The Slaver Wars: First Strike (The Slaver Wars Book Four)

by Weil, Raymond L.

  “So there actually were survivors,” Admiral Bennett commented with surprise. “I would have thought the Hocklyns would have eliminated all of them.”

  “A few survived,” Amanda responded with a sad look in her blue eyes. Her brunette hair was still cut short in the current military style allowed for women. “On Krall Island there were fewer than twenty survivors at the time of our return. Many of them were quite old.”

  “That’s a remarkable story,” commented Admiral Adler. He had left family behind in the old Federation as well; they all had. After so much time, he doubted if there would be any way now to find out their fate.

  “After all these years, I imagine there will be very little left of the old cities of the Federation,” Admiral Bennett spoke, thinking about how the passage of time could quickly erase any signs of human habitation.

  “You’re probably right,” responded Admiral Sheen, sadly. “Even when we returned, the cities were already being overrun by plant growth. All six of the old worlds of the Federation by now have returned to how they were before humanity set forth upon the planets.”

  “We have the new Federation now,” Admiral Bennett stated. “Perhaps someday we can return to those worlds once again and claim them as ours.”

  “We can only hope,” Admiral Adler responded in agreement. “It would be great if we could one day drive the Hocklyns out of our old systems.”

  Hedon reached forward and took a sip of the rich red wine in his glass. He had spent considerable time traveling around the worlds of the new Federation inspecting ships, bases, shipyards, and even the massive battle stations orbiting Earth. There were twenty-two billion humans living in the Federation; Hedon hoped that was enough and that they were ready for what was ahead.

  “I spoke with Major Ackerman earlier today,” commented Hedon, setting his glass down. “He believes the Hocklyns will be attacking Caden’s World shortly.”

  “Admiral Johnson feels we’re ready,” Admiral Bennett added as he reached for a roll and began buttering it. “Admiral Tolsen’s fleet has been heavily reinforced, and newly promoted Rear Admiral Strong will have his special task force on standby. In addition, the orbital defenses and defensive fleet have also been heavily augmented.”

  Amanda smiled and recalled the first time she had met Jeremy Strong; even then she had found him to be highly intriguing. Now he was an admiral. She shook here head as she thought about how quickly things could change.

  “Perhaps so,” Hedon responded in a grave and concerned voice. “But we need to annihilate this Hocklyn attack fleet while we have the opportunity. We may not have too many chances to destroy one of their large fleets in its entirety.”

  “What do you suggest?” asked Bennett, laying his roll down and focusing his full attention on Admiral Streth.

  “We have discussed allowing Admiral Adler to try some of our new battle carrier tactics out in this battle.”

  “Yes, I recall Admiral Johnson mentioning that,” Bennett responded. He still wasn’t convinced how useful the Anlon bombers could be against Hocklyn ships. The survivability of a bomber going in close enough to release its missiles was very low. “But the main part of the battle will be fought by our main warships, not the battle carriers.”

  “That’s the change I am recommending,” Admiral Streth replied in a serious tone. He leaned back and pushed his plate away. “We have changed the makeup of the squadrons on the battle carriers. I think if handled properly, we can use this to our advantage and perhaps win a substantial victory in Caden’s system over the Hocklyns.”

  “Why the battle carriers?” asked Bennett, feeling confused. “They ensure we can knock out the Hocklyn’s fighters, and they are a good backup if we need heavier firepower. If I recall correctly, the bomber squadrons suffered nearly eighty percent casualties in Admiral Tolsen’s engagement.”

  “It was our first major attempt since we left the old Federation to use our bomber squadrons in that way,” explained Adler, taking a deep breath. He had spent a lot of time talking to some of the surviving Anlon pilots as well as reviewing battle video.

  “In all of our engagements against the Hocklyns, they have never deployed any type of bomber or fighter capable of carrying a heavy missile,” Hedon informed Admiral Bennett. “I intend to use Gliese 667C to test some new carrier tactics. Admiral Adler, will you please explain to Admiral Bennett what we have in mind.”

