The Ghost Fleet

by Trevor Wyatt

  It was now about the future of the human race.

  Eight.

  The number of conspirators among the senior staff of the TUS Terror who plotted mutiny and to overthrow the Captain of the ship. The Terror had engaged the Sonali at Azukene colony among other vessels. The Sonali were threatening the colony and preparing to eradicate the settlements on the main continent when the Terran fleet intercepted them.

  The Sonali fleet, following prior engagements were able to neutralize the Terran ships with ease. To prevent the loss of the colony, and to slow the Sonali advance, the captain of Terror ordered for her ship to ram the Sonali dreadnought, in about the only tactic that the Terran Union had come up with that was able to destroy the massive Sonali vessels.

  However in this instance, the crew, already demoralized and defeated from multiple engagements that resulted in retreats and falling back, were not prepared to sacrifice their lives when they felt that it would have no bearing on whether the colonists lived or died.

  They rose up in a unanimous mutiny against the captain and dispatched their ships logs via slipstream to mimic the destruction of the ship. The Sonali went on to destroy all life on the Azukene Colony.

  Thirty-two.

  The percentage decrease in food that was sent to colonies that were not self-sufficient. While farming colonies continued to eat well, major urban centers that imported their food felt the pain. At heart of the problem was that there were a smaller number of worlds producing the food for people to eat. As food supply decreased, the energy requirements and thus the credit payment prices for matter sequensor-sourced food became higher. For the first time in over two hundred years, pockets of humanity across the Terran Union went hungry or starved.

  Sixteen million.

  The number of people who voluntarily joined the Terran Armada during the first year of the Earth-Sonali War. Most went into the ranks of enlisted while a small fraction joined the Academy. Many more deferred or came back from their retirement as well. Patriotic fervor swept through the Terran Union at first. But as time went on, patriotic fervor gave way to another emotion.

  Fear.

  Fear for the future of humanity. Fear for what the homefront was turning into. Fear for the future. In popular culture and in the collective fabric of the Terran Union, the struggle with the Sonali went from a disastrous first contact war to a battle for survival.

  Fifty-five.

  The number of admirals who had raced to the Mars Research and Development Laboratories operated by the Terran Armada once the TUS Shrike had brought back a damaged, but otherwise intact, Sonali frigate into the Terran Union. The recovery of the enemy ship gave the first real hope that the Terran Union would survive the destructive conflict that was engulfing much of its border.

  Ten.

  The number of ships that engaged the Sonali in the first month of the second year of the war. Unlike prior encounters with Sonali fleets, the Terran Armada was now equipped with prototype weapons that gave them an edge based on rapid reverse engineering of the Sonali systems from The Shrike’s find. The losses, while still significant, allowed the Terran Armada to drive away the Sonali fleet in the orbit of Gallica Prime, saving the 120,000 residents below.

  For the first time during the course of the struggle, the Terran Union breathed a sigh of relief. The nonstop research and development as well as re-engineering of Sonali technology had finally began to bear fruit—and even if the Armada was not ready to carry the attack to the enemy, they were starting to get things aligned in order to repel them.

  Seventeen.

  The number of months following the start of the war that the Terran Armada launched its first real counteroffensive against the Sonali Combine. The goal was simple. Burst into Sonali space, engage the enemy as little as possible, destroy a major trade hub near the border of the Sonali Combine and Terran Union, and then retreat back to Terran space before reinforcements arrived.

  The nature of the mission was to strike hard and fast and use the element of surprise. Terran Armada strategists, sitting in Vancouver, knew that no matter how many retrofits their ships went through, they were not ready for a full on slugfest with the enemy.

  The attack was carried out with utmost secrecy and was successful. It resulted in the destruction of ten Sonali ships, a Sonali space station...and a civilian colony with approximately 300,000 lives.

  Six.

  The number of years that Armada Intelligence believed that the Terran Union would be able to continue the war with the Sonali Combine. The analysts in charge of making this prediction took into account every variable that they believed was realistic.

  They accounted for the fact that Sonali technology would be reverse engineered and that the Terran Armada would begin to win victories against the Sonali. They accounted for the fact that both sides would evolve their warfare. They even accounted for the unconventional tactics that both sides would one day use—tactics that by the beginning of the third year of the war were beginning to be tested—from Sonali death drops to Terran use of FTL mines.

  Armada Intelligence extrapolated a scenario where the combined cost of the war would lead to the gradual erosion of the Terran Armada to maintain law and order across the vast expanse of its space. As resources began to be drained, outside involvement by one of the newly discovered alien races or by the Outer Colonies (also known as the Human Confederation) would become more likely.

  The population, long used to a constitutional republic that was free of any sort of state-sanctioned rationing would begin to become restive. And slow loss of oversight among the far flung colonies would eventually lead to another schism, whereby colonies would attempt to preserve their existence based on their self-interest.

  Armada Intelligence believed that after six years of war, at the current levels, the Terran Union would become ungovernable. This lack of coordination on the homefront would lead to a situation where less materiel would be collected and allocated to fighting the alien threat. This would lead to further losses, and defeat would spur colonies to seriously consider going their own way. Major urban centers such as New Washington would find a rationale for negotiating a separate peace with the Sonali Combine. And this would lead to the gradual but eventual dissolution of the authority of the Terran Union.

