The Star Cross: The Forever War

by Raymond L. Weil

  “Are you taking all the battleships?” Wilson had two assigned to his fleet, and he would like to keep them.

  “No,” Kurt replied. “I’m taking ten, plus the Star Cross, the Aurelia, the Limeira, twenty battlecruisers, and forty Glaymon disk ships.”

  “Plus the Construct One,” Lomatz said as he reached a decision. “It’s the only construction ship I have that can keep up with your fleet.”

  “That system is bound to be heavily defended,” Wilson said, his eyes focusing on Kurt. “You may get in the first strike, but, as soon as they become aware of your presence, every ship the Vorn have in that system will come after you. Not only that, we have no idea how powerfully armed these intergalactic transports are or a Collector ship. No one that I’m aware of has ever engaged one.”

  “There’s a first time for everything,” Kurt said. This had caused him some concern as well. “We estimate it will take us a full month just to reach the system. Once we get there, I’ll spend a day or two scouting it, and then we’ll launch our attack.”

  Admiral Wilson looked thoughtful. “Do the Glaymons know you’re going to attack the staging system? I thought all they wanted was for you to scout it.”

  Kurt looked guilty. “Fleet Captain Waelt and Tasid don’t know what I’m planning. Tasid agreed to send forty of their disk ships under the command of Captain Tolmass on the mission. However, Captain Tolmass does know my intentions. He agrees that we can’t waste this opportunity. If we’re successful, it could be several years before the Vorn renew their harvesting of our galaxy.”

  “We could build a lot of defensive platforms in two years,” Lomatz said thoughtfully. “Enough to make Newton and the other worlds of the Alliance too strongly defended for the Vorn to attack.”

  “Ships as well,” added Wilson. “The risk may be worth it, but this will still be an extremely dangerous mission. If something goes wrong, there won’t be anyone coming to the rescue. You’ll be on your own in intergalactic space.”

  “It’s a chance I’m willing to take.” Kurt’s eyes hardened. “After what the Vorn did to Mars, it’s time for some payback!”

  -

  On Kubitz, Grantz was once more inside a pleasure house, one of his favorites, and one where the guards at the doors checked everyone thoroughly for weapons. Even so, his ever-present bodyguards sat close by, keeping vigilant eyes on him.

  “So, you’re offering me fifty thousand credits if I can locate High Profiteer Creed for you,” said the Profiteer, sitting across from Grantz. “That’s a very tempting offer, though I understand the Humans from Newton are offering ten million credits for his death.”

  “Do you think it’ll be easy to collect?” asked Grantz, taking a long drink from the tankard in front of him. This drink had a smooth taste and only left a mild burning sensation in his throat. “High Profiteer Creed will be surrounded by other Profiteers that he trusts and possibly some of Dacroni Clan Leader Jarls’s mercenaries. Do you have the resources to take on something like that?”

  The Profiteer looked at the table, picking up his tankard and taking a small sip. “No, it’s just too dangerous. Word is being sent out that anyone who attempts to collect that reward will end up dead.”

  “I’ll take the risk,” Grantz said. He had heard the same rumors. “High Profiteer Creed tried to have me killed once already. I plan on returning the favor, only I don’t intend to fail.”

  The Profiteer looked at Grantz and then said, “All I have to do is tell you the next time High Profiteer Creed is on Kubitz, and the fifty thousand credits are mine?”

  “Only if I’m successful in killing Creed,” Grantz replied. “I know you have connections with Toblan, the weapons dealer who Creed likes to deal with. At some point, he’ll contact Toblan and return to Kubitz for either more warships or weapons. When he does, I want to know where he’s staying on Kubitz.”

  “He may not come down,” the Profiteer said, his eyes narrowing. “He could just stay in orbit and conduct his business.”

  That would suit Grantz almost as well, though it would prevent him from delivering High Profiteer Creed’s head to Fleet Admiral Vickers. If Creed stayed on his ship, all Grantz had to do was notify the two Newton battlecruisers now in orbit above the planet. Grantz knew that, once they discovered Creed was on board a ship, they would move to immediately destroy it. In the past that would have been impossible with the defenses Kubitz had, but these two ships were something else, and the leaders of Kubitz, both the government and the Controllers, knew to leave these ships alone, or they would suffer some dire consequences.

