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

by Weil, Raymond L.

  “The humans are too dangerous,” responded the AI, unsympathetically. “They must be destroyed.”

  “Why are the humans such a threat?” High Councilor Nartel asked, daring to speak. “Surely, they could be better used to serve the empire?”

  “No,” the AI responded in a firm voice, the glowing light on top of the AI growing even brighter. “The humans are a danger to all of us and must be eliminated.”

  High Leader Ankler listened to the AIs words in amazement. It almost sounded as if the AIs were afraid of the humans. How could that be?

  “The humans can only have a few worlds at the most,” responded Ankler, carefully. If he could talk the AIs into allowing him to conquer these few worlds, perhaps he could still salvage the situation and save his family’s honor.

  “That is incorrect,” the AI responded, moving closer to Ankler, almost hovering over him. “The original humans of the Human Federation of Worlds were brought to those worlds from another, which we now believe is located in the area of space that War Leader Bisth went to. They may be much more numerous than you believe.”

  “Brought to the Human Federation of Worlds? Why, and by whom?” demanded Nartel, forgetting for a moment it was an AI he was addressing.

  “That information is classified,” replied the AI, sounding aggravated at such a question being asked.

  “What are your orders?” asked Nartel finally, seeing that High Leader Ankler was only standing there, gazing uncomprehendingly at the AI.

  “Your High Leader’s life is forfeit,” the AI spoke as a beam of light reached out and touched Ankler, reducing his body instantly to dust and ashes. Only his body armor and blade survived, falling to the floor with a rattling clang. “The four new star systems for colonization are also forfeit.”

  High Councilor Nartel nodded in understanding. This was what they had all been afraid of. The AIs were not forgiving. He let out a deep sigh of frustration; High Leader Ankler had cost them so much.

  “We have two of our ships currently in that section of the galaxy,” the AI continued as it floated away from Ankler’s ashes. “They will be directed to stop this current attack against your empire.”

  “What are our orders?” Nartel asked now knowing that the human attack would be dealt with by the AIs.

  “Prepare a fleet of your most powerful warships,” instructed the AI as it moved slowly along the council table, hovering briefly near every councilor as if it were reminding each of them who was actually in charge of their empire. “There will be five of our ships going with you. We will find the human worlds and destroy them. This time all the humans will be eliminated. You will be sent a time and place to meet our ships. Do not fail us again!” The AI turned and left the chamber without another word.

  Nartel stood for a moment as the massive doors swung shut behind the AI, and then he stepped to the front of the council chamber and sat down in the High Leader’s chair. No one questioned his authority to take it.

  “There is something about these humans that frightens the AIs,” he spoke as he gazed at the other eight councilors.

  “They have never used five of their vessels against a civilization before,” Ruthan added still shaken at being so close to an AI. He had seen them from a distance before, but never like this. “If we want to regain those four systems for future colonization, we must destroy these humans!”

  Nartel nodded in agreement. “We will gather the largest fleet possible for the attack. It will take a while, but we must not fail in this or all of our lives could be forfeit.”

  The other council members looked at the dust and ashes of what remained of their former High Leader in understanding. The AIs were even more merciless than the Hocklyns were.

  “What about High Leader Ankler’s habitat?” asked Ruthan, gazing inquiringly at High Leader Nartel. “What is to become of it?”

  “His family’s honor will be substantially reduced,” responded Nartel, looking at Ruthan with his cold, dark eyes. “Order seventy percent of their wealth to be ceased, and then send another 200,000 Hocklyn civilians to their habitat. I believe they have the room.”

  -

  Fleet Commodore Resmunt stood upon the command pedestal of his flagship gazing with deep concern at the gathering of red threat icons forty million kilometers from his fleet base. In desperation, realizing that a massive battle was soon going to take place, he had called up all the ships from the rearward bases as well as the older escort cruisers garrisoning eighteen of the conquered worlds in his sector. In response, he had gained another six war cruisers and twenty-two escort cruisers. There was nothing else that could reach him in time before the humans launched their expected attack.

