Exodus: Empires at War: Book 11: Day of Infamy (Exodus: Empires at War.)

by Doug Dandridge

  “We can at best make hyper III, my Lord,” said the Chief Engineer.

  Which made them the fastest ship in the force, what remained of it. He still had three ships, though the term really didn’t apply to two of them, which were more hulks than anything else. Neither of them could even get into hyper. They were doomed. And with only hyper III in her future the same could be said of his ship.

  The enemy had been hurt as well. They had lost two of their scout capital ships, as well as seven smaller vessels. Much less than the tonnage of one of his ships. It had been a decisive victory for the humans. It had been a decisive defeat for his side in all respects. They had failed to take out the station, and now they would not be able to set a raider force on their shipping.

  “Orders, my Lord?”

  “We will stay with the other ships, and fight the other human force when it comes up on us,” he said.

  “We may still be able to escape into hyper, my Lord,” replied the Tactical Officer.

  The High Admiral gave a head motion of negation and sat in his chair. We are doomed. And we stand a better chance of taking more of their ships with us if we stay together. He said a prayer to the Gods, that the souls of his crews would be accepted into the presence of the great warriors of the past. He wasn’t sure that would happen, since they had failed their Emperor, but he could always hope.

  * * *

  “Jumping into normal space, now,” called out the Helm Officer.

  The Great Admiral gave a head motion of acknowledgement, staring at the plot. The rest of his fleet was gone, either destroyed or on the run. But he still had several thousand ships heading into the main objective of the mission. According to the information they had gotten from the human officers they had taken prisoner, this system was now lightly defended. And the allies of the humans had pulled their ships from the front.

  It seems that their alliance was not as strong as they thought. They are weaker than we had thought, and if we can take this system, and install a gate, the next move will be into the heart of their empire.

  The lights dimmed for a moment as the nausea of translation hit. Ahead was the bright star of the New Moscow system, the plot coming alive with the graviton emissions of ships. Only a couple of hundred, about what he expected. He knew the humans had at least one gate in the system, but their attention had been elsewhere, and they hadn’t been able to ship reinforcements here.

  “Order all ships to head for the planet,” ordered the Great Admiral. “We will brush aside everything they try to put in our path.”

  “You need to see this, my Lord,” called out the Tactical Officer. “We are getting this from one of the lead ships.”

  The tactical plot changed, converting into a holo viewer that showed what was happening in the orbit of the planet. Or what had happened over two hours prior. The frame of a wormhole gate was centered in the holo, a large ship transiting from it. Immediately after another came through.

  “That is not a human ship,” exclaimed the Great Admiral.

  “No, my lord. It looks like one of the vessels from the Empire the humans call Elysium.” The view panned out, showing many more of those ships in orbit, as well as an equal number of another configuration of vessel.

  The Great Admiral recognized those. The warships of the reptilian forms known as Crakista. There seemed to be a lot of their ships as well, but how many? Enough to challenge his force.

  “We’re picking up graviton emissions, my Lord,” called out the Tactical Officer, an expression close to panic on his face.

  “How many?”

  “Estimate over six thousand, my Lord. And we still have ships coming from out of the wormhole.”

  The Admiral pulled the data up on a side holo. Actually it looked like there were two wormhole gates, and they were both transiting ships according to the new graviton sources that kept springing up every ten seconds or so. They were bringing them in as fast as they could. And the ones already in the system were heading out toward them at over five hundred gravities. Moments later a hundred and sixty thousand more graviton sources appeared on the sensors, missiles traveling out at ten thousand gravities.

  “It looks like the humans have shared their newest missile technologies with their allies,” said another officer over the com.

  That was such a foreign concept to the Ca’cadasans, who, while they might use a subjugated alien race for certain tasks, would never give them their best military tech.

  “Orders, my Lord?”

  “Get me command on the com,” said the Great Admiral, looking over at his Com Officer. “How long before we can configure the wormhole into a gate?” he asked his Tactical Officer. They only had the one, and he wasn’t sure how fast they could build up his forces.

  “At least two hours, my Lord. We can possibly get about two hundred ships through each hour. But the missiles will be arriving in a little over four.”

  So we can get at most four hundred ships through before the missiles arrive. Not enough to take on that force. Even as those thoughts were going through his mind the enemy launched again, putting another hundred and sixty thousand missiles into space. If they kept launching at the rate they were going there would be a million missiles hitting his force before he got more than those four hundred additional ships through.

  “Start launching at the enemy,” The Great Admiral ordered. “We might as well get ours off where they can build up to attack velocity. How long to turned the force around and get back to the barrier?”

  “Three and a half hours, my Lord.”

  “Great Admiral,” came a familiar voice out of the com as the face of the Emperor appeared before him.

  “Supreme Lord,” said the Admiral, getting out of his seat and dropping to one knee.

  “I have been apprised of your situation. You are to vacate that system as fast as possible. I want you to get those ships and crews back. They do us more good surviving to lead the next offensive, than being reduced to scrap in that system.”

