The Lost Earth (Lost Starship Series Book 7)

by Vaughn Heppner

  Golden Ural did not give the Swarm ships such an opportunity. The cone broke apart, firing at new missiles accelerating at them. As the star cruisers did this, they rotated so their nosecones aimed inward. Seconds later, the silvery vessels began to engage their star-drive jumps, leaping in a bound to the next gas giant one and a half billion kilometers away. That put them well out of the conflict for the moment.

  Unfortunately, not all the star drives worked as advertised. Three malfunctioned for various reasons and did not jump. On those, the captains fought until masses of Swarm missiles detonated the star cruisers one by one.

  Two other star cruisers failed to appear in empty space. Perhaps they jumped into the gas giant. Perhaps they jumped somewhere else completely. Whatever the case, they were gone.

  Despite a magnificent display of martial power, the New Men had just lost five of their precious star cruisers.

  At the other edge of the Swarm mass, Star Watch deployed the bulk of their capital ships. They did not operate in a cone or any other unitary formation. Instead, the ships worked in teams of three or more, always hitting Swarm vessels with a superior number of ships and beams.

  The Conqueror-class battleships had heavier and longer-ranged beams than Swarm lasers. They pounded the bug vessels, backed up, and pounded the enemy ships more.

  The Star Watch, Windsor League and former Wahhabi ships did not perform as flawlessly as the New Men vessels. Still, there were more of them. Most were bigger than star cruisers, with heavier armor of the new kind.

  For a longer duration, the human ships fought the oncoming edge of the Swarm. Unfortunately, beam coils burned out on some. On others, fueling lines erupted or cores overloaded.

  Soon, those human ships that did not have jump drives accelerated away, racing for the next line of debris-hidden missiles and robotic laser satellites.

  The bigger and better ships fought on to cover the retreat, pouring heavy fire at the Swarm vessels. Now, though, missiles and Swarm lasers began to hit.

  A Conqueror-class battleship lost its drive power. Swarm missiles concentrated on it. Although it lashed out with its disrupter beam, it proved too little. The ant-like missile mass rushed in and finally blew the battleship apart.

  “Pull out,” Fletcher ordered on a broad-beam message. “Everyone, pull out now.”

  The ship captains heard the message and most obeyed. Three could not, and those ships died under the continuous Swarm advance.

  As the great horde of invaders continued moving through built-up inertia, they set accelerating missiles ahead of them at the visibly retreating human ships. It was a race, and too many of the human ships lost it.

  A day later, a quarter of those ships had been obliterated by the Swarm.

  At that point, the next line of debris-hidden missiles and laser satellites began to thicken and engage the forward Swarm commanders. As the new missile barrage advanced against the horde, the surviving human ships raced for various Laumer Points.

  Admiral Fletcher and Golden Ural held a tight-beam conference. Their ships had maneuvered and jumped near each other.

  “How are your men holding up?” Fletcher asked.

  The golden-skinned Ural’s face never changed expression. Yet, it seemed as if his features stiffened in some manner.

  “The…New Men will fight,” Ural said.

  Fletcher had never gotten used to working with the New Men. Even as allies, he found their arrogance maddening. He wished he could have been advancing on the Throne World. To work with these bastards—

  “The Swarm are relentless,” Ural said. “Incidentally, you have fought better than many of my captains expected.”

  If Ural thought Fletcher was going to thank him for such a backhanded compliment, the New Man had another thing coming.

  “It is as I expected, however,” Ural said. “Without a star drive, ships will perish in too great of numbers. I have made the calculations. With our combined forces, we have inflicted less than one hundred to one losses. That hardly dents the enemy horde. Without your masses of preset missiles, I do not believe we will continue to inflict such lopsided casualties against the Swarm.”

  “You’re right about that,” Fletcher said. “We’ve already expended half our missiles, a supply that took us over a year to gather. If we’d thought this battle was going to be like the English facing the Spanish Armada, we had another—”

  “Excuse me,” Ural said, interrupting. The lean New Man had cocked his head. “Are you referring to the ancient battle in 1588 A.D.?”

  “Yes,” Fletcher said.

  “The Spanish Armada…how are the Swarm possibly like them?”

  “The Spanish Armada sailed against England. The Spanish had to carry all their shot and gunpowder aboard their ships with them. The English fought close to their ports. So, once the English ships ran out of shot and gunpowder, they sailed back into port and got more, or supply ships brought them more. The Spanish soon had to conserve their shot because they’d run too low too quickly and couldn’t resupply.”

  “I see, I see,” Ural said. “The Swarm have conserved nothing as they battle us. They expend missiles even more prodigiously than we do.”

