The Slaver Wars: Endgame

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The Slaver Wars: Endgame Page 1

by Raymond L. Weil




  The Slaver Wars: Endgame

  (The Slaver Wars Book 7)

  By

  Raymond L. Weil

  Books in the Slaver Wars Series

  Moon Wreck (The Slaver Wars Book 1)

  The Slaver Wars: Alien Contact (The Slaver Wars Book 2)

  Moon Wreck: Fleet Academy (The Slaver Wars Book 3)

  The Slaver Wars: First Strike (The Slaver Wars Book 4)

  The Slaver Wars: Retaliation (The Slaver Wars Book 5)

  The Slaver Wars: Galactic Conflict (The Slaver Wars Book 6)

  The Slaver Wars: Endgame (The Slaver Wars Book 7)

  Website: http://raymondlweil.com/

  Copyright © November 2014 by Raymond L. Weil

  All Rights Reserved

  Cover Design by Humblenations.com

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  The Slaver Wars: Endgame

  Chapter One

  Admiral Sheen felt the WarStorm shudder as several nuclear missiles exploded against the ship’s powerful energy shield.

  “Status!” she barked as she glanced over at Commander Marcus Diaz.

  “Shields are holding at eighty percent,” he replied as he quickly checked a data screen. “No damage being reported. Those were long range shots.”

  On the ship’s main viewscreen, a dark gray planet was visible with isolated patches of sickly green. Around it, four large Hocklyn shipyards orbited. They were Second Fleet’s target. Between the nearest shipyard and the Federation fleet were a multitude of dangerous Hocklyn warships.

  “Breakdown on enemy ships?” Amanda demanded as the WarStorm shook violently once again. She gripped her command chair tightly as the shuddering gradually subsided. On the viewscreens, numerous bright explosions were visible.

  “Twenty dreadnoughts, thirty-one warcruisers, and eighty escort cruisers,” Lieutenant Benjamin Stalls reported as he looked intently at the information coming in over the ship’s sensors. The sensors were full of red threat icons all trying to destroy the WarStorm and the other Federation ships. Even as he watched, the Hocklyns formation began moving.

  “They’re pulling back and dividing themselves up to defend all four of the shipyards instead of continuing to attack us en mass,” Colonel Petra Leon, the executive officer, pointed out with a slight French accent. She was standing next to one of the four large tactical holograms in front of the admiral.

  Amanda studied one of the tactical displays closely for a moment, seeing that Petra was correct. The Hocklyns were pulling back from the brief fleet battle and moving to take up defensive positions around their shipyards. She couldn’t really blame them. The only major shipyards the Hocklyns had left were the ones in this system and one other. Federation forces had destroyed all the others in the last six months. In addition, Fifth Fleet was preparing to attack the shipyards in the other remaining system. When that was done, all of the Hocklyns’ major ship construction facilities, except for those in their home systems, would have been annihilated.

  “Take us on into the gravity well,” ordered Amanda decisively after a moment. “Get Admiral Marsh on the com.”

  A few moments later and Rear Admiral Marsh of the battlecarrier Endurance was on the mini-com. Marsh had been promoted to command Second Fleet’s ten battlecarriers and their strike groups.

  “Evelyn,” Amanda began as she watched the one hundred and sixteen ships of Fourth Fleet move into the gravity well of the planet in one of the tactical displays. “We’re going to hit the nearest shipyard with our heavier warships. I expect the Hocklyns to realize they’ve made a mistake by splitting their fleet to defend each of the shipyards. When they do, they’re probably going to attempt to reform into one massive fleet and come after us. That’s when I want you to hit them with a full bomber strike.”

  “They seem to be launching a lot of fighters,” Evelyn pointed out.

  Studying the tactical hologram, Amanda could see numerous small red threat icons appearing from the direction of the Hocklyn fleets. “Yes, they are,” she responded, wondering about the Hocklyn strategy. “Go ahead and launch your fighters to take them out. The Hocklyns may have loaded them with ship killers, and I would prefer to destroy them before they can get within launch range of the fleet.”

