Alexander Galaxus: The Complete Alexander Galaxus Trilogy

by Christopher L. Anderson

  “You give me too much credit,” Alexander told her. “I suspected many of the things you’ve said and acted on those suspicions. But who can tell in this universe what will happen next? The rise of Alexander to power is a strange and unlikely enough event in its own right. I will not take his successes for granted.”

  “It does not matter that you do or not,” Nazar told him evenly, “it is the galaxy which understands the destiny of Alexander. Your victories were written long ago.”

  “You take from me the glory of accomplishment,” Alexander said under his breath, grumbling. “I have never believed in pre-ordained fate. If the galaxy believes Alexander will conquer all then that is its concern, not mine. I will not relinquish what victories I gain through my skill or the fortune I make. I accept the universe as it is, with an equal amount of luck and opportunity available to all. I do not see Grand Admiral Khandar as a madman. He is a warlord. A warlord makes his name known through the passion of his art. Victory is what he seeks, and no victory worth histories name is achieved without risk. Does Khandar recognize the risk? Of course he does, but the prize, a victory over Alexander, is well worth the risk. We face a very real threat. Khandar is bold and worthy of his position. This will be a battle well worthy of the history books. There is no surety in my mind who shall triumph. I look forward to it.”

  “As do I, Alexander,” Nazar smiled, his sharp teeth glinting in the sunlight.

  The opening of the screen door brought Admiral Augesburcke into view.

  The Admiral saluted. “Planetary blackout has been initiated, Alexander. The relay beacons have been activated and all squadrons of the Seventh Fleet are at their posts. The Iowa is waiting to take you aboard.”

  “Status of the Fifth and Second Fleets?” Alexander asked, standing and straightening his uniform.

  “Two days and three days respectively,” Augesburcke admitted. “They’ve been at emergency flank for a week now.”

  “They don’t want to miss the fight!” Alexander smiled grimly, and he shrugged. “It is time to go, shall we?” Alexander turned with Nazar and the Admiral, striding through the house and onto the dock. There was no media there, only a long line of soldiery shielding the Overlord and his party from sight. At the end of the dock an enormous platform had been built. Upon it sat Alexander’s shuttle, “Terra One,” a modified 747 with its truncated wings and sash of gold and purple paint. Alexander led the way up the stairs. The door closed. With a hardly to be heard whine the leviathan floated into the air and then with a low growl it disappeared into the afternoon sky. In every window there was a Terran face wondering if perhaps they looked upon their Homeworld for the final time.

  #

  “Our scouts have identified emissions from the Terran Homeworld, Grand Admiral. The coordinates have been disseminated throughout the fleet, and converging courses plotted. We are now in the prescribed position for your spherical envelopment of Terra. We are prepared to drop out of superluminal, Grand Admiral!” Admiral Moltor advised the grim warlord who paced the bridge feverishly.

  “How many squadrons have reached the rendezvous?” Khandar asked.

  “Thirty-one, Grand Admiral; eighty percent of the fleet,” Moltor reported.

  “The remainders of a fleet that should total thirteen hundred ships,” Khandar observed, “but due to the damned ferocity of these Terrans it is now little two thirds that. Blast it! When shall the remainder of the squadrons arrive?”

  “They shall rendezvous within the next half decurn, Grand Admiral. It is a victory in its own right that we have been this accurate. Never have Golkos warriors achieved such precision against such odds.”

  “Then we have much still to learn, Moltor!” Khandar cursed. “Alexander, if you will remember, converged two separate fleets upon Syraptose and Quotterim undetected and simultaneously! After weeks in space they coordinated their attack within moments of each other. I had hoped as much from our own people in this desperate hour. Let us not waste time on our own shortcomings, however. Our latecomers will serve as an active reserve. Broadcast all of our battle orders on an omni-directional beacon. Our reserves are clear to engage as soon as they may. Give the order to power the weapons and drop out of superluminal!” The screens of the Golkos battleship showed the streaking stars slowing to a dead stop. A tiny blue starlike speck rushed out of the background, swelling into a bloated blue and white world of water and mist. Craggy brown continental masses peaked from beneath the swirling clouds. It was a beautiful world, and seemingly helpless to stop the hundreds of lethal warships which now converged upon it.

