Alexander Galaxus: The Complete Alexander Galaxus Trilogy

by Christopher L. Anderson

  “We would not have surrendered our Homeworld without a shot!” Admiral S’kreen hissed. “But you were always the cowards. From the first you have withheld your support from our cause and counseled diplomacy over courage. Bah! You fill me with bile! I cannot stand the lot of you!”

  “Admiral S’kreen, the Quotterim lost nearly eighty percent of our defense force before we were forced to surrender,” Admiral Senn’tyr of the Quotterim Admiralty reminded the reptilian commander. “Even the Syraptose, whom you so easily lambaste with your criticism, did not surrender to Alexander until fifty percent of their ships were irrevocably damaged and their planetary defenses were breached. They can perhaps be blamed for disbelief at such an audacious attack, but cowardice? When they admitted to surrender the Capital of Mira Prime lay without shields, helpless against the mighty Terran fleet. Despite your scorn neither of our peoples is without courage, we are simply overmatched and outwitted. What would you have done if a Terran fleet appeared without warning in orbit about Seer? Would you have sacrificed more of your people and vessels than the Quotterim? Would you have defied Alexander after your planet was completely helpless under the projectors of his fleet like the Syraptose? How much courage does one need to invite death without even the possibility of answering their fire? I reiterate what my colleague from Bael stated: you speak with great facility, but without the benefit of empathy. When Alexander’s fleets enter orbit about Seer then we shall see how far you go to save your civilization!”

  Admiral S’kreen was about to launch another attack when the firm hand of Grand Admiral Khandar rose to stop her. The Grand Admiral’s eyes glowed softly with reflection, and his bearing was rigidly military. Soberly he told the assembled commanders, “This debate has no purpose, so let us put an end to it. Alexander’s strategy was unfortunately a surprise to us all. For that I must shoulder a large part of the blame. I did not count on the boldness of Alexander, though on reflection I should have. We’ve seen this elaborately covert turning movement used on the Chem. I am solely to blame for not learning from it. Enough bickering about blame then, we have enough operational necessities to concern ourselves over. The matter of the moment is reality, my fellow commanders, and that reality is plain. Under Alexander’s surrender terms the Quotterim and the Syraptose have politically and militarily withdrawn and renounced all ties to the Alliance. Therefore, I must respectfully ask the contingents of those empires to withdrawn from this meeting, and from further discussions with Alliance personnel. As we are still engaged in a military operation against the Terran Empire I must ask you to leave the Alliance fleet immediately. Transportation has already been arranged.”

  “And where are we to go?” The Syraptose asked nervously, pointing out, “We are in the middle of hostile Terran space, and without warships of our empires. Certainly no harm can come of quarantining our contingents, if that is what you consider as necessary.”

  “Unfortunately, Admiral, the terms of surrender included a provision to transmit all available Alliance military data to the Terrans. To that condition both Quotterim and Syraptose governments agreed. This unfortunately ties my hands. I cannot allow you to remain on board my vessels. You therefore have the choice of remaining on board and being executed as spies, or taking the shuttle provided and withdrawing from the conflict. If you take my advice you will proceed to the coordinates on the Terran-Chem frontier where your respective fleets are being interned by the Chem. As a neutral and honorable folk you can expect just treatment from them.”

  “Once again we are left with little choice,” Admiral Senn’tyr observed, standing with an expression of resignation clouding her fine features. “I assume this decision is immediate in its effect?”

  “It is, an escort awaits you outside the doors of this chamber,” Grand Admiral Khandar informed her stonily. “They shall assist you as directed, which ever course of action you decide on.”

  “I am certain they shall,” the Quotterim said.

  “Needless to say we shall choose exile to our own forces,” the Syraptose told Khandar. He stood, making it plain that the only goal he now had was to quit the Golkos ship as quickly as he could. Khandar nodded, and the doors opened. Outside in the hall was an armed contingent of Golkos warriors. Without another word the Syraptose scurried out of the room. The Quotterim Admiral rose with great consideration.