  “There is very little risk in it for you,” Grantz persisted. This Profiteer was his best chance of getting a line on High Profiteer Creed.

  “Fifty thousand credits,” the man said slowly. Then he straightened his shoulders. “If my information leads you to Creed, and you succeed in killing him, I want one hundred thousand credits.”

  Grantz eyed the man across the table for a several long moments. He had expected a counteroffer. It was how business was done on Kubitz. “Seventy thousand credits and not a credit more.”

  The Profiteer blinked his eyes and took a long drink from his tankard. “Agreed. Seventy thousand credits if my information leads to Creed’s death.”

  Grantz nodded. Very slowly he was encircling the noose around Creed’s neck. This was not the first informant he had spoken to, but he was the one most likely to get results. Grantz picked up a Homalt egg, which he took a bite of. It was a rare delicacy and hideously expensive. “You may go. Contact me when you have the information I desire.”

  The Profiteer nodded, eyeing the two remaining Homalt eggs on the table. When Grantz did not offer one, the Profiteer turned and left, heading toward one of the heavily guarded exits.

  “You’re playing a dangerous game, my friend,” a man said.

  Grantz looked up, seeing Avery Dolman. Grantz gestured, indicating for Avery to sit. “It’s a risk, but the reward at the end is well worth it.”

  Dolman looked at his two men, making sure they were doing their jobs. Neither acknowledged his presence, but he could tell from the looks in their eyes they had seen him. “You heard about the Vorn attacking Earth?”

  “Yes, Ambassador Brent told me. Vickers drove them off, destroying much of the Vorn fleet. With the advanced ships he has, it wasn’t a surprise.”

  “So, how are you and Brent getting along?”

  “She’s not like Tenner. I haven’t gotten a single gold coin out of her yet.”

  “Probably because you’re spending all your time plotting to kill High Profiteer Creed.”

  “The man had me shot!” Grantz blurted out, his eyes angry. “In all my years as a Profiteer that was the first time anyone actually managed to shoot me.”

  Dolman grinned. “That’s surprising. I’m sure you’ve made a lot of enemies along the way.”

  “Some,” admitted Grantz. “But none who want to kill me. A little bribery or some special trade item always got me out of a jam. Or it did until now.”

  Dolman leaned forward so no one could overhear what he was about to tell Grantz. “Fleet Admiral Vickers believes High Profiteer Creed told the Vorn where to find Earth.”

  Grantz’s eyes widened. “I wouldn’t put it past him.”

  “Vickers also wants you to know that any resources you might need to take Creed out are yours for the asking, including a special strike team of Marines from the embassy.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” This was good to know. If Creed did come to Kubitz, it might take some firepower to reach him. He had seen the Marines in action and knew they could be quite deadly.

  “I firmly believe, if not for the threat of the Vorn, that Vickers would bring his fleet to the Gothan Empire and tear it apart, searching for Creed. I don’t know if Creed realizes how angry the admiral is.”

  “I hope he doesn’t do that,” Grantz said, frowning.

  “Me neither,” Dolman replied. “I like the empire just as it is. Th
ere are a lot of credit-making opportunities.” Dolman sighed. “I’ve always feared that someday someone would come here and put an end to our ways. Vickers has already done that some here on Kubitz. Those two battlecruisers above are a constant reminder to the Kubitz government and the Controllers. This is the first time in years that I can recall the Lylan Enforcers are actually doing their jobs. The streets in the capital are the calmest that I can ever recall. The Enforcers are actually preventing killings and some illegal activity.”

  Grantz grinned. “Only the worst or the vilest. Our day-to-day lives are still much the same.”

  “The slave markets are gone,” pointed out Dolman. “I have to admit I don’t miss them, though there were some excellent credit-making opportunities there too.”

  “I’ve heard they may be rebuilt but on a much smaller scale.” Grantz had never had any use for a slave of any kind, though he knew some of the females who worked in the pleasure houses were routinely purchased from the slave auction markets.