  “That’s my point,” Fletcher said. “The Swarm…” He shook his head.

  “The battle has just begun,” Ural said. “You must not lose heart.”

  “You’ll lose it before I do,” Fletcher spat angrily.

  Ural’s strange eyes seemed to swirl with something. He did not retort, though, but held his tongue.

  I need them, Fletcher reminded himself. Humanity needs the New Men. It was a galling admission, but true nonetheless. Thus, Fletcher swallowed his distaste. It was likely Ural did the same. The two of them began to discuss the next phase of battle…

  ***

  The Battle of Tau Ceti lasted three weeks of fighting, maneuvering, repairing, sustaining, plotting, and more executing.

  That wore the men down, those who survived. Too many Star Watch vessels had exploded for one reason or another. The majority of those died to enemy missiles. The next highest category of attrition was some kind of engine or core failure. The sustained firing took a toll on far too many vessels. The last category was Swarm lasers. The human ships seldom allowed themselves to get caught close enough, or for long enough, to take the deadly laser fire.

  By far, the largest number of ship losses came in the lesser vessels, those without star drive jump capability. The greatest number of Swarm losses were from their scout vessels.

  At the end of the three weeks, Fletcher gave the order to retreat full scale. All the carriers had survived because he hadn’t thrown any fold fighters into the mix. That would be for the toe-to-toe slugging matches if it came to that.

  And the admiral had a bad feeling it would come to that before humanity was ready for it.

  Fletcher held a short briefing aboard his flagship with his tactical team. The team told him they had inflicted 54 to 1 losses against the enemy. That was in terms of ship losses. Star Watch had lost 241 ships and inflicted a little over 13,000 kills against the vast armada of 80,000 warships.

  The New Men had done better. They had slaughtered 86 to 1 loss, having seen 33 of their star cruisers destroyed or lost during the conflict. But as good as the ratio looked, they had only annihilated 3000 enemy ships.

  The smaller number was due to having almost no New Man missiles in the system. A large majority of Star Watch’s kills had come from the incredible number of missiles and laser satellites stuffed into the system.

  Altogether, the Allied Fleet had destroyed nearly 16,000 enemy vessels and lost 274 warships.

  In the war of averages, humanity in all its forms was losing the battle for survival. At this rate, the bugs would have ships left after the New Men and Star Watch had lost everything. The Swarm could afford these staggering losses and still come out victorious.

  “We fought better than we’ve ever done before,” Fletcher told the Lord High Admiral. “But that still me
ans we didn’t fight good enough to win.”

  Golden Ural had a different conversation with Lord Drakos. The two of them had just retreated from the Tau Ceti System.

  “Did you learn anything?” Drakos asked from a screen.

  Ural nodded. “The mission was a success.”

  “And?” Drakos asked.

  “We’ve captured bugs, a saucer-shaped ship of them. It will take time for our scientists to figure out Swarm command structure and ranks.”

  “We need something now, Commander,” Drakos said.

  “I know,” Ural admitted.

  Several hours ago, three cloaked star cruisers had slipped in behind the vast enemy formation. They had moved to a clot of the saucer-shaped vessels. Ural had noticed earlier that the bugs kept those ships well out of the fighting. Those ships seemed quite different compared to the other Swarm vessels. He wanted to know why. Even better, he’d seen an opportunity to learn more about the enemy.

  If they were going to defeat the Swarm, they had to outwit them. The only way they could do that was by knowing more about the bugs.

  Like wolves prowling a giant herd, the cloaked star cruisers had moved against a straggler. They had employed a stasis field, freezing the saucer-shaped vessel. They’d sent special commandos and filled the ship with knockout gas. Afterward, the cloaked ships used tractor beams, locked onto the Swarm vessel and jumped with it in tow.

  Even now, scientists began to dissect and study the bugs and attempt to learn their alien language.

  “I hope you’re not going to share our hard won knowledge with the sub-men,” Drakos said, his features stiff with displeasure.

  “I see no reason to do so,” Ural said. What he meant was that he did not see a reason yet. There might come a time when he would tell Admiral Fletcher, but he wasn’t going to tell the hardliner Drakos that.

  Drakos seemed to delight in the hidden information. Even so, he cut the connection soon thereafter.

  Ural studied a manifest. It surprised him to learn the saucer-shaped vessel had star-drive jump technology. That was very interesting, very interesting indeed.

  Why hadn’t the bugs used that tech during the battle? Did it mean the bugs were too stupid to use star-drive tech?

  Ural shook his head. He didn’t know, but he planned to find out. They were going to lose the war at this rate, and that he could not stomach.

  -13-

  The Swarm Fleet had taken twenty percent losses while inflicting a miniscule number of kