Alexander Galaxus: The Complete Alexander Galaxus Trilogy

by Christopher L. Anderson

  Admiral Jekruul bowed her head sharply at the unnecessary reminder, assuring her commander, “You shall have all of our efforts Grand Admiral!”

  “I expect no less,” he told her, “now what is your situation?”

  Jekruul snapped to rigid attention and reported, “Terran shields are still holding, Grand Admiral, but we are concentrating our firepower on a single shield generator on the lesser continent in the northern hemisphere of the planet. There we see the highest concentrations of industrialization on the planet, but the Terrans have for some reason not concentrated their shielding there. The shield generators blanket the planet homogenously, and therefore this area is relatively weakly protected. We expect to penetrate the shielding in one half of a decand. Fully one third of the planet’s most advanced industrialized areas will then be at risk.”

  “That is a logical strategy, Admiral, you may continue with your attacks. What are your losses thus far?” Khandar asked.

  “Fifty-seven warships, thus far Grand Admiral, of which six are battleships,” Admiral Jekruul answered.

  “At your current attrition will you meet your projections against the Terran shields?” Khandar asked.

  “No, Grand Admiral,” she answered truthfully. “Excuse me, Grand Admiral; elements of the Terran Seventh Fleet are now engaging my squadrons!”

  Khandar punched in Jekruul’s bridge viewer just in time to see a Terran battleship spiral down beside Jekruul’s flagship Lur-Shenur. The Terran was amazingly adept for its bulk. Like a playful leviathan it set its sight on the Golkos battleship and proceeded to barrel roll towards her prey, all the while training all nine of her huge forward guns on the bridge of the Lur-Shenur. Upon completing her roll the Terran battleship unleashed a full volley on Jekruul’s ship.

  Jekruul grasped the arms of her seat as her ship rolled under the concussion. The Lur-Shenur returned only sporadic fire from her main batteries, most of her effort already being spent on the Terran shields below. Jekruul braced for the inevitable volley from the rear turrets of the Terran battleship but as she passed, the name Rodney emblazoned on the fantail, she was relieved to see the Terran had no aft turret. All of her firepower was concentrated on the fore of her deck.

  “An interesting if rather ungainly configuration,” Jekruul noted as the Rodney performed another barrel roll and sailed off to recharge her capacitors. Turning back to Khandar she straightened and said, “We now have elements of the Terran Fleet to deal with. You see my situation, Grand Admiral. We will succeed, I assure you, but it will take time.”

  “Time is a luxury we cannot afford, Admiral Jekruul. Dire actions are required.”

  “I understand, Grand Admiral,” she replied soberly, and then she saluted. “Glory to Golkos! Glory to the Empire!”

  Khandar paced away from his chair, noting that another battleship squadron was slicing through the Golkos formation, spraying fire and destruction. The Grand Admiral watched impassively as the huge Terran battleship floated lazily through his formation trading bright volleys of lethal fire. As he gazed with professional interest at the strange ship Admiral Moltor approached him. The Grand Admiral nodded absently, signaling that it was alright for Moltor to report.

  “Grand Admiral, we have just received word that Admiral Jekruul has transferred her flag to the light cruiser Muwoc. However, her former flagship has suffered only minimal damage.”

  “An interesting decision,” Khandar acknowledged. “Put the Muwoc on the main viewers!” This was done, and the rusted shark appeared in the center of the bridge viewers. She left the security of her fleet and drifted down towards the planet, shining against the darkness of the Eastern Seaboard. Her slender bulk gleamed like an orange sliver against the nighttime backdrop that was Terra, but just as swiftly her silhouette cut a dense hole in the swaths of colored plasma which splashed off the planetary defense screens. Her shields glowed now red, now gold from the impacts. Hulks and debris drifted by her, victims of the stalwart Terran defense, but she floated lower and lower towards the surface, unconcerned.

  Moltor listened with agitation to a report from his First Officer, and without wait reported it to Khandar. “Grand Admiral the Muwoc’s superluminal engines are coming to power!”