  “Shields on maximum! Scan for ships! All squadrons prepare to enter bombardment orbits! Report!”

  “Scanning, Grand Admiral,” Moltor replied. A concussion answered Khandar’s question, however, and the main screens showed the flash of weapons fire from a phalanx of the sleek black torpedo shaped Terran scouts which had harried the Golkos for the last two hundred light years. Dozens of them made their presence known immediately, but it was Khandar himself who first sighted the great silver dreadnoughts of Terra as they sped about the blue horn of their planet.

  “There they are!” He cried gleefully, almost drunk with the moment. “I see you Alexander! Now bear the wrath of Khandar and Golkos! Grand fleet of Golkos proceed with the envelopment! Bombardment squadrons enter your bombardment orbits and fire at will! Attack squadrons engage the Terran Fleet. You have your orders!”

  “Confirmed Grand Admiral! It is the remnants of the Terran Seventh Fleet!” Admiral Moltor informed Khandar. “There are two hundred and twenty-five ships of the line, with seven battleships. In addition there are ninety-three scouts.”

  “We have them!” Khandar thundered. “Engage them, Captain. Fire at will!”

  “Grand Admiral we are receiving a hail from the Terran battleship Bismarck

  “Put it on!” Khandar ordered.

  The main viewer suddenly brightened with the unmistakable visage of a Terran Admiral. Silver haired and stern he wasted no time with pleasantries, his menacing bassoon voice growling. “This is Admiral von Richtofen. You are violating Terran space. In the name of galactic peace I give you one opportunity and one opportunity only to power down your weapons and submit to Terran escort. If you refuse I shall destroy you. There will be no further parley, there will be no mercy. Surrender and I shall be magnanimous. Decide as you must. Richtofen, out!”

  “I had hoped to see Alexander at the head of his Homeworld’s defense, Admiral von Richtofen. No matter, I shall root him out presently. This day Khandar shall walk upon the ashes of the Terran Homeworld.” Khandar cut the link and turned to Admiral Moltor. “Concentrate all attacks on the Terran flagship! Commence immediate bombardment of the Terran Homeworld!”

  Even as Khandar gave his final orders the two fleets came into firing range. Despite his numerical advantage almost half of Khandar’s fleet was entering orbit about the planet and ignorant of the Terrans. Khandar’s attacking squadrons were spread out with the intention of providing covering fire for the bombardment squadrons. The Terran fleet, however, hurtled themselves at Khandar’s flagship in a tightly knit formation, concentrating their firepower. As Khandar’s flagship formation met the Terrans their numbers were nearly equal, but the Terrans possessed an advantage in firepower. It was almost a reverse of their previous encounters, but foreseeable because of Khandar’s known objective: Terra.

  The Nived Sheur glowed under the full broadsides of two flanking Terran battleships and their escorts. Khandar returned fire, lighting up the asymmetric shields of the Bismarck like the eerie auroras on Terra. The two fleets mixed for several moments, their formations melding in a confusing array of streaking metal hulks, plasma and blaster discharges. Such was the power of the Terran projectors and the skill of their crews at high velocities that the Seventh got the better of the first engagement, leaving several capital ships damaged and shaken. But as soon as the Terrans broke free of the first concentration of Golkos they found the remainder of the
Golkos attack squadrons closing on them. There was no respite for recharging their weapons or damage control. The Golkos engaged them immediately and with greater effect. The order went throughout the Seventh to break up into their autonomous squadrons.

  The breakup of the Terrans did not make Khandar’s task any easier, but it signaled a small success early in the engagement. The vaunted Terran firepower was now spread out, and with his greater numbers he could hope to defeat them through attrition by maintaining his concentration of force.