  “Fighters will be launching momentarily,” answered Evelyn. “Bomber strike will be on standby.”

  “Hold your carriers and escorts behind the battle line,” Amanda ordered. She didn’t want to risk her valuable carriers at this point in the battle.

  -

  The Hocklyn commodore in charge of the defense of the shipyards was not on board his flagship. Instead, he was in the War Room of the largest of the shipyards. Unknown to the Humans, he had given the orders months ago to arm the primary shipyard until it had the firepower of over ten Hocklyn dreadnoughts. Its defensive weaponry was also of the same magnitude. He felt confident he could throw back any Human attack.

  “The Humans are preparing to attack Shipyard C2,” War Leader Danth pointed out from his position next to the Command Pedestal.

  “It is as we planned,” Commodore Zeth spoke in his rasping voice, his large, dark eyes focusing on the main tactical display on the front wall of the War Room. The red icons signifying the Human warships were moving steadily toward the first shipyard. It was also the smallest of the four. “Order our ships at the shipyard to offer a token resistance and then withdraw to our position.”

  “They won’t like that,” Danth spoke in a cold voice. “They will feel they’re losing honor by not engaging the Humans fully and protecting the shipyard.”

  “They will have a chance to regain their honor soon enough,” Zeth assured him. “The Humans are launching their fighters; make sure our own war wings understand they’re to eliminate as many of the Human fighters as possible. It will allow for the surprise we have planned for the Humans to have a more devastating effect on their fleet.”

  “As you command,” responded Danth, bowing his head slightly and moving off to pass on the orders.

  Commodore Zeth clenched the six digits on his right hand, feeling the long nails against his pale green reptilian skin. He'd set a devious trap for the Humans, one they would never expect. He had studied their tactics and decided long ago not to make the same mistakes many of his fellow commodores had in combating the Human fleets. The Humans would be expecting normal Hocklyn tactics; what they were going to get was the unexpected.

  Zeth folded his arms over the dark gray body armor that covered his muscular chest and took in a deep breath. If he could defeat this Human fleet, he could return to Calzen in honor and perhaps claim a seat upon the High Council. At the very least, he might be given command of the massive fleets now protecting the home systems.

  -

  Major Karl Arcles was the CAG for the battlecarr
ier Endurance. He banked his Talon fighter slightly to give him a better view of the squadrons, leaving the large flight bay of the carrier. Six squadrons of twenty each would be in the attack wave.

  “At least we’re not in a bomber,” Lacy Sanders commented from her fighter flying just off the starboard side of Major Arcles’ fighter.

  Karl couldn’t help but grin; he knew that Lacy absolutely hated the bombers due to their lack of maneuverability even though they had a forward energy shield. “Not today,” Karl answered as he saw the last squadron leave the Endurance. “All squadrons form up; we have inbound Hocklyns.”

  “I’m going to become an Ace today,” Lieutenant Sloan bragged over the com. “Two more confirmed kills and I’m there!”

  “Just don’t take any unnecessary risks,” warned Major Arcles over the com. “Everyone stay with your wingman and close to your individual squadrons. Stay out of the defensive fire from our ships. I would hate to lose some of you due to friendly fire.”

  “Let’s go kill some Hocklyns,” another pilot spoke.

  “Ditto,” said another.

  “Ditto?” Sloan said, sounding confused. “How old is that term?”

  “From the twentieth century,” Lieutenant Kyle responded. “I saw it in a video the other day about a ghost.”

  “You watch too many of those old videos,” commented Lacy, dryly. Kyle had a huge collection of old videos, which he constantly watched.

