotterim system, but that rendezvous was still some thirty minutes away. It was the Admiral’s intention to allow the squadrons to drop out of superluminal as expected and dispatch the escort, hopefully prior to any distress or warning calls.

  Alexander approved the Admiral’s plan, adding, “I don’t think the half an hour will make a great deal of difference, but if you can avoid discovery by all means do so.” Alexander’s party watched with growing anticipation as the Quotterim approached the rendezvous point. They had no way of knowing how large the escort was going to be, and Sampson took no chances. An entire Squadron was assigned to ambush the escort as another full squadron played decoy. As the decoy squadron announced it was shortly to drop out of superluminal the attack squadron did just that, but behind the escort. The Quotterim escort, which turned out to be only a single frigate sized warship, never knew what hit it. Although its shields were up the Wisconsin’s main guns vaporized the unfortunate vessel in a single volley. The resultant conflagration caused a momentary burst of excited transmissions from the Quotterim controllers, but the Wisconsin answered, explaining that one of the freighter’s suffered a massive plasma leak as they brought their superluminal engines off line. The vessel was damaged, but was being tractored in by another freighter. There was a hesitant response, but the controllers did not press the issue; perhaps preferring to believe the most harmless of possible scenarios. At sub light velocities the stricken freighter and the escort were perhaps a full decurn distant, and too far too see in any detail. Moreover, no assistance was requested, so they let it go.

  As soon as the Quotterim scanners ceased their examination of the fictitious convoy both squadrons returned to superluminal for the short sprint to the Quotterim Homeworld.

  The Quotterim were guilty of understandable complacency. They were too distant from the Chem Empire be affected by the Chem Wars of Expansion thirteen thousand years past. Although they had a sizeable fleet the Quotterim empire had experienced nothing remotely like a war for exactly three hundred and seventy-two thousand one hundred and forty-three Terran years and some thirty-nine odd Terran days. Their modern and sizeable fleet was the result of the threat the Chem Wars, but it had never seen action.

  Admiral Sampson’s ruse bought another five minutes. Then all pretense of ethernet discipline in the Quotterim system disappeared. A flurry of urgent orders crackled over the net, voices laced with panic, and the Quotterim Homeworld defense forces came to battle readiness. There was nothing for it.

  The Syraptose had a similar if less militarily demanding history. Still, their response made the Quotterim actions seem absolutely provocative. Within the Syraptose Home system, in the midst of the greatest galactic panic in recorded history the first exploratory hails from the Syraptose controllers to the unidentified advancing fleet did not occur until fifteen minutes pr
ior to the assault. Even then the hails were hesitant. Admiral Cathcart refused to answer. The nervous Syraptose must have assumed that if they ignored the massive bodies of approaching superluminal signatures they would just go away, because they did precisely nothing.

  Their spherical envelopment complete, the two strike fleets dropped out of superluminal at precisely the appointed time.

  Alexander’s party watched the blue and white marble of Mira Prime appear in Admiral Cathcart’s bridge viewers. It was an Earth-like world of oceans and small landmasses. It was also almost completely unprotected. This was not due to a lack of ships. The Syraptose had held back over two hundred warships from the Terran invasion, but the fleet was in orbit, powered down and helpless. The disbelieving Syraptose had not progressed far enough through their amazingly complex bureaucracy to put their fleet on alert. The initial warning, issued almost an hour prior, had yet to make it to the shift commander in charge of system surveillance.