  “I regret only that the present action is necessary in your mind, Grand Admiral Khandar,” she told him with gravity. “The Quotterim, in my opinion at least, fought well against the Terrans. We were adamantly set upon supporting our part of this Galactic responsibility despite our doubts. That this calamity has forced us to divert our course is unfortunate, but it is not treasonous. I hope it will be remembered that Quotterim died fighting the Terrans, not running from them.”

  “From the Terran communiqués I’ve perused I hold the professional opinion that your people fought quite well, Admiral,” Khandar told her evenly. “Considering our history with Alexander’s fleets I consider that high praise indeed. Believe me when I tell you that this required action is personally regrettable.”

  The Quotterim nodded, bowing, “It has been an honor, Grand Admiral.”

  Khandar simply nodded, and watched the Quotterim leave the chamber followed by the Bael.

  A stern troop of Golkos led the representatives of the defeated Alliance states down the corridor. The head of the Syraptose contingent asked the sergeant of the guard where they were going. His voice betrayed his anxiety, and made it apparent that he thought the Golkos more than likely to betray them to some terrible end.

  The Golkos locked his eyes impassively on the Syraptose Admiral, seeming neither antagonistic or friendly. Her voice was respectful, however, as she informed the Syraptose that her orders were simply to escort the representatives to the shuttle bay, where they would disembark the Alliance warship. The explanation seemed to soothe the jangled nerves of the Syraptose, and in a few moments, as if to confirm the Golkos’s statement the airlock to the hanger became visible. The Quotterim displayed no emotion, simply following their comrades in defeat silently; a stark contrast to the noticeable Syraptose agitation. When they reached the airlock a large shuttle was plainly visible through the bay window. The Golkos escort halted at the airlock doors, the sergeant punching in the access code. As the doors opened the Syraptose fairly flew into the bay, making straight for the shuttle. The other representatives followed at a more dignified pace. The Quotterim came last in measured certain steps, not taking any note that the Golkos failed to join them.

  As she passed the commander of the guard, Admiral Senn’tyr said, “Thank you for your service, Sergeant and good fortune in your continuing endeavors. May the Golkos not meet the same fate as my people.”

  The Sergeant saluted, “Have a pleasant trip Admiral.”

  The Sergeant’s response almost reassured Admiral Senn’tyr that the Golkos might not, after all, execute them. That reassurance faded as she heard the airlock door close behind them. She smiled to herself, resigned to the knowledge that this ending was nearly assured from the moment she received the ethernet from her government. Ah well, she thought, looking about the hanger, empty of everything but the shuttle, the other Alliance representatives and the Quotterim; this was certainly more desirable than the blaster squads used against the Terrans! She glanced at her party, each looking to her for guidance. Admiral Senn’tyr smiled, and pointed at the Syraptose. The larger beings reached the shuttle only to find its doors closed to them. Their relief disappeared in newfound fear, and they pounded upon the vehicle’s smooth skin, crying out in anger and frustration.

  “You see the Syraptose have finally discovered what we knew for certain,” she told her colleagues. “So much the stranger that they, who are so much less trusting and less stalwart than ourselves, have probably not foreseen this eventuality or done anything whatsoever to prepare themselves for the inevitable. Unfortunately, it is too late for preparation now!” As she spoke a red light flashed in the ba
y, and a siren warbled. The Syraptose looked wildly about them, uncertain as to what was happening. When they heard the locks to the hanger doors unlatch they rushed to the hanger window, pounding on the transparency and calling out that a mistake had been made, they were not yet in their shuttle! Admiral Senn’tyr shook her delicate head as she linked arms with her colleagues.

  “Denial to the last!”

  A rumbling roar drowned filled the hanger, and the hungry winds reached for the beings, dragging them to the far end of the bay where the velvet darkness of the star field beckoned like a waiting maw. The Syraptose were caught up like leaves in a storm, fluttering in the currents this way and that, their cries drowned in the winds and then silenced by the vacuum. The Quotterim quit the flagship in a tiny knot of sentience, quite alone in the universe.

  Admiral Khandar clicked off his secondary viewer and without a word about what had just happened addressed the council. “I must shortly communicate with Pro Consul Mavek our intentions, and our advice. My preliminary intelligence is that the political factions of the Alliance, including the Golkos and the Seer’koh favor an immediate withdrawal from Terran space into a defensive posture about our Homeworlds. This is, of course, exactly what Alexander wants. We shall be completely divided and Alexander will be spared the difficulties of dealing with our combined strength. He shall henceforth pick us off, one by one, with a fight or without one. It is a scenario I can in no way condone. Militarily it is ludicrous, but politicians don’t think in those terms, and frankly I cannot expect them to. Politicians react to the populace. At this particular moment the populace, which understood our multiple front invasion somewhat better than our politicians, sees the entirety of our plans collapse. Now they fear, and rightly so, the same fate for our Homeworlds. That is what our political leaders are reacting to, and what we must address. Though this setback is gravely serious it is my personal opinion that our position is not untenable. Our Golkos-Seer’koh squadrons are set to converge upon Terra in nineteen decurns. Alexander’s strike fleets at the Syraptose and Quotterim Homeworlds are hopelessly out of position. They are twenty-two decurns from Terra at flank speed. Our flank attacks by the Syraptose and Quotterim, despite their defeat, have served their purpose. Terra is ours for the taking!”

  “We do not as of yet know what defenses the Terrans have in their home system, however,” Admiral S’kreen reminded Khandar. “Do they have sufficient strength to hold their system until their fleets arrive? This begs another question, put forth to me by my government: do the Terrans intend on redeploying their fleets to Terra at all? While leaving their planet purportedly with little protection the Terrans have sent their fleets into the galaxy on missions of conquest. What is to halt them now? While we claim success in weakening Alexander’s Homeworld defenses has he not done the same to us? We are as vulnerable as Terra to an offensive strike. More so, in fact, as Alexander foresaw the eventuality and we did not. What is to say that Alexander will not send his strike fleets to Golkos and Seer, rather than back to their Homeworld?”

  “You raise the crux of the political argument. The geometry of our forces and those of Alexander aggravate the situation,” Grand Admiral Khandar replied, referring to the holographic battle display. “Although we are only nineteen decurns from Terra we are fully thirty-three decurns at flank from Golkos, and thirty-seven from Seer. The Terran fleets at Syraptose and Quotterim are roughly twenty-one or twenty-three decurns from Terra, and as close as forty-two decurns from Seer and forty-nine decurns from Golkos. The math is simple. We can either reach Terra before the Terrans or we can reach our Homeworlds before the Terrans. We cannot, however, attack Terra and protect our Homeworlds. This is, of course, ignoring the fact that many of our warships cannot sustain flank speed for such an extended period of time. Already we are seeing problems. They are not serious at this point, but I’m afraid our vessels have not put in such strenuous activity in many kicellia. If we lose less than five percent of our forces between here and Terra due to engine problems alone I shall be happy.”

  “As for the Terrans who knows what their ships are capable of,” Admiral S’kreen added.

  “True enough,” Grand Admiral Khandar admitted, and then he glowered at the council. “Beyond all the data lies the true question, however: what is the true level of resolve in this Alliance? Alexander has put his Homeworld at risk in a speculative, but thus far successful offensive. Will we have the same resolve? Alexander turned back the Syraptose and Quotterim strike forces by conquering their Homeworlds. Can we win the surrender of Alexander’s fleets by conquering his Homeworld and possibly capturing him alive? That is the question we must answer.”

  Admiral S’kreen hissed, lashing her tail at the difficulty of the dilemma. Although she was uneasy with her own thoughts as the Grand Admiral’s Lieutenant she felt it her duty to speak first regarding the Admiral’s question. Her voice, though it passed through a mechanical voice box, nevertheless displayed the emotion and stress of the moment. Her eyes roved the table, jumping from one participant to the next, her claws nervously tapping the hard surface of the table.