  Which would ultimately lead to defeat.

  The study from Armada Intelligence did not suggest any recommendations. But it set off a flurry of activity in the highest levels of the Terran Union. The Terran Armada’s pleas for resources were given top priority. The rebuilding of Earth was placed on hold. Constitutional freedoms were curtailed. Corporations were given broad autonomy and endless streams of revenue to contribute in the war effort.

  Within a month, it resulted in a shift in thinking. And a new offensive began to take shape among the Admiralty.

  Jeryl

  “Two minutes ‘til we reach orbit, Captain.”

  Jeryl nodded at his helmsman and then pressed a button on his chair’s panel to talk to the entire ship. “All hands, this is Captain Montgomery. We’ll reach Oriane’s orbit in two minutes. Keep sharp—the Sonali will be waiting.”

  With that, he cut off the comm’s channel and leaned back against his seat, his eyes trained on the viewscreen.

  Even though he couldn’t help the deep seated anxiety that always took over him whenever they geared up for battle, this time he actually felt confident.

  After three years of fighting the Sonali all over the galaxy, the enemy was no longer a mysterious force they had no idea how to deal with. They had shed tears and blood over the years, but the Terran Armada had managed to fight back. Through the use of sheer force and covert operations, they slowly lifted the veil that kept Sonali operations from view, and now they knew how to fight...and win.

  More than that, The Seeker had been retrofitted into the perfect war machine. Combining the best engineering from both the Sonali and human side, billions of credits had been poured into upgrading the Terran Armada fleet. Desp
ite The Seeker’s track record which includes a staggering amount of losses and retreats throughout the first years of the war, Jeryl’s command abilities had managed to convince the higher-ups in the Armada to make one of the first investments in The Seeker.

  Jeryl smiled to himself as he felt the FTL drive slowly power down. In a few seconds, The Seeker would enter Oriane’s orbit, a small research colony on the Sonali-Terran border, and the Sonali would have to contend with a whole battalion hell-bent on grinding them into dust.

  Oriane wasn’t exactly a high-priority target—it was nothing more than a colony used by the Sonali to conduct military research. But the Armada wanted to send a message. And so The Seeker had been tasked with destroying the fleet protecting the colony and glassing the whole planet.

  Fear us, Jeryl thought to himself, fully knowing that the Sonali whispered his ship’s name with dread.

  Sure, The Seeker suffered countless losses in the first few years of the war, but Jeryl made sure the Sonali paid for every shot fired against the hull of his ship. He couldn’t even remember how many dreadnoughts and frigates he had managed to destroy during the past few months—they were too many to count. And the colonies too. Under Jeryl’s command, more than a dozen colonies had been turned into an inhabitable hell hole. How many Sonali lives would Jeryl have to respond for in the afterlife? He didn’t know the answer for that, and he wasn’t entirely sure if he cared.

  War was hell, and Jeryl had embraced his role as the Devil.

  “Five seconds, Captain!” The helmsman announced, and Jeryl noticed his anxious tone. The red glare of the emergency lights was already covering every wall in the CNC, and even the viewscreen colors were more vibrant and urgent. Every officer around Jeryl looked tense and nervous, but they all seemed more ready to do their job. Years of war had carved them into ruthless operators, and Jeryl knew he could trust every single one of them to carry out his orders.

  “Three, two, one!” The moment the helmsman’s countdown was finished, The Seeker rocked slightly and then the Sonali colony filled the viewscreen.

  It was a small planet, roughly twice as big as Earth’s moon, and its atmosphere had it painted in pinkish tones. According to The Seeker’s sensors, eight dreadnoughts and 46 frigates orbited the colony. That was enough to protect it from an Armada small incursion, but definitely not a match for the upgraded The Seeker and its accompanying battalion of twelve warships and 50 terran frigates.

  “They’re assuming battle formation,” one of the Ensigns shouted, and Jeryl nodded quietly. He didn’t even need to open a comm channel to the rest of his battalion—everyone had already been briefed about what they needed to do. It was now only a matter of going through the motions.

  “Lock weapons on the closest dreadnought,” Jeryl commanded as The Seeker advanced through space steadily, closing the distance between her and the Sonali fleet.

  “Weapons locked and ready,” Ashley announced as she exchanged a quick confident glance with Jeryl. Even though they tried their best to keep their relationship a secret, it was getting harder and harder to keep it on the downlow. In fact, Jeryl was sure that everyone in CNC knew they were an item—after all, the glances they traded all the time were a dead giveaway that there was something going on between the two of them.

  And so what? Jeryl thought to himself. We’ll be married soon enough, anyway.

  “As soon as they’re within range, fire away,” he commanded, trying to keep his mind on the issue at hand. It would do him no good to keep Ashley’s smile floating behind his eyes while he should be focused on bringing down the Sonali fleet orbiting Oriane.