  “That would be the way,” Khandar mused, and they all watched the Muwoc’s nose dip towards the planet’s surface. It was almost gentle, the great ship’s fall, and in so being it escaped the notice of the planetary batteries who thought it just another stricken ship. The Muwoc continued her final descent, and fifty miles from the planet’s surface she came in contact with the shields. She stopped at the unseen barrier, but even the bridge viewer could pick up the struggle that now took place. The Muwoc did not skip from the barrier as did the other hulks; she buried her nose in the energy screen and tried to muscle her way through. Slowly she made headway, her own shields glaring a ruddy gold in their effort. The “Muwoc” shuddered visibly, far beyond the capacity for her inertial dampeners to overcome, and she hung there for a long terrible moment. Finally a blinding red beam stabbed up through the clouds, searching for the “Muwoc.” In the blink of an eye the Golkos warship shot through and disappeared into the mists, leaving the Terran projector fire quivering like a rapier which overshot its mark, conscious of the fatal implications of its misstep. A ruddy glow erupted underneath the cloud cover, and the shock wave was shortly visible, radiating outwards ever so slowly from the epicenter of the explosion. A deadly stillness followed.

  The entirety of the Golkos fleet watched the cataclysm unfold, and in the end the silence was broken by a single report by a simple sub-lieutenant: “Sir, the Terran shield in the northern subcontinent is down.”

  Grand Admiral Khandar smiled. “Now let Alexander comes to me! Put me on an open channel, Moltor. Let Alexander know where I am. To all Golkos warships, this is your Grand Admiral; victory stands a quiver before us. All ships concentrate their firepower on the exposed Terran subcontinent! Commence the destruction of the Terran Homeworld!”

  The stars wheeled sharply, and the planet swam into view. The main viewer of every Golkos warship showed the same target, and in each the same sight could be seen: Golkos warships already in orbit pouring fire onto the unshielded hemisphere of the Terran Homeworld.

  #

  “Alexander! The shield generator on the North American continent has been destroyed!” Augesburcke exclaimed. The resultant scowl from the Overlord of the Terran Empire demanded embellishment. The blood drained from Augesburcke’s now white face as he told him, “A Golkos cruiser made a suicide attack through the planetary shields. The gunners didn’t realize it was a calculated attack until too late. The entire North American continent is unshielded!”

  Alexander scowled, but his hesitation lasted only as long as it took to punch his fleet wide communications switch. “This is Alexander to the Terran fleet. All ships are to immediately engage and destroy the Golkos warships in orbit around Terra!” Then he turned to Augesburcke. “Admiral, I want every ship that can fire a blaster on those Golkos ships. We’ve got twelve hours before the Second Fleet arrives, and we cannot wait while the Golkos pound Terran cities to dust. We’ll bleed them dry, even if we’re not around to witness Admiral Cathcart’s annihilation of the remainder of the Golkos fleet!”

  Augesburcke recognized the fever in his Overlord, but he nonetheless approached his command chair with firm resolve. Alexander’s eyes narrowed, daring his most trusted military advisor to talk him out of his course of action. The Australian would not be dissuaded.

  “Alexander, as second in command of all Terran forces it is my duty to request you to transfer your flag. This assault will almost assuredly result in the destruction of the greater part of the Seventh Fleet. Cathcart will be here in under twelve hours. It is my duty to hold the Golkos at bay until that time. I have the heavy cruiser Astoria standing by. Transfer your flag, Alexander, and lead the counter-attack yourself when Cathcart arrives. Allow Terra the benefit of your leadership in our final victory.”
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  Nazar stepped up to his brother-in-law.

  “Alexander, listen to what your Admiral is saying, it is not necessary for you to die a warrior’s death now,” Nazar added soberly. “Were the death of the Terran race imminent then you should fall with your people, but you have seen to your final victory. The Terra which survives this war will need the guidance of Alexander, not the martyr.”

  Alexander stewed on their words, staring off into space as if his mind wrestled with itself between what was logical and prudent, and what his instincts felt. At length he raised his arm, motioning the spherical metal probe to his seat.

  When the probe arrived he told the Communications Officer to open all channels and allow all transmissions to leave the Iowa unsecured.

  “That’ll highlight us quicker than a neon sign in the middle of the Outback,” Augesburcke reminded his Overlord.

  “Exactly Admiral, thus far we’ve had no luck finding the Nived-Sheur. Maybe Khandar will have better luck finding us.”

  The probe floated speedily to him and Alexander told it, “I relieve you of your programming constraints. You may delete all censorship requirements. I want these hours to pass unhindered to the galaxy. Terra stands at a precipice. We have assured our final victory, as the remnants of the Golkos invasion fleet cannot hope to escape annihilation from my approaching Second and Fifth Fleets. Yet the Golkos are here in strength to threaten Terra. Let our resolve be a lesson to any who threaten Terra or her peaceful neighbors. We did not ask for war, but war was nonetheless brought upon us. We shall finish it, regardless of the personal consequences. Now be silent and witness the battle for the rights of Terran space, and the future of the galaxy!”