  Dolman stood. “I just wanted to inform you of what Vickers said. Be careful. High Profiteer Creed still has a few friends around.”

  “I’m aware of that,” Grantz said as a scantily clad server placed a Merton steak in front of him.

  Dolman shook his head. “Don’t spend those credits before you get them.”

  Grantz grinned as he cut into the medium-rare steak and took a bite. The Merton steak was one of those rare delicacies that most people could never afford. Grantz allowed himself to indulge on occasion. The gold he currently had in his secret stash was already enough to make him a rich man. “I’m always careful. If you can send a message to Vickers, tell him Creed is as good as dead.”

  “I’ll see he gets your message,” Dolman said and then left, heading toward the main exit.

  Grantz watched Avery leave. In his mind, he was already thinking about how he would spend those ten million credits.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Prince Brollen was in the Vorn staging system, preparing to return to the Conclave Habitat. He had sent most of the fleet on to a distant sector to continue the harvest. He was still aggravated from the setback in the Protector World food system where species 236, 111, and the ancients had shown up. The battle had been brutal, and he had lost nearly six thousand warships plus a large number of irreplaceable motherships. While that still left him a massive fleet, he had decided harvesting that particular food world could wait. The sector around the star system had been harvested except for a few small worlds. Brollen had decided to bypass the isolated planets for now.

  The intergalactic transport is ready for us to dock, reported Military Leader Gallet.

  Do so, ordered Brollen.

  He had received a coded message, indicating Queen Alithe was ready to emerge from the egg chambers to choose her next consort. Time for him to return to the Conclave Habitat and take his rightful place as leader of the Vorn. If all went according to plan, sometime between now and when he arrived at the Vorn System, an accident would occur, and Queen Alithe would die. Of course there would be a time of mourning for the Vorn, as it was not often a Queen died unexpectedly. Brollen would oversee the mourning while moving to increase the support for his ascension as High Prince.

  Prince Brollen had taken measures to ensure that certain young Queens would nominate him to become the leader of the Vorn. In the few instances in the past where a Queen had died prematurely, the other Queens had gathered and nominated her successor. This time a new precedent would be set, and Brollen would be the one nominated.

  When will you return? asked Prince Ortumad.

  Soon, Brollen replied. This last battle in Galaxy X241 has indicated we need more battleships. This galaxy has become much more dangerous than anticipated. This ancient race which has put in an appearance will have to be dealt with as their ships attacked the motherships in my fleet.

  Prince Ortumad sent, I was distressed to learn they destroyed so many of our motherships. They are, indeed, dangerous.

  We have many more battleships at the habitats. I will request that Queen Alithe allow me to activate more of them. In time, we will hunt down this race and harvest its world or worlds. They will be a worthy addition to our growing food supplies. Brollen intended to add many food pellets from the ancient race to his own private collection. They would be the crown jewels of his collection.

  The harvest goes well, Ortumad sent. You are, indeed, worthy to lead our fleets. Queen Alithe made a wise decision.

  Continue to return the Collector ships as they arrive, ordered Prince Brollen. It is essential we build up the food reserves in the habitats to ensure future deletions are not necessary.

  It will be done, Ortumad replied.

  We will dock in ten minutes, Military Leader Gallet reported. The intergalactic transport will make the jump into hyperspace shortly after the Reaper is secure.

  Prince Brollen gazed at the viewscreens on the front wall of the Command Center. Vorn ships were on nearly every screen—the spindle-shaped cruisers, the larger battleships, Collector ships, and the massive intergalactic transport ships. Brollen felt pleased with what he could see. The fleets of the Vorn were powerful beyond belief. It was only a matter of time before the worlds resisting the harvesting would be annihilated and the larders of the Vorn habitats filled to overflowing.

  -

  Kurt was in his quarters, going over the latest reports from his fleet. They were in hyperspace and had long since left the galaxy far behind.

  Lieutenant Evelyn Mays sat in front of his desk, examining a photograph. “So this is what a Collector ship looks like?”

  “Yes, we got that from the captured mothership the Andocks have.”