  Adler nodded and smiled wolfishly. “I have changed the squadron mix on my battle carriers,” he began. “Each carrier will have two twenty-ship squadrons of Talon fighters and fourteen ten-ship squadrons of Anlon bombers. Each bomber is being equipped to handle four modified Shrike missiles with Klave class warheads. We can also use tactical nukes on the Shrikes if need be.”

  Bennett was silent as he mulled this over. “If your bombers go up against the Hocklyns, you’re going to suffer heavy losses just as Admiral Tolsen did. While it’s true they have no bombers, they do have powerful defensive systems to defend against fighters. To launch those missiles, you will have to be in range of those defenses. They will cut your bombers to pieces.”

  “We’ve managed to install a weak forward energy shield on the bombers,” Hedon added with a grin. “It should allow the Anlons to take one or two hits. If the pilots are good, they should be able to get in, release their missiles, and then get the hell out.”

  Bennett nodded as he thought this over. “Even so, you’re still going to lose a lot of your bombers.”

  Hedon was silent for a long moment. “I realize that. But I would rather lose the bombers with their two-man crews than a major warship where the losses would be in the thousands.”

  “What do the bomber crews think about that?” Bennett asked. He hated the idea of acceptable losses. He knew that if he were a pilot, he wouldn’t want to be flying one of those bombers.

  “They’re all volunteers and have been told about the risks,” Hedon answered. “We actually have more volunteers than we have bombers.”

  Bennett looked over at Admiral Adler. “What is the current makeup of Third Fleet for this battle? I understand there have been some changes.”

  Adler glanced over at Hedon, who nodded. “We have ten battle carriers, two Monarch heavy cruisers, four light cruisers, and twelve destroyers.”

  “You’re risking a lot with this,” commented Bennett, leaning back and looking at Admirals Streth and Adler. “That’s almost half the carrier strength in the Ready Reserve.”

  “War is about taking risks,” Hedon responded in a firm voice. “With the help of Admiral Tolsen, I intend to wipe out this Hocklyn fleet when it attacks.”

  “Then you will be there as well?” asked Bennett with arched eyebrows.

  “With Second Fleet,” answered Hedon, looking over at Amanda. “Second Fleet is fully ready, and we will be using it as a reserve force if the Hocklyns come in with a really powerful fleet. It will also give us the opportunity to give the commanders of our ships a taste of actual combat.”

  “Second Fleet is ready,” Amanda responded. Hedon had already told her about his plans. “We have been conducting battle drills for the past ten days.”

  The four continued to talk for a while longer before Admirals Bennett and Adler had to leave. Once they were gone, Hedon looked across the table at Amanda.

  “The war is here, Amanda,” he said softly. “How is Richard taking his new assignment?”

  Amanda took a small sip of her wine and then looked up at Hedon. “Admiral Johnson has placed him in charge of the asteroid fortresses in the New Tellus System. She feels that his experience in defending the shipyard above New Providence makes him perfect for the job.”

  “That’s good,” Hedon responded with a nod. “It’s an excellent post for Richard.”

  He had been aboard several of those massive asteroid fortresses; they were unbelievably powerful. Each was capable of taking on a Hocklyn fleet on its own. He had been extremely impressed on his tour at all that had been accomplished since h
e had gone into cryosleep so long ago. The Federation had spent decades designing and building up their defenses to stand up to the Hocklyns. The human race was nearly ready for war. Hedon’s only question was whether or not the Hocklyns could truly be stopped. While it was true that the human race had grown very powerful, the Hocklyns still outnumbered them hundreds or possibly thousands to one. Then, of course, there were the AIs.

  “He likes it,” Amanda spoke with a pleased smile. “He should be safe on the fortresses.”

  “What does he think about you being in charge of a fleet that will be going off to fight the Hocklyns?”

  “He accepts it,” answered Amanda, letting out a deep breath. “We both know this war is going to be long and dangerous and there will be risks involved, but we went into cryosleep so our descendants would be free of the Hocklyn threat. We both believe in that.”