  Alexander rose from his chair, and with Augesburcke and Nazar in tow studied the tactical hologram. “We can no longer afford our hit and run fight. This must now end. The key is Khandar. If we can find him we can end this.”

  Captain Thomas interrupted him, “Overlord! Grand Admiral Khandar just gave the order for all Golkos ships to enter bombardment orbit. The order came over an open channel. We have the location of his flagship the Nived Sheur!”

  A single battleship in the hologram obediently glowed red not two thousand meters from the Iowa.

  “There you are Darius and right next door too! We’ve been trading punches all along and never knew it! Gentleman let’s strike the head off this snake! The Enterprise and her dreadnoughts are to join on the Iowa and the Bismarck squadrons and strike at the Nived Sheur. It is time to pull alongside their flagship for the final confrontation. The Big E shall lead all remaining squadrons in an immediate attack on all enemy warships in Terran orbit. Is that understood?”

  “Yes, Alexander,” Augesburcke nodded, adding, “we’ll make this one for the history books!”

  “We’re not done yet, Admiral,” Alexander growled, “When the last Golkos ship perishes in flames we shall still be standing, I swear it!”

  Augesburcke took the eyes of his Overlord. “What shall I tell the Astoria?”

  Alexander sighed, “Pull us back a bit, Admiral, and tell her to come alongside.”

  #

  “Grand Admiral, three Terran squadrons are closing on the Nived Sheur! The heavy battleship reserve is joining on Alexander’s flagship!” Admiral Moltor reported.

  “Just as he promised! Finally Alexander himself comes to me!” Khandar exclaimed, turning sharply from the main communications board. He’d just watched Alexander’s broadcast to his fleet, and now he seethed with anticipation for the programmed Terran response. His eyes glowed with the realization that the initiative was now his. Khandar, not Alexander dictated the battle. The Terran Overlord was now forced to throw himself at the strength of the Golkos fleet, and Khandar was determined to hold the advantage until it should end the Terran’s fantastic career. He settled comfortably, confidently, into his seat. His brows knit with pent up excitement he had to fight to control his glee. Forcefully, but without hurry, he ordered, “Allow him to close unhindered, then close the trap about them! How many ships have they?”

  “There are only forty-three warships including the Iowa, Alexander’s flagship, Grand Admiral. However, over half their number are battleships or heavy-battleships. Our count is three standard battleships, nine heavy cruisers, assorted destroyers and frigates, and twenty-two Terran heavy-battleships,” Moltor said. “We cannot equal the firepower of his capital ships, Grand Admiral, even with our advantage in support vessels. We must divert at least some of the attack force to defend the flagship, or we face swift annihilation!”

  “Very well, Moltor,” Khandar relented. “Have the Kundoor, Har-took, Plom, Jernak and Gerod squadrons rejoin on the Nived Sheur. All other squadrons assume bombardment orbits.”

  “The bulk of our covering force is already entering orbit, Grand Admiral. The remainder of the Terran fleet is engaging our orbiting warships even as we speak. They are engaging ship-to-ship, Grand Admiral, and foregoing their usual maneuvering. Although our bombardment squadrons have taken heavy losses we still retain a two-to-one advantage.”

  “We have them!” Khandar nodded, settling further back into his chair. In short order two distinct battles developed. One hundred and twenty kilometers above the planet the Golkos and Terran fleets fought toe-to-toe amidst blaster streams from the planet and the nuclear detonations of mines and torpedoes. Fifty kilometers above them the Nived Sheur prepared to face the Iowa. The “Enterprise” and her dreadnought hammers rushed to the aid of their Overlord while a halo of Golkos battleships likewise sped to the aid of the Grand Admiral.

  Khandar strode to the main viewer, relishing the slow but steady approach of the mighty Iowa. The Terran battleship hesitated initially, and Khandar almost asked aloud what Alexander could be thinking. Then the heavy cruiser beside the Iowa shuddered with a direct hit. She veered off and a Golkos battleship shouldered its way between the two Terrans. The Iowa and her cruiser let go broadsides at point blank range, bracketing the interloper. The bold, but aged battleship, gave in. Her shields imploded and she went up in a blinding flash of light. The Iowa’s shields glowed under the firestorm, but they held. The shields of the cruiser flickered, and jets of flame penetrated. The cruiser stayed intact, but ran drunkenly away from the fight with two thirds of her superstructure burned away. Khandar simply shrugged. The Iowa shook off the sting and seemed to find her resolve again. She set her course for the Nived Sheur.