  “Can the chatter, people; let’s go engage those inbound Hocklyn fighters,” ordered Major Arcles, firmly. Quickly organizing his squadrons, they moved off toward the large swarm of Hocklyns that were rapidly closing with them. Squadrons from six other battle carriers joined the formation, forming a massive wall of Federation fighters. “About two to one,” Karl commented as he looked at the myriad of approaching red threat icons on his small sensor screen. “Better odds than normal.”

  “Piece of cake,” commented Sloan over the squadrons’ channel. “Time to become an Ace!”

  -

  Admiral Sheen was watching the tactical display just in front of her and to the right. It was showing a closeup of the Hocklyn forces around the shipyard they were rapidly approaching. The shipyard was massive, nearly sixteen kilometers in length and eight across.

  “We’ll be within weapons range of the defending Hocklyn ships in two minutes,” Colonel Petra reported from where she was standing next to the tactical consoles.

  “Fighters are beginning to engage,” added Lieutenant Stalls from his sensor console. On the main sensor screen above him, the two groups of fighters began to merge.

  -

  Major Arcles grimaced as one of his squadron’s fighters exploded in a fiery death. He rolled his fighter to port and fired off one of his two Hunter missiles. It homed in on the Hocklyn fighter ahead and smashed into the engine section, blowing the enemy ship apart. Karl flew through the scattering debris flinching slightly as he heard small pieces striking his cockpit window.

  “Don’t fly through that crap,” Lacy warned, not happy to see Karl risking his fighter that way. There was always the danger of a large fragment cracking or penetrating the reinforced glass of the cockpit.

  Karl only grinned and fired a short burst from his 30mm cannons, raking the belly of another Hocklyn fighter, which hadn’t seen him come through the wreckage. Seconds later, the enemy fighter exploded in a ball of fire.

  “Luck!” Lacy spoke in exasperation as she fell in behind another Hocklyn and fired off her last missile, blowing the enemy fighter into a hundred pieces. She had feelings for Karl and didn’t like seeing him taking risks.

  Around them, bright flashes indicated the deaths of fighters on both sides. It was an old fashion dogfight with squadrons trying to stay in close proximity of each other. Both sides were firing missiles, which very seldom missed. Once they were gone, railgun fire from cannons would become the weapon of the day.

  “Got one!” Sloan yelled jubilantly over the com. “Just one more and I’m an Ace!”

  “I just blew a Hocklyn fighter apart that was lining up on your tail,” Lieutenant Walker broke in tersely. “Stay focused, Sloan, or you’ll be a dead Ace.”

  Major Arcles glanced at his sensor screen, trying to get an estimate of how the Human squadrons were doing. They were winning, but it was going to be costly. It looked as if they were losing a Human fighter to every three Hocklyns they destroyed.

  “Damn!” Lacy yelled as she juked her fighter into a sharp turn and dove away from a Hocklyn, which had managed to sneak up behind her. She glanced down at her flight console seeing several glowing red lights. She had damage to her port wing, and the engine had dropped down to eighty percent power.

  “What’s wrong, Lacy?” Karl asked with concern in his voice.

  He and Lacy had been having a clandestine affair for the last year and he had deep feelings for the thirty-year-old blonde pilot. He looked around frantically, and then saw her fighter just off his port wing and beneath him. He quickly moved his fighter closer.

  “I’ve been hit,” she reported nervously. “I’m showing several red lights and I’m losing power to my engine.”

  Karl made a quick pass beneath Lacey’s fighter, inspecting the damage. He could see at least a dozen small holes in the wing of the fighter and the engine platform. “Take it back to the Endurance,” he ordered. “Your fighter's had it.”

  Lacy thought about arguing with Karl, but knew he was right. “Okay,” she said as she turned her fighter and headed back toward the safety of the battlecarrier.

  Karl stayed close to her until she'd cleared the fighter melee and then, once he was satisfied she was safe, he turned his fighter back around. There were still a lot of Hocklyn fighters that needed killing.

  -

  “In firing range,” Captain Mika Kimura spoke as she saw her weapon systems locking on a Hocklyn warcruiser.