  “What’s the latest report from our last two forward fleet bases?” Resmunt asked First Leader Ganth. “Did the dreadnoughts manage to escape?”

  Once Fleet Commodore Resmunt had realized that the humans were systematically reducing his supporting bases to impotency, he had ordered the dreadnoughts to jump to the main fleet base to give Resmunt more experienced War Leaders as well as heavier firepower. None had showed up.

  “We have now lost contact with all five fleet bases,” Ganth reported as he came back from Communications. “The last report was from War Leader Daseth in system 7734. He was under heavy attack and did not believe he could escape from the gravity well of the planet.”

  Resmunt nodded, folding his sinewy arms across the light battle armor he wore. He gazed ponderingly at the main sensor screen. What were the humans up to? If they could destroy his fleet, they could push back the Hocklyn Empire for hundreds of light years in all directions. He knew the humans were using at least three large war fleets to attack the empire. Their superior weapons and tactics so far had been devastating to the defending Hocklyn forces. Many brave Hocklyns had met their honor in the last several days.

  At last, the red threat icons on the main sensor screen seemed to stop growing, and after a few minutes, Resmunt knew this was the fleet he would have to face. “What are their numbers and makeup?” he demanded, looking over at First Leader Ganth.

  “That information is coming in now over the main sensors,” Ganth responded, his eyes widening upon seeing the data. “We are detecting one hundred and twenty warships. At least thirty-eight are of capital ship size.”

  Resmunt nodded, not really surprised. The humans would not be attacking unless they thought they could win. “They hope we will leave the gravity well of the planet and engage them in open space, but that will not be so. Contact War Leader Osbith. He is to position his fleets directly over the fleet base and beneath the defensive satellites. I want him in such a position so he can add his firepower to the satellites or the fleet base as needed. We will move the remaining ships and take up a position around the shipyard; its weapons are as powerful as four dreadnoughts.”

  “Yes, Fleet Commodore,” First Leader Ganth responded as he turned to begin carrying out his orders. He felt great excitement at the coming battle, confident that the commodore would defeat the humans and achieve much honor in his victory. That honor would be shared by all the crewmembers of the dreadnought Liberator. “May honor be with us today.”

  “May honor be with us,” Resmunt replied with a nod.

  His gaze turned back to the main sensor screen. He did not trust these humans, and wondered just what their Fleet Admiral was up to. With a deep, rasping sigh, he turned to go send an FTL message back to the High Council. Fortunately, the FTL transmitter on the fleet base was so powerful it was immune to human jamming. He would send a message on estimated human fleet strength and what the potential danger from these humans were. Resmunt knew the High Council would not like what he was about to say.

  -

  Rear Admiral Sheen gazed speculatively at the tactical holo display as she studied the Hocklyn fleet movements. She watched as the Hocklyn ships carefully positioned themselves into several defensive formations, one directly over their fleet base and the other around their shipyard.

&
nbsp; “Interesting move,” Commander Samantha Davidson commented from Amanda’s side, gazing thoughtfully at the tactical display. “I expected them to come out and meet us in open combat due to that honor system of theirs.”

  “Admiral Streth believes the commodore, or possibly Fleet Commodore, in charge of this base is unique. He has not done what previous Hocklyn War Leaders have in the past. These ship movements only prove Admiral Streth to be correct.”

  Amanda pressed a button on her command console and was instantly in contact with Admiral Adler on the battle carrier Wasp. “Jacob,” Amanda spoke as she continued to gaze at the tactical display. “I don’t see any point in delaying this any longer. I will take Second Fleet into the planet’s gravity well and engage the ships defending the shipyard. Follow us in, but keep at a safe distance. When I feel we have caused enough damage it will be time to send in the bomber strike.”

  “You’re going to lose some ships,” Jacob warned. “That Fleet Commodore is shrewd. It’s going to be tough going against those defenses.”

  “I know,” Amanda replied with a heavy sigh, knowing a lot of good people under her command were about to die. “But what other choice is there?”