  Hedon nodded in understanding. “I have faith in you, Amanda; there may be some extremely difficult things that I may ask of you in the coming years. This war will not be easy, and it might not be winnable, but we are going to do everything in our power to stop the Hocklyns and their AI masters.”

  The two spoke quietly for a few more minutes and then went their separate ways. Admiral Streth flew up to his new flagship, the Vanquisher class battleship StarStrike. As his shuttle approached the new ship, he couldn’t help but marvel at her 1,600-meter length. This new StarStrike was the most powerful ship ever built by the new Federation. It was fully capable of acting as a command ship for the entire Federation fleet.

  A little while later, Hedon was in his quarters. He looked around, taking note of how new and immaculate everything was and let out a heavy sigh. It would take a while, but this was his new home. He reached into a bag he had brought aboard and took out several photographs. The first was of his brother Taylor and Lendle. It had been taken in front of the cabin on Maken down by the lake. The second was of his old flagship, the battle cruiser StarStrike. Hedon placed both pictures carefully on his desk and then sat down. He was quiet for quite some time as he thought about all the people and friends he had left behind.

  Chapter Eight

  War Leader Bisth stood on the command pedestal in the War Room of his flagship the Hocklyn dreadnought WarCry. He had just finished a briefing of his three subordinate War Leaders and they were in the process of returning to their respective commands. Tomorrow, they would be leaving to attack the human mining colony. It would take eight days to reach the targeted system by the route Bisth had chosen.

  Bisth had wanted to make sure that the other three War Leaders understood their objectives in the coming conflict. The first was to eliminate any armed resistance in the system, which included all warships and orbital defenses. If any civilian freighters were located, they were to be disabled and boarded. Once that was done, they would form a cordon around the mining planet just outside of the planet’s gravity well. Bisth did not intend to allow his fleets to be caught as Sangeth had.

  They would then begin landing Protectors on the planet under the covering fire of several escort cruisers. The primary goal of the Protectors was to secure information; computers, star maps, and even captives were desirable.

  In the two transports that Resmunt had furnished were 1,200 highly trained Protectors, all anxious to advance their honor in combat. Bisth allowed himself to bask in the thought that all of his mission objectives would be accomplished. His honor would be substantially increased as well as his standing as a War Leader. Fleet Commodore Resmunt had even requested that a number of human captives be returned to the fleet base. He was interested in seeing what type of slaves they would make.

  Bisth turned his attention to the new orbiting shipyard that was nearing completion. Why Resmunt had demanded they spend so much time and labor building the monstrosity was beyond Bisth’s understanding. The shipyard was six kilometers across and two wide. It contained four large repair bays as well as the facilities to make most of the parts to repair any ship of the Hocklyn fleet. The shipyard was also heavily armed. There were other larger shipyards deeper in the empire, where new ships were being built and others repaired, but he had never heard of one out on the outskirts of the empire such as this one.

  Even more alarming were the defenses that Resmunt was putting up in orbit. Missile platforms and railgun satellites surrounded the planet. Much of the current construction capability of the completed sections of the shipyard were being dedicated to building these satellites. It made Bisth wonder if Resmunt knew something that he had not conveyed to the others in his command. Perhaps Resmunt had some other devious motive.

  If Bisth didn’t know better, it almost seemed as if Fleet Commodore Resmunt was preparing for an attack against his fleet base. He shook his head and had the view on the main viewscreen changed. The dreadnought Crimson Oblivion appeared. The ship had been completely repaired in one of the new repair bays on the station. It looked as new as the day it came out of its original construction bay. The Crimson Oblivion was 1,200 meters long and slightly wedge shaped, its hull covered with numerous weapon emplacements. Bisth knew that his own ship looked the same.

  “All ships are ready for departure,” First Leader Gresth reported from his position at the plotting table. “Supplies and munitions are on board, and the crews are anxious for battle.”