  “I am sorry, Supreme Lord.”

  “I authorized this mission, Admiral,” said the Emperor. “I should have delayed until we had more ships, and hit both the frontier and their home systems with greater forces.”

  The Great Admiral thought for a moment. They could get into hyper before those missiles reached them, barely. From there they could transit for an hour or so, then jump back to normal space and deploy the gate. It would take the enemy force almost two days to get out to the barrier, and almost a day for any other forces to get within range. They could get their ships through the gate, but..

  “We will lose the wormhole, Supreme Lord.”

  “Then lose the damn thing. They’re valuable, but not more so than all of your ships and crews. So go ahead and retreat, by my command.”

  The holo died, and the Great Admiral, relief and shame warring with each other within him, turned to his Com Officer.

  “Give the order. All ships are to immediately begin deceleration. They are to head back to the barrier and jump. Now.”

  The Com Officer gave a head motion of acceptance, his expression one of relief. They would all live to fight another day. Which was really all they could accomplish at this point.

  * * *

  “They are leaving the New Moscow system, your Majesty,” said the Avian creature on the holo.

  “Thank you, Lord Grarakakak,” said Sean, bowing his head. “I am indebted to you.”

  “It was the least we could do, your Majesty. After all, we let you down in your hour of need.”

  Sean knew that was true, but he wasn’t about to say anything at this time. That could wait until they met again, to take up the business of the summit that had been interrupted by the Caca offensive.

  “I’m surprised that you came to the front yourself, my Lord.”

  “If the human ruler could do so, then I thought it was something I should do as well,” said the High Lord of the Elysium Empire. “But it is not something I wish to repeat.”


  And I don’t blame you there, thought the Emperor.

  “Then I will see you at the summit in a week.”

  “Is that enough time, your Majesty?” asked Grarakakak, bowing his own head.

  “Time is not on our side at the moment,” said Sean, knowing that he would have to get his grieving done in the allotted period. “We need to get things worked out before the damned Cacas strike again.”

  The High Lord bowed again, then the holo went off.

  “Get this ship down to wormhole transit speed as fast as you can, Captain,” the Emperor ordered the ship’s commanding officer. He would be going home, to see what had been done to his people. And to he and his wife.

  Epilogue

  JANUARY 9TH, 1003.

  The Supreme Emperor of the Ca’cadasan Empire, Jresstratta IV, stared at the holo plot of the Imperial Human Front, alternating that stare with a glare at the males present within the room. He looked down at the table, willing calm upon himself. No one in this room was to blame for the disaster. It had been a good plan. If they had taken out the station and the smaller structures in orbit around the black hole, they would have probably won the battle.

  We should have sent a larger force through the wormhole, he thought once again, closing his eyes for a moment. The male in charge of planning for the operations was at fault in underestimating the humans. That male would never make a mistake like that in the future. His fellow members of the Admiralty had made sure of that. And so we lose another of our more intelligent planners, thought the Emperor in regret. The male had been in error, but he would have learned from his mistake. There would be no learning now, no improvement.

  And it was my decision. No matter what advice was given, I made the final decision. We should have sent twice the force through, three times? They still didn’t know what happened, since no one had returned from the attack. In fact, they didn’t know what had happened at both targets. The strike at the enemy capital had gone awry when the wormhole had collapsed and the bomb ship had nothing to transit. They didn’t know how much damage the rest of the attack had done. Surely some, maybe a lot. But not enough.

  And the attack on the wormhole generating station? Again, they had done some damage, as detailed in the messages that had come through the deployed wormhole prior to all com ceasing. The bomb ship had gone through, and the explosion that came back-blasting through the wormhole had shown that the reaction of wormhole through wormhole had occurred. But as far as they could tell it had not done the job. Why? There was no way to know at this time. Maybe if their agents in the human Empire could find out they might know, and then could adjust their plan. Though he didn’t believe the same plan would work on a second attempt. The humans would be warned; they would be ready for it.

  “Can we attack them with a large force?” asked one of the males in the chamber. “Maybe send a battle fleet into their space.”

  “That will only be possible when we have defeated their fleet on their frontier,” replied another male. “Anything else we push through will be tracked down and destroyed before it reaches their core systems.”

  The Emperor gave a head motion of agreement. Early in the war they might have pushed their fleet through. In fact, they had hit a few of the core systems of the humans. Now, with their wormhole gates, the humans could shift large fleets from system to system. Any heavily populated system the Ca’cadasans attacked would immediately have the bulk of the human home fleet flooding into the inner system.

  “We should have waited until we had a larger force at the frontier,” said another male.

  The Emperor glared at the male for making such an obvious point. But he had agreed with that decision, so it rested on his shoulders. The Ca’cadasan fleet was widely scattered around the borders of the Empire. They were there to expand the Empire, moving in on other species as soon as they were discovered and adding them to the community. A large percentage of the fleet was scattered throughout Imperial space, holding down the species that might try to rebel. It took time to gather those forces. Six months in some cases to reach a conquest fleet, then another six months to get them back to the capital. What they had gathered would have been a sufficient force to defeat the humans if the attack on the wormhole generating station had succeeded. When it didn’t, the force was insufficient.