  “You could use the Devastator Three missiles,” suggested Jacob, cautiously “That would significantly weaken their defenses.”

  “You know we can’t do that,” Amanda replied. She had direct orders to save the Devastator Threes for use against the AIs if they showed up. They only had a limited number of the super powerful missiles. They were also extremely expensive and complicated to build.

  “Only a few, Amanda,” suggested Jacob, softly. “It would only take a couple to allow the bomber strike to be successful.”

  Amanda was silent for a long moment. She knew she could contact Fleet Admiral Streth and ask permission, but he had made her an admiral. This was her decision to make. “I will take it under advisement, Jacob. Second Fleet will micro-jump to just outside of the planet’s gravity well and begin the attack. Good luck.”

  “Same to you, Amanda,” Admiral Adler replied.

  -

  Fleet Commodore Resmunt sent off his final reports to the High Council. Due to the communication lag, he knew he would not hear back a reply before his forces were engaged by the humans. By the time a reply arrived, he strongly suspected this battle would be over.

  On the main sensor screen, he watched impassively as a large part of the threatening red icons vanished, only to reappear scant moments later just outside the gravity well of the planet. “Here they come,” he spoke as he gazed around the busy War Room. Every Hocklyn was at their post ready for the coming battle. “May honor be with us!”

  First Leader Ganth felt his excitement rising. At last, the humans were here, and he could find new honor in combat. He couldn’t wait to send his first missile and energy beams against the approaching enemy.

  -

  Second Fleet entered the gravity well and accelerated toward their target. Light cruisers and destroyers screened the heavier ships. The crews were at their battle stations, knowing this was the first real battle of Operation First Strike. The other bases had been pushovers because the human fleets had possessed superior numbers and firepower; however, that was not the case here.

  “Battle carriers are launching their fighters,” Commander Evans reported as numerous green icons began leaving the two battle carriers to take up a defensive position around the fleet.

  “Hocklyns are launching fighters also,” Lieutenant Stalls reported as his sensor screen bloomed with numerous small red threat icons leaving the Hocklyn ships. “We’re going to be badly outnumbered.”

  “All ships launch fighters,” Amanda ordered over her ship-to-ship com. She knew that would help to even the odds. She also knew her capital ships had nothing to fear from the Hocklyn fighters. They only carried small missiles that could be a threat to a destroyer but nothing larger.

  “Third Fleet has jumped in,” Lieutenant Stalls added as more friendly green icons appeared just behind Second Fleet.

  “Twenty minutes until we reach optimum firing range,” Lieutenant Mason from Tactical reported.

  “All ships, concentrate on destroying the Hocklyn defensive weapons, particularly their short range railguns on their war cruisers and escort ships,” Amanda ordered in a calm voice. “Our primary objective is not to destroy their ships but to partially disable them so we can send in an Anlon bomber strike.”

  “I just hope this works,” Colonel Bryson the executive officer spoke with worry showing on his face. “I still think we should go for their dreadnoughts.”

  “It will, Colonel,” promised Amanda, glancing over at the colonel. “We will just get the dreadnoughts a little later.”

  Amanda leaned back in her chair and watched the tactical display. In many ways, she wished Richard were here to tell her she was making the right decisions. But it also gave her comfort knowing that he was safely back at New Tellus in a monstrous asteroid that was heavily armed and armored. At least one of them was safe.

  Second Fleet continued to close, and soon the first missiles began to be fired. Bright flashes of light roared across the Hocklyn formation, smashing into their shields.

  “Power beams are to target their dreadnoughts,” Amanda finally ordered as the WarStorm shuddered as increasing Hocklyn ordnance began to strike her shields. The first few rounds of weapons fire had been aimed at reducing the Hocklyn’s defensive fire, but the heavy weapons fire from their dreadnoughts was proving to be too deadly. Already, a number of her warships were reporting heavy battle damage. She knew there were ten dreadnoughts she had to destroy if her attack had any chance of success.

  It was at that moment the weapons on the Hocklyn shipyard began to fire. Her face blanched when she saw one of her destroyers and a light cruiser flare up and vanish from the tactical display.