  “Excellent,” Bisth replied, his large eyes turning toward his second in command. “We will be departing orbit in the morning. Hyperjumps will be twenty light years each, and we will be doing five per day.”

  “As you command,” Gresth responded with a slight nod of his head.

  His pale green skin was covered in gray colored body armor, which was customary among Hocklyn fleet officers. Gresth’s six digit hands were a darker green, and the long, sharp nails on the tips of his fingers could be deadly in hand-to-hand combat. He also carried a sharp blade in a small scabbard attached to his armor at the waist. Gresth was renowned among the crew of the WarCry for his combat ability, and had personally been involved in four honor matches between Hocklyns that had substantially increased his honor.

  Bisth had watched several of Gresth’s matches. Hocklyns could challenge each other for honor points. The objective was to draw blood from your opponent. Normally in a match, each successful blow was awarded with ten honor points deducted from your opponent.

  In a good match between skilled individuals, there would be much blood from numerous cuts as the battle waged back and forth. If an opponent appeared to be too severely injured to continue, the match was halted and the winner awarded the maximum amount of honor points allowed. The point of these matches was not to kill your opponent but to hone your combat abilities.

  Bisth looked closely at the sensor screen, which showed his assembled fleet. He had eight dreadnoughts, twenty-four war cruisers, and sixty-four escort cruisers. It was an overwhelming force in normal times. In the previous battle, he had held most of his ships back, including over half of Sangeth’s fleet. That would not be the case this time. He knew what he was up against, and he would use his superior numbers and firepower to annihilate any human ships that were in the target system. Even with their superior shields and weapons, the humans would be crushed by the massive amount of firepower the combined Hocklyn fleets would bring to bear.

  Bisth spent several long minutes reviewing his strategy; there were still several questions he had about the ultimate objective of this mission. He also wanted to speak to Fleet Commodore Resmunt one more time. He changed the view on the main viewscreen and watched as a large shuttle left the shipyard and headed into orbit, doubtlessly to place more defensive satellites above the planet. He still felt as if he were missing something. Perhaps speaking to the commodore one more time would allow him to fill in the missing pieces.

  -

  Admiral Tolsen was sitting at the command console in the heavy battlecruiser WarHawk, gazing thoughtfully at the holographic display above the plotting table to his left. Colonel Beck was standing next to him as they discussed
the tactical situation. His fleet was currently stationed twenty million kilometers outward from Caden’s World.

  “How much longer until they attack?” Peter asked as he studied the deployment of the laser satellites and missile platforms around the planet.

  There were currently two hundred laser satellites as well as forty missile platforms in geostationary orbits. Beneath them were ten Federation destroyers and four light cruisers.

  “Intelligence believes it will be shortly,” replied Tolsen, letting out a deep breath. “Enough time has passed since our last engagement for the Hocklyns to have completed the plans for their next attack.”

  Tolsen’s fleet had been heavily reinforced. He now had four battle cruisers, three battle carriers, six Monarch heavy cruisers, twelve light cruisers, and twenty destroyers. It was a massive fleet for a single Federation admiral to command.

  “I think it might be wise if we divide our fleet,” Tolsen said after a minute of thought. He had spent a lot of time thinking about how this battle needed to be fought.

  Fleet Admirals Johnson and Streth wanted to make this system a trap. He was afraid that if the Hocklyns jumped in and found a fleet much larger than the one they had previously engaged, they might withdraw. However, Intelligence had pointed out that due to the Hocklyn’s crazy honor system, withdrawal was not an option. But Tolsen was not so sure; after all, the flagship of the Hocklyn fleet he had engaged had fled.

  “Divide the fleet?” Peter asked surprised, arching his eyebrows and shaking his head in confusion. “Why?”

  “We want to set a trap,” Tolsen explained. He then went on and told his executive officer his reasoning.

  “You may be right,” Peter agreed after a moment, folding his arms across his chest. “We can pull part of the fleet out to the comet ring, and they can jump back in when the Hocklyn fleet is committed.”