  “We will have another force in place within three months,” said the Supreme Grand Admiral, the male in overall charge of the fleet. “And I believe that we have enough of a force in that border of the Empire to stop what the humans have left from pushing into our space.”

  “I want the next attack force double the size of the one that went in this time,” said the Emperor, his glare taking in every male in the room. “With as many wormholes as we can place on them. And I want weapons like those the humans are using against us. Pre-accelerated missiles, high capacity particle beams. What they have, I want.”

  “It will take time, Supreme Lord,” answered a male who led military R&D.

  “And the sooner we start, the sooner we will have them,” growled Jresstratta, sending the male a glare that made him look away. “I am tired of excuses. If the humans can do it, we can also. So if we find that they are using something successfully against us, I want it.”

  “The defensive battle on the Klavarta front was successful, Supreme Lord,” said the Supreme Admiral, trying to change the subject. “And our fleet is in pursuit into their space.”

  “Which is all well and good, Supreme Admiral,” said the Emperor, turning a baleful eye on the officer. “But they are not our biggest problem. These damned humans, with their wormhole technology, are the greatest threat to the Empire we have ever faced.”

  “Might I remind my Supreme Lord that we now have wormholes as well,” said the Supreme Admiral.

  “And they have more of them,” roared the Emperor, slamming all four fists on the table. “And they will continue to have more of them, many more, for years to come.” He stood and looked around the room, again making eye contact with every male. “We need to think. We need to plan ahead of time, and not just rush into things. I want every one of you to start using your minds.”

  The males stared at him with expressions of disbelief. They are typical males of our species, thought the Emperor. All hormones and glands overriding the higher functions. At that moment the Emperor felt the hopelessness of his situation. His people were strong and fierce, and rash and unthinking. They really didn’t deserve their position in the Galaxy, and if not for luck and timing, they would just have been subjects of another species.

  But they are my people, he thought, turning and walking away from the table, feeling the silent eyes on his back. I must do everything I can to assure that we retain primacy.

  * * *

  “I want my city restored,” said Sean, staring out of the window of the aircar. They were passing over the downtown region, where the stumps of buildings that had towered kilometers into the air now dominated a nightmare landscape. To one side, near the river, was the remains of the Imperial Stadium, home to some of the most successful sports teams on the planet. No one would be using it for some time.

  “It will take a lot of time and effort, your Majesty,” said the mayor of the city, Lord Tyrell Swofford, sitting across from him in the passenger compartment of the car. “I understand that the Empire has other priorities at this time, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

  A soft hand squeezed Sean’s, and he looked for a moment at his wife, sitting silently by his side. Their reunion had been strained at first. Accusations had flown from both sides, the things they needed to say at the moment. Until both had made peace with the fact that Sean being in the city would have made no difference either way. Glenn was back at the Imperial Retreat, being treated like a precious porcelain doll by the Secret Service. They still had much grief to work through, but now was the time to act their parts as the figureheads of the Empire.

  “Yes, we have other priorities,” said Sean, looking back at the Mayo
r. “But this is the heart of the Empire, and I will not have it remain a ruin.”

  The city wasn’t quite a ruin. Almost seventy percent of it was untouched, and about ten percent had only been lightly damage. The twenty percent that had been hit hard though? It looked like a warzone, which was exactly what it had been.

  “What’s the total casualty figure, my Lord?” asked Jennifer, looking out the window and wincing.

  “We may not know for weeks yet, your Majesty, but we know at least two hundred and seventy million lost their lives.”

  Jennifer winced again. Sean knew how she felt, because he had the same feeling. The total for the entire planet was just under three hundred million. A drop in the bucket compared to the twenty billion or so that had been killed in this war. Sean didn’t like thinking that way. The human polities considered all sentient life precious, unlike their enemies. That was their largest divergence of philosophy. But it was damned difficult to think in terms of millions and billions, and summon up the energy to grieve for all of them.

  “Every intact hospital in the city is packed to overflowing,” continued the Mayor, looking at the Imperial couple with red rimmed eyes. “And every other city on the planet.”

  And a number of the wounded from the Donut and Central Docks were also flowing to Jewel. Most were going through the wormholes to other worlds. What it came down to was modern society was not ready to handle such numbers of casualties. People in the Empire lived longer and were healthier than at any time in human history. There were no more genetic diseases, and nanotech could cure any contagion, including the unknown alien variety. Healing was accomplished quickly and easily. Even the dead could be brought back to life if treated in time, and the injuries not too severe. But still, when people were caught in the middle of a battle, there were a lot of injuries that required more extensive treatment, like limb and organ regrowth.

  “I know this is a hard time for the both of you,” said the Lord Mayor in a hushed voice, looking down at the floor. “And I am sorry to intrude on your grief.”