  “Politician’s crave surety in military matters, knowing full well it is impossible to give. Are Alexander’s fleets returning at their best speed to Terra, or are they now turning their attention to our remaining Homeworlds? There is no acceptable level of surety in any response. We cannot even be sure of the Terran level of defense without those fleets present. Logic tells us they have denuded their defensive capabilities for attack, but what if they have not? We know for certain that they had roughly three hundred ships available in their Seventh Fleet before their defeat at Thermopylae. It is a sizeable force, though I note they have only nine remaining battleships. That is a significant weakness. We must assume, however, that their planetary and system defenses are formidable. It is not out of the realm of possibility, therefore, that they can accomplish an effective temporary defense of Terra with those forces we can reasonably expect to exist. If they can successfully defend their system until their fleets arrive we will be at a great disadvantage.”

  “I see no possibility in that, considering the forces Alexander can have at his disposal,” Khandar replied. “Alexander has shown no tendency towards panic in his career. Aside from that our reports show a mass exodus from their planet. If I read his character correctly Alexander has already sacrificed the battle of Terra in order to win the war of the galaxy. That assumption taken for truth are we then ready to sacrifice our Homeworlds to that end. If in the end we conquer Terra but the act fails to impress Alexander what then? He will definitely conquer Golkos and Seer and our own governments will sue for peace.”

  “And if we raze Terra Alexander will reply in kind,” Admiral S’kreen shuddered.

  The room was silent. Every being envisioned their Homeworld as a smoldering husk. Alexander, his Banthror cloak sparkling with the badges of their empires, touring the remains of their civilization; clouds of ash roiling about his booted feet as he kicked aside debris littered with masonry, furnishings and skulls. The fact that Terra lay in ruins would mean nothing to Alexander. His people would survive to run the vast galactic empire that he built.

  Finally Khandar spread his arms wide. “This is our quandary, my fellow Admirals: for if we cannot resolve these questions firmly in our minds how are we to convince our governments? I believe we must press on with our attack and hold Terra and her resolve hostage. We must answer Alexander’s bold risk with one of equal bravery. Yet I must convince our Pro Consul of such, and she must convince the Alliance counsel. That is a daunting task, especially if I cannot convince all of my commanders of the necessity.”

  If Grand Admiral Khandar hoped for an immediate vote of encouragement he was disappointed. The only answer he got was a brooding silence.

  CHAPTER 29

  Captain Sergei Konstantinov rustled around the cramped bridge of the Gagarin. He’d been restless since the defeat at Thermopylae, making even his previous levels of nervous energy seem tame i
n comparison. Privately his crew wondered which would kill him first, his heart due to excessive adrenaline, or his lungs from the volumes of cigarettes he inhaled. Konstantinov only seemed to become calm when there was something to turn his attention to, so the crew ensured that they reported even the tiniest event. This kept him occupied, and when the Captain was occupied he was not prowling through the boat looking over their shoulders.

  “Captain! I’m receiving a faint distress transmission from the wake of the Alliance signature,” the communications officer reported. Konstantinov leapt to the station before the man finished his report, and urged him to elaborate. The man shrugged, “It is very low power, sir, but it is there. Its location is not keeping pace with the signature. Its falling astern now. I would guess that one of their ships dropped out of superluminal, but I’m not certain. From its power level its obviously not a standard ship transmitter.”

  “Well, put it on man! Put it on!” Konstantinov ordered.

  The communications officer pushed his speaker switch to external and a faint static covered voice said, “. . . We require immediate assistance, please respond. To any Terran vessel: we require immediate assistance, please respond. To any Terran vessel: we require immediate assistance, please respond.”

  “Interesting, it could be a trap, but then we need something to spice up the day. Helmsmen drop out of superluminal! Tactical, scan for their ship!” The Captain ordered, then he turned back to the communications officer and had a channel opened.

  “This is Captain Konstantinov of the Terran warship Gagarin; please identify yourself and the nature of your difficulty.”

  “Captain Konstantinov, this is Admiral Senn’tyr of the conquered Quotterim Empire. I appreciate the unusual nature of this request; however, my staff and I have been marooned in your space by the Golkos. I respectfully request that you take us into custody aboard your vessel.”