  “Excellent!” He exclaimed, congratulating himself prematurely. “Alexander must now attack me incessantly with smaller numbers of ships. I can meet him with firepower enough to destroy him if he maintains his attacks. The battle is nearly won! My bombardment squadrons are even now in orbit. If Alexander cannot concentrate his fleet upon them it is only a matter of time!” Khandar ordered the main viewer centered on the bombardment squadrons. The tiny specks of the four hundred ships swept gracefully across the blue and white expanses, as his attack squadrons engaged the Terran fleet overhead. Khandar watched anxiously for some sign of action, the bloom of blaster fire on planetary shields, the glow of burning cities, even the searing fire of the massive Terran planetary projectors. There was nothing. His attention shifted entirely from the cacophony of the fleet-to-fleet battle to the stillness of the planet. He watched and he watched, but to no effect. There was nothing happening. His fist slammed down in fury on his comm panel.

  “Blast it what is going on down there? Why aren’t you firing!”

  “Grand Admiral we can find no targets,” came the shaky answer from the commander of the bombardment squadrons.

  “Explain!” Khandar demanded.

  “Grand Admiral, our scans show no cities, no industrial complexes, no centers of civilization, nothing! There are no planetary shields, no projectors and no power sources. Our preliminary scans indicate the entire planet is devoid of civilized life!”

  “Impossible! Our position for Terra was estimated, but how could we be led astray? What is the source of the emissions we tracked here?” Khandar asked Admiral Moltor vehemently.

  Moltor went to a board and personally tracked and identified the emission source. It took a long moment, during which Khandar paced like a starving Tyrannosaurus behind his back.

  “Well, what of it?” Khandar seethed.

  “Difficult to tell, Grand Admiral,” Moltor told him. “With the interference of our own defense screens, the emissions of the battle, it is difficult to isolate such a small source of power.” As if to give credence to his problems the Nived Sheur convulsed under the shock of another full broadside. Moltor lost his hold of the board and tumbled over a rail to the decking. Khandar was spun back, crashing spread eagle against the bulkhead. Fire sprang from beneath a panel, immediately followed by the acrid scent of the extinguishers. Khandar felt the sickening sensation of weightlessness for just a moment. It was long enough for him to float off the deck, but then the emergency inertials cut in and he came down with a jarring thump. On the main viewer Khandar watched the majestic form of the Bismarck float by in profile—first the sharp prow of the nose, then the enormous turrets, the black holes of the guns pointing straight through Khandar. Following the big guns there was the menacing superstructure, the rear turrets and finally the graceful stern. Khandar was struck dumb by the vision, for the ship filled the screen. It sauntered by him as if on parade, unconcerned, and indomitable. The image filled Khandar with rage and he roared, “Fire, damn you, fire!”

  The Nived Sheur gunners answered their Grand Admiral’s order, but the blaster fire merely splashed off the Bismarck’s shields; the projectors not being fully charged after their last firing. Khandar leapt down to the helm, personally directing the helmsmen to follow the Bismarck and ordering the entirety of the Attack Squadron to imitate him.

  Fury gripped Khandar so completely that it took Admiral Moltor’s actually laying hands on his person to communicate with him. “Grand Admiral it is a trick!” Moltor kept saying, but it was only after the Captain repeated himself three times that Khandar’s eyes showed some sign of recognition.

  “What is it you’re saying?” Khandar hissed.

  “It is a trick Grand Admiral! The planet below is not Terra! The emissions are coming from a beacon satellite in orbit about the planet. They are obviously artificial.” Moltor told him.

  Khandar struck his forehead with the heal of his hand, “By the stars how stupid of me!” He breathed. Silently he cursed himself, but then he pushed his failure aside and the clearness of his resolve returned to him. “An excellent ruse but let us make Alexander pay for it at the least. Continue to follow and engage the Bismarck with all available forces. Disengage the bombardment squadrons from orbit; have them join in the chase!”

  “As you command, Grand Admiral!” Admiral Moltor replied.