  “Heavy weapons fire from the shipyard,” Colonel Bryson reported as he studied the data. “They have heavy missiles, railguns, and energy beams.”

  “Damn!” Commander Davidson swore as she looked over at the admiral. “This Hocklyn War Leader or Commodore isn’t taking any chances.”

  In space, missiles, railgun rounds, laser beams, energy weapons, and power beams crisscrossed between the two opposing fleets. They struck energy shields, causing them to waver and occasionally fail. When that occurred, a well placed heavy missile or nuke would either cause serious damage or destroy the helpless ship. Space was full of exploding ordnance as interceptor missiles and railgun defense systems intercepted incoming weapons. On the heavier human ships, defensive laser batteries blasted apart missile after missile before they struck the shields. Even as intense as the defensive fire was, numerous missiles and railgun rounds were still getting through.

  “Status!” barked Amanda as she saw two more of her light cruisers vanish from the tactical display. She wasn’t hurting the Hocklyns enough; she couldn’t afford to trade them ship for ship. The weapons on that heavily armed shipyard were tearing her ships apart.

  “We’ve taken out two of their war cruisers and eight of their escort cruisers and damaged others, but not enough for a bomber strike,” Commander Evans reported. “That damn shipyard has too many heavy weapons on it, and we can’t seem to be able to penetrate its energy screen.”

  “Then we must eliminate it,” Amanda said with fire in her voice as she watched another of her destroyers blaze up and vanish on the tactical display. “I am authorizing a Devastator Three missile launch. Load two of them into the missile tubes and target the Hocklyn shipyard.” She then switched over to Third Fleet’s frequency. “Jacob, I am authorizing a Devastator Three strike against the shipyard, we’re taking too much damage. I want your bomber strike ready to go.”

  “Give me two minutes, Amanda,” Jacob replied as he passed on the orders to move his fleet up closer to Second Fleet and to launch the bombing strike. “What about the Hocklyn fighters, how many remain?”

  “Quite a few,” answered Amanda, loo
king at the tactical display that showed the massive fighter dogfight going on around the fleet. “They’re rather occupied at the moment.”

  “Just tell me when, Amanda, we will be ready.”

  -

  Fleet Commodore Resmunt grinned in satisfaction as another human warship fell to the massed fire of his fleets and the shipyard. He knew now it had been the correct decision to fall back to it. With its heavy weapons and powerful energy shield, it was almost impervious to damage from the attacking humans. As long as he held his ships close to the shipyard, he could destroy this arrogant human fleet.

  “We are winning,” First Leader Ganth spoke with pride as another human destroyer fell to the weapons fire from the flagship. More honor for the crew.

  “We will continue to let them come to us,” instructed Resmunt, knowing if he could continue this heavy bombardment of the human fleet, he might very well manage to hold his base.

  -

  The two minutes were up, and Amanda nodded at Commander Evans. “Initiate Devastator Three launch. All ships to fire upon the shipyard after Devastator strike.”

  Commander Evans stepped over to the tactical officer and, inserting her command key, gave the order.

  Two metal hatches slid open on the WarStorm and, for a moment, there was the barest flicker of movement. Due to the sublight drive and inertial dampening systems on the Devastator Three missiles, they literally left the tubes and arrived at their target simultaneously. The first missile struck the Hocklyn shipyard’s powerful energy shield, knocking a hole in it. The second missile shot through and detonated against the heavily armored hull.

  -

  Fleet Commodore Resmunt gazed in shock as two powerful explosions struck the shipyard. The first was a brilliant light and EMP pulse that shut down the weapons of many of the ships closest to the explosion. The second explosion was against the heavily armored hull of the shipyard itself. He looked up at the War Room’s main viewscreen and, when it cleared from interference, saw that a good quarter of the shipyard was a mangled wreck and its energy shield was down. Human weapons were raining down upon it and in less than a minute, what had taken months to construct was a tangled, giant mass of expanding gases and burning and glowing metal.