  The hail of Terran blaster projectors awoke the fleet. Fifty Syraptose warships broke into glowing debris in the first bombardment. The only return fire the Terrans experienced was a frantic deluge of surrender calls on their ethernet. These calls were met by a demand for the surrender of Mira Prime itself. Admiral Cathcart shortly accepted the surrender of the Syraptose ships, and the Terran Fifth Fleet pulled close around the planet. Mercifully the Terrans held their fire, but after five minutes with no response from the Syraptose Admiral Cathcart implemented the next scale of the assault. He ordered the immediate bombardment of the surface. The battleships rolled in, targeting the planetary defense generators as the cruisers and destroyers targeted the defense blaster projectors. There was a smattering of fire from the planet’s surface, but within fifteen minutes the concentrated fire of the battleships the planetary shields were glowing. What the Syraptose bureaucracy could not do the concussion of the powerful Terran blasters accomplished. The Syraptose Kolghat herself appeared on all Syraptose ethernet channels requesting an immediate cease fire.

  Alexander saw the Kolghat on the Iowa’s viewer, and the Syraptose leader could clearly see the hologram of the Terran Overlord in his purple and gold armored uniform, the ever present Banthror sash clashing barbarically. Alexander told her sternly, “There will be no cease fire, Madame Kolghat. Our bombardment will continue until Syraptose forces in Terran space lower their shields and reverse their course, or your planet is an uninhabitable lump of slag. It is entirely up to you. Send the order, and I will be willing to talk.”

  The reverb of the fluctuating shields in the Syraptose atmosphere could clearly be heard beyond the office of the Kolghat. She hesitated.

  “You try my patience!” Alexander told her, his arms crossed over his breast. “I am inclined to be reasonable, but that time is swiftly passing. Your defense fleet has surrendered; your planetary defense network is under unceasing bombardment. Your shields are collapsing. What is your answer?”

  An enormous eruption from the planet’s surface signaled the complete failure of the hemispheric defense shields of the capital. The generators vaporized in the blaster streams, and they spewed plasma and superheated gas into the atmosphere around the city. The Kolghat’s resolve disappeared.

  “I shall give the order presently!” She assured Alexander.

  “Do it!” Alexander ordered.

  The Kolghat drew herself up. “This is the Kolghat of Syraptose, speaking to all Syraptose military forces involved with Alliance operations against the Terran Empire. At the peril of your Homeworld’s destruction at the hands of Terran invaders you are to drop your shields and reverse your course immediately! This is the Kolghat of Syraptose. I have spoken.”

  The Terran Overlord waited until Admiral Augesburcke relayed confirmation of the Kolghat’s order from the Terran-Syraptose frontier.

  “Captain Batu of the Leopard reports the Syraptose signatures have reversed course and are proceeding at flank speed back to Syraptose.”

  Alexander nodded. “A cease fire is granted, Madame Kolghat. Your planet will not be further violated, but you are not to raise your planetary shields or in any way molest the Terran expeditionary force. Your ships presently in Terran space I will graciously consider under quarantine. They will proceed presently to the Terran-Chem frontier where they will be taken under the custody of a neutral power: the Chem. Admiral Augesburcke will supply you with the proper coordinates for their withdrawal, to include their routing through Terran space. Any deviation from this agreement will be considered reason enough for Terran warships to conclude the bombardment of Mira Prime. You are to subscribe in word and deed to the orders of Admiral Cathcart. Do you understand?”

  “I have no choice, Alexander of Terra,” the Kolghat told him venomously.

  “I asked if you understood,” Alexander corrected her.

  “I understand, Alexander of Terra,” she replied.

  “I do not expect you to like it, Madame Kolghat,” Alexander told her, “but for the time being it is a necessary evil. I will be in touch shortly. Live now by my agreement, Madame Kolghat and the Syraptose people will suffer no further violation by my hand. Alexander out.” Alexander had Cathcart cut the connection to Syraptose because, honestly, he was too busy watching the more intense situation on the Quotterim front.

  “Lock down the situation, Admiral Cathcart. Do it with reasonable force, if you can, but keep them down and don’t let them up!”

  “Everything is under control here, Alexander,” Cathcart told him, and he asked, “I can spare half my force immediately, shall I deploy them back to Terra?”

  “Give the situation time to solidify and see if any surprises develop,” Alexander ordered. “If you are comfortable with relinquishing those ships then get them on their way.”