  The order was disseminated throughout the fleet and soon the entirety of Golkos forces were set to converge on the Terran flagship. Khandar walked slowly to his command chair and sat heavily down. He watched the fan tail of the Bismarck slowly recede in the viewer, the glow of Golkos firing glancing harmlessly off her rear shields as the range increased. The Terran ships were tougher, faster and more heavily armed than his proud but ancient Nived Sheur, but he refused to give up the chase. When the Terran fleet regrouped in front of his pursuing ships Khandar knew they would not continue the battle. Their ruse discovered the Terrans called a halt to their mission.

  A final message came to Khandar from the “Bismarck’s” Admiral von Richtofen. He told them, “Consider yourselves warned. I advise you to leave Terran space at this time; if you do not you will never see your homes again!”

  Then the Terrans went to superluminal. Khandar watched them disappear, but still with a soldierly eye. He glanced at Admiral Moltor, but the Golkos shook his head.

  “Each squadron took a different direction, Grand Admiral, there’s no way to tell which, if any, are towards the real Terra,” he said morosely.

  Khandar sighed with resignation, but his orders were clear and determined. He brought together his Admiralty on the comm board. “Send a squadron upon each of the departure tracks we recorded. In addition send a squadron back to this planet for a thorough scanning. Alexander is just bold enough to bring us to his own planet and trick us into believing we’re somewhere else. We shall break up the remainder of the fleet by squadron and begin a systematic search of every habitable system within ten light years of this position. The search is to begin immediately. I need not remind you of the importance in finding Terra swiftly. If today’s skirmish is any indication then it should be apparent to all of us that it is unwise to await the return of the Terran fleets from Syraptose and Quotterim. We have two, maybe three decurns, within which to capture Terra intact. Your maximum efforts are required by me, and by Golkos. Is this understood?” There were stern salutes from Khandar’s subordinates as each signed off. Within moments the Golkos fleet was breaking up again.

  Admiral Moltor approached Khandar, who was gazing into the viewer watching his squadrons disappear. When, after a moment, Khandar noted him the Captain reported, “The damage to the Nived Sheur is not inconsequential but all systems are still operational in either primary, backup, or emergency modes. We can get underway at any moment.”

  “What are the losses to the fleet?” The Grand Admiral asked.

  “Not overly significant, Grand Admiral,” the Captain told him, handing a slim pad to Khandar.

  Khandar perused it without emotion, counting off the ships. “Three battleships destroyed or too heavily damaged to go to superluminal; two heavy cruisers; seventeen frigates and destroyers. Roughly three percent, unless you consider that we used only slightly over half our forces actually attacking the Terrans. Then the numbers look more sobering. Any estimates on Terran losses?”

  “There are at least three Terran vessels observed to have been completely destroyed, and there are seven that are heavily damaged. Those vessels are still
within this system. They have rendezvoused for mutual support. Grand Admiral they cannot withstand the firepower of the flagship squadron should we choose to attack them,” Moltor told Khandar.

  Khandar went over to the tactical hologram. The Terran ships in question had reformed in orbit about the planet. Standing by was a formation of a dozen Terran scouts, providing cover. Studying the display Khandar crossed his arms and said, “This is truly a war for survival. Alexander leaves his stricken ships behind to fend for themselves rather than waste his precious forces in a vain attempt to defend them. Even we have been forced into this. How many ships have we left behind Moltor, three hundred and fifty or so?”

  “Grand Admiral it would be a great victory to boast of to the galaxy and to our people,” Moltor remarked. “You have driven the Terrans from a planet in their space and destroyed their defense force utterly!”

  Khandar glanced at his Vice-Admiral with a hard eye. “There is no victory for us in this Moltor. Alexander gained what he desired: time. That we fought him to a standstill is the best I can make of it, and losing two ships to his one at that. Further along the path of glory I will not go. What fame is there in salvaging this deception by destroying defenseless ships and defenseless beings? I’ve enough blood on my soul as it is, Moltor. Besides, the Terrans take glory in fighting to the death. They rally around it. I’ll not give them any more martyrs. It’s Terra I want, not a few more ships and Terrans! Leave them be, and plot a search course to the nearest habitable system!”