  “Fire!” ordered Admiral Sheen as she gazed at a Hocklyn dreadnought now showing on the main viewscreen. The twelve hundred-meter wedge shaped warship was covered with weapons turrets and missile tubes.

  “Firing,” replied Captain Kimura as she passed on the order to her tactical officers.

  From the WarStorm, violet power beams and Devastator Three missiles erupted from the ship. The upgraded power beams smashed through the warcruiser’s energy shield, melting a deep hole into the hull of the ship. Several sublight forty-megaton missiles followed and the warcruiser exploded as two miniature suns obliterated the ship.

  “Warcruiser is down,” Lieutenant Stalls reported his eyes focused intently on his sensors.

  On the screen, Amanda saw the Hocklyn dreadnought beginning to fire. The damn thing was firing broadsides of railgun rounds and slow moving nuclear missiles. At least slow when compared to the sublight missiles the Federation ships were using.

  -

  In space, a Hocklyn dreadnought was concentrating its fire on a Human light cruiser. The cruiser’s energy shield lit up under the pounding. The Hocklyn dreadnought turned slightly, bringing its deadly energy beam to bear. A blue beam of light flashed from the Hocklyn ship, smashing through the weakening Human energy screen. A massive explosion blew out a major portion of the light cruiser’s hull where the beam hit. Almost instantly, a single Hocklyn twenty-megaton nuclear missile exploded against the hull of the valiant light cruiser. It was more than the cruiser’s armor could handle and the ship vanished as it was consumed by nuclear fire. After a moment, all that remained was a drifting cloud of debris and glowing gases.

  -

  “Light cruiser Hornet is down,” Lieutenant Stalls reported grimly.

  Amanda winced inwardly, knowing the Hornet would not be the only ship lost today. Already numerous fighters were dying in the wild fighter melee going on above the opposing fleets.

  “Continue to advance,” she ordered without hesitation. “Use of sublight antimatter missiles is authorized.”

  Looking around the Command Center, Amanda nodded in satisfaction as the crew wen
t efficiently about their work. This was war and her crew had a lot of experience in that.

  “Light cruiser Justice and Dante are down,” Stalls spoke as more green icons faded from his sensors. He blinked his eyes at the lives being lost.

  “All weapons continue to fire,” ordered Amanda, resolutely.

  This battle could only end one way; with the total destruction of the Hocklyn fleet and the shipyards they were trying to protect. Fleet Admiral Streth had been very clear in that matter. If the Hocklyns were to be defeated, then their major shipyards had to be destroyed. Amanda was not going to let the Fleet Admiral down.

  -

  Across the defending Hocklyn fleet, numerous antimatter missiles were smashing into their shields. The Hocklyn shields could not withstand the impact of a 100-megaton antimatter warhead. Shield after shield failed and when they did, Federation weapons fire would lay havoc to the unprotected Hocklyn warships. Ships began to die rapidly in blinding explosions, occasionally a ship’s self-destructs would be initiated in ships that had suffered major damage and could no longer fight or maneuver.

  The Hocklyns were firing every weapon at their disposal, but the Human shields were just too powerful, particularly on their major warships. The tradeoff in ships was far in the Humans’ favor.

  -

  “Pull our ships back,” ordered Commodore Zeth his eyes holding a dangerous and dark look. “It is as I expected; we can’t knock down the shields on their heavier ships without suffering grievous losses.”

  Danth nodded slowly but hesitated executing the commodore’s order. “We’re causing damage to their light cruisers and have even managed to destroy several of them, but for many of our warriors, honor has come for them. It is a good way to die.”

  “We can’t trade warcruisers and dreadnoughts for light cruisers,” snarled Commodore Zeth his eyes glowing red. “Pull our ships back now!”

  “As you command,” War leader Danth replied in a cold voice as he quickly passed on the order to the remaining ships defending shipyard C2.

 

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