  Lieutenant Mays continued to stare at the photo and then spoke. “It looks like a giant teardrop.”

  “It’s two thousand meters in diameter at its widest point,” Kurt said. “It’s capable of holding a tremendous number of food pellets. The entire vessel is full of chambers specially built for that purpose. The pellets are reevaluated and classified as to what caste or part of a caste they are best suited for and then sent to the appropriate cargo holds.”

  Lieutenant Mays put the photo on Kurt’s desk, next to one of an intergalactic transport ship. “We have seventy-three warships to attack this system. Assuming we can get into attack range undetected, we can cause a lot of damage.”

  Kurt nodded. “That’s the plan, and Captain Tolmass agrees. We hit them hard and then jump out.” This would be a different kind of attack. They would drop from hyperspace, destroy their targets, and then leave. To stay would be to risk losing the entire fleet, as they would be outnumbered by hundreds to one.

  “I studied what data we have on the system we’re going to. It’s a red dwarf with only one planet, a dead husk without an atmosphere or even a moon. The Vorn ships are in stable orbits around it.” The data had come from the captured Vorn mothership.

  “Being so far from the galaxy, they won’t be expecting an attack. I would guess they won’t even have their energy shields up.” Kurt hoped they wouldn’t, or this attack would be over before it started.

  “I agree,” Mays said. “I’ve been studying the tactics used by the Vorn, and I’ve found something surprising. Their tactics are unbelievably simple. They try to overwhelm the opposition by sending in ships until the defending fleet is no more. I don’t believe they’ve fought many races powerful enough to truly resist them. In a one-on-one battle, our ships would defeat the Vorn nearly every single time. Our captains and tactical officers are taught strategy. We review past battles and discuss the mistakes the commanding officers of those battles made. I don’t think the Vorn have ever done anything like that.”

  “You may be right. Just remember, the Vorn are not from our universe. They’re from another. They escaped from a great race that was destroying them. From what the Glaymons could learn and what we’ve found out from the data we’ve recovered from the captured mothership, a few Vorn motherships and some of their last r
emaining warships dove into a black hole and escaped through the singularity, arriving in our universe.”

  “And that was over twenty-two million years ago,” Mays said. “I wonder how many worlds the Vorn have harvested since then?”

  “More than I want to think about,” Kurt replied.

  It sent chills down his back anytime he thought about the horror the Vorn had brought to his universe. How a race could be so evil was beyond his imagining. He wondered what kind of universe the Vorn had come from. Were they an example of the life-forms that universe contained or had they been an abomination there as well?

  Lieutenant Mays stood. “I should return to the Command Center and run some simulations with Aleea’s help. Based on what I’ve seen of the reaction time from Vorn warships, we should get off two rounds from our kinetic energy cannon plus clear our missile tubes twice. If the entire fleet can do that, we can seriously damage the Vorn fleet stationed at the staging system. However, I should warn you. It will only take the Vorn a few seconds to retaliate. Their shields will come up even as our second attack begins. By the end of the first minute, we will be under heavy weapons fire. I can’t guarantee all our ships will make the jump into hyperspace.”

  Kurt folded his arms across his chest. “I want to hit them twice, maybe even three times, before we jump out. They took over four million people from Mars. We owe it to them to cripple that fleet. We need to take out every single intergalactic transport ship if possible and then the Collector ships. Once those have been annihilated, we’ll start on the motherships.”

  “What about Vorn battleships?”

  Kurt clenched his teeth. It was hard to turn down those targets, knowing they would be vulnerable in those first few seconds.

  “No, we’ll concentrate on the larger ships first and then run for it. Remember, the Vorn are telepathic and they will have a quick response time.”

  Lieutenant Mays nodded. “I’ll see what Aleea and I can come up with.”

  Kurt watched her go. They were only a few days out from their target. He had spoken to Mara earlier. She had requested that, once the attack on the staging system was over, they stop somewhere to check all the ships for needed repairs. She had been very polite and had also mentioned how she would like to show Kurt her cooking skills, inviting him to the Limeira for an evening meal once this was over. Kurt had accepted, knowing he couldn’t keep avoiding her.