  “Yes sir, I’ll await your next transmission. Hail Alexander!”

  “Hail the Fifth Fleet, Admiral Cathcart!” Alexander saluted, and then he immediately turned his attention to the Quotterim attack. The Terran Second Fleet dropped out of superluminal in the face of furious fire from two hundred and fifty warships of the Quotterim defense force. Adding to this fusillade was fire from the Quotterim Homeworld and orbiting battle stations. The scrap turned into a full scale battle in a matter of moments, but if the Terrans were disturbed by this they didn’t show it. The Terran squadrons blew in from all directions, guns thundering first at Quotterim ships, then at satellites, then at the planet’s surface. As was their habit the Terran ships kept moving, and Quotterim fire, determined though it was, suffered from the confusion.

  Quotterim commanders were heard on the ethernet desperately trying to direct fire and defense. But as they engaged a passing Terran squadron, exchanging volleys of blaster fire, another would come upon them from a completely different direction. The Terran warships kept up a steady fire, but they never seemed to get in each other’s way. Rather the opposite. The Quotterim, fighting a stationary defensive strategy, could not isolate even a single Terran squadron. They moved too quickly, and when one was firing broadsides for the attack there were always two other squadrons ready to assume firing position; continuing the attack and covering the withdrawal of their partners. The battle plan was a three dimensional “Alexander’s Wheel” centered on the point defense of Quotterim. It was, as was the original, based upon simple maneuvers in squadron strength timed to always keep several squadrons in firing position. Within the constraint of the strategies timing there was freedom within the squadrons for targets, and to some extent, freedom of maneuver. Little change was needed, however, as the Quotterim, who limited themselves to their manner of defense, could not come up with a viable response.

  Outgunned and outmaneuvered the Quotterim lost half their fleet in the first two hours of the attack whilst the Terran fleet lost two dozen ships. As the Quotterim’s firepower decreased without an appreciable loss of Terran strength the defenders losses started to increase at an exponential rate. The orbital battle stations were knocked out, and every Quotterim ship larger than a friga
te was destroyed or severely damaged. Valiant and stalwart though their stand was the Quotterim could see the inevitable. After three hours of battle the Qu’neel of the Quotterim requested a cease fire. Alexander repeated his conditions, to which the Qu’neel conceded, recalling her fleet.

  CHAPTER 28

  “The nefarious traitors, Grand Admiral it is my considered opinion that every Syraptose, Quotterim and Bael ambassador, military member or civilian in our systems should be executed at once for treason!” Admiral S’kreen railed. The small reptilian commander raked her sharp claws across the dull surface of the conference table, leaving noticeable furrows. Her whip like tail lashed back and forth in obvious consternation, and the dark pupils darted back and forth between the nervous representatives of the two defeated empires and their confederate.

  “I object to being included in such company,” the Bael returned, shooting to his feet. His gangly two meter frame ratcheted up out of the seat, chitin covered appendages clicking in irritation. The bright black eyes betrayed no emotion, but the flailing of his wispy antennae accentuated the audible anger of the being and punctuated its artificial voice. The voice was sharp and mechanical, mirroring in every way the insect like movements. “You speak with great facility, Admiral S’kreen, for one with such a massive fleet. Might I remind you that the Bael contingent to the Quotterim invasion numbers less than two hundred vessels. A fine invasion that would be, two hundred against the fleets of Alexander! Would the Seer’koh press on with their attack once deserted by the bulk of their strike force? Would the Golkos? I think not!”

  “Would the Seer’koh press on with the invasion with Alexander’s fleets in orbit around their Homeworld, ready to pound their civilization into dust?” Admiral Chenn of the Syraptose was flustered and turning red to match his uniform. “What choice did we have but to accede to Alexander’s demands? None! I tell you neither the Golkos or the Seer’koh would have reacted any differently!”