  The Grand Admiral showed none of the tension which gripped the bridge crew as they watched the enormous Terran flagship pulled ever closer. The Iowa held her fire as well, as if realizing that this was the final decisive battle, and wishing to wait until the highest pitch of drama could be reached. Around the two ships battle was already joined, and Terran and Golkos warships traded deadly volleys from their blaster projectors at point-blank range. The violence of the light show was as incredible as it was chaotic, but nothing disturbed the two behemoths. They sought each other out as two champion fighters, resolved that one and only one should remain standing.

  The agitation of the bridge crew was palpable as the broadside cameras revealed the Terran monstrosity appearing alongside, the impossibly huge barrels of the guns pointing directly at them. Closer and closer they came, and every member of the bridge crew knew with a certainty that no shields could repel firepower of that magnitude at such close range. Still they closed; the black holes of the muzzles were no longer objects of fascination; they were pits from which only death could come. So distracted was Khandar and the Nived Sheur that none noted another ship on the point of crossing her bows. Like the Iowa it was a battleship, but upon its decks amidst crimson and black was an enormous Maltese cross surmounted by a bird of prey; the ancient blazon of the Imperial German Navy.

  “Emergency power to the bow shields!” Moltor cried, being the first to ascertain their danger. He rushed to Khandar’s side. Khandar started violently at the Admiral’s warning, immediately recognizing the trap, though too late to prevent it.

  “T
he impudence! To distract me with his own body! What a fool am I to be crossed at the bows! Bloody Hell, Alexander, will you not even give me the honor of dying at your hands!”

  Khandar’s fist spouted blood as he pounded the console, ordering every battery of the Nived Sheur to fire. It was far, far too late. In deadly unison the eight main blaster projectors of the Bismarck bloomed along with each of her secondary batteries along her port flank. The Nived Sheur’s visual screens dimmed in the face of such energy, but they revealed enough to make veterans cringe behind their boards. A brave destroyer Captain saw the danger to his flagship and dove his vessel in the face of the “Bismarck’s” fury. The small warship lost its shields instantly in the cataclysm. The stunned crew of the Nived Sheur watched the destroyer vaporize, and the battleship projector beams pass through unhindered. The projector fire overwhelmed the bow shields of the battleship. They buckled, allowing washes of unfettered energy to score and burn the conical prow to a blunted stump. The flagship lurched as if she’d struck a reef, and the groaning of tritium plates reverberated along the length of the hull. The bridge was in a maelstrom of sound and motion, and for a moment it seemed as if the very ship would come apart. Galactic warships were designed to withstand bombardment, but the Bismarck crossed the Golkos bows by scarcely a three hundred meters before she opened up.

  “Fire damn you! Fire all batteries!” Khandar roared as he clutched bridge rail.

  The Fire Control Officer stabbed at his board, but his eyes registered only the mighty guns of the Iowa as they finally flowered. The Nived Sheur responded just as the raging torrent reached the Golkos shields. The Fire Control Officer’s board erupted in his face. Blue bolts of plasma writhed up his arms and clutched at his chest, and then he disappeared in an exploding cloud which consumed a full span of the Nived Sheur’s weapons board. His corpse, still burning, cartwheeled from the cloud as the Nived Sheur’s gravitational generators failed. Khandar watched the board disappear, mouth agape. The visiplate image of the Iowa’s broadside hung in the smoke for an instant like an apparition. Then the battleship melted from sight in a flash of heat and light. A blinding arc of flame opened a crack along the bulkhead, hypnotically drawing Khandar’s eyes to the wound. The crack widened and suddenly there was a rush of molten wind and a flash of blinding light. A moment in time disappeared, and Khandar saw the bridge from afar. Like an egg cracked in a tumult and then cast into the flames. The bridge was a mausoleum, shaken to distraction by the tremors of the Underworld and then loosed into the cold tomb of space. When his sight returned he found himself standing amidst the wreckage frozen on the bridge, looking amidst the horror for some sign of life. After what seemed an eternity a hint of motion caught his eye, and he looked up. Through the soft focus of the bridge’s emergency force field Khandar watched the silver belly of the Bismarck blotting out the stars.