  A few seconds later and The Seeker’s particle beams cut through the empty space and found their resting place on the dreadnought’s hull. The hulking spaceship didn’t even move as The Seeker fired. Sonali intelligence probably wasn’t aware of The Seeker’s upgrade, and as such they weren’t ready for its superior firepower. The dreadnought’s shield lit up the space around it for a brief moment, but it didn’t help much. Jeryl could already see a gaping hole in the Sonali spaceship, and he saw as it started falling back in formation.

  “Fire again,” he commanded, deciding not to allow the dreadnought to escape. Three Sonali frigates were already flanking the dreadnought, but one more clean hit and it’d go down.

  “Their weapons are locked on us, Sir!” One of the Ensigns announced nervously, but Jeryl simply kept quiet.

  A moment later and The Seeker was already firing away, three particle beams hitting the dreadnought on the side. The frigates that were flanking it floated away from it, and Jeryl took that as a good sign. They had probably hit their FTL engines bad, which meant that the dreadnought was nothing more than a bomb about to go off.

  “They’ve lost their weapons—” Ashley started to say, but her sentence was cut short as raging blue flames devoured the dreadnought from the inside out, its hull collapsing like a sandcastle.

  “One down,” Jeryl muttered to himself, and then he looked down at the sensor screen. Sonali fighters were already trying to swarm the Terran frigates, but the new evasive maneuvers that had been developed by the Terran Armada’s best strategists were already paying off. Instead of inflicting any damage, the Sonali fighters were being picked off one by one, swatted down like annoying flies. Jeryl’s battalion had already downed 12 Sonali frigates, and that without suffering any losses.

  The next two minutes went by in the blink of an eye.

  The Seeker fell back into formation and, assuming a wall formation with the other 12 warships, they kept advancing on the Sonali and firing away until Oriane’s orbit was cluttered with debris. Dead ships floated down onto the planet, their lights out, and Jeryl couldn’t hide his satisfaction. After being beaten down for so long, it felt good to be able to hand out some punishment in return.

  “Thye’re engaging their FTL drives,” Ashley whispered. “We’ve won the day.” Her eyes were focused on Jeryl’s monitor as, one by one, the remaining Sonali ships pulled back from combat and jumped into FTL, their enormous shapes vanishing in the blink of an eye.

  “What’s our status?” Jeryl asked her.

  “Aside from minor damages, all warships remain ready and operational. The Seeker has received no hits. We only lost two frigates to the Sonali,” she announced, reading the information on her own monitor.

  “Very well,” Jeryl barked, going up to his feet. He was feeling happy about the victory, but he didn’t want to sound to gleeful—after all, they’d lost two frigate crews to the Sonali. Even if they had scored a victory and inflicted major losses, losing two frigates meant that a lot of families across the galaxy would be receiving folded Terran flags.

  “Send orders for the rest of the fleet to align,” he continued, now turning to the comms officer, Mary Taylor. “We’re going to end the job and then get the hell out of here before they send reinforcements.”

  “Already done, Sir,” Mary replied briskly.

  “Sir, there’s something you should know,” one of the Ensigns in charge of both the ship’s sensors and scanners said, jumping up from his seat and turning to face Jeryl.

  “Go ahead.”

  “Our scanners have detected more signs of life than Armada Intelligence led us to believe,” the young man replied nervously, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he stared at Jeryl.

  “Go on.”

  “We were to believe that the research facilities on Oriane housed no more than 50 thousand Sonali, but our scanners indicate that at least two million Sonali inhabit this colony.”

  “Two million?” Jeryl whispered to himself. Maybe Oriane wasn’t that unimportant of a target after all. If a research colony had that many Sonali living in there, it meant they were probably pouring a lot of their resources into it.

  “The battalion is aligned and ready to proceed, Sir,” Mary announced. Jeryl looked at the viewscreen in silence, watching as dozen of hulls aligned in Oriane’s orbit, The Seeker right in the middle of the line.
<
br />   “Very well. Proceed,” he commanded, and then sank down into his seat as the plasma cannons started firing down onto Oriane, the beams lighting up the cold space as they slashed down the atmosphere and hit the stony ground thousands of kilometers below The Seeker.

  Two million dead in just a few seconds.

  No more running, he mused to himself as he saw the planet burning under him.

  Jeryl

  “One more for the road,” Jeryl whispered as he poured another shot of whiskey. He wasn’t the kind of man to drink during service, but he figured he needed a drink after cutting short the lives of more than two million Sonali.

  Throwing his head back, he downed the whiskey fast and then slammed the glass on top of his Captain’s desk, the amber liquid burning down his throat. He looked at the bottle for a few seconds—just a cheap import from a hidden corner in Terran territory—and then closed his eyes.

  He tried to peer down into the well of his own heart, but the darkness inside it stopped him from doing it. After glassing a whole planet, he knew he should be feeling...something. But all he felt was a corrosive numbness that stripped every emotion away from him. Two million, two billion...it was all the same to him. He’d follow his orders, kill and destroy everything in his path, and see this war through.

  “Captain!” He heard a familiar voice blare through his comms. “We need you here”

  “On my way,” he responded automatically, and then jumped up to his feet. He pushed the empty glass to a far side of his desk and then put the cork back on the bottle. Straightening his uniform jacket, he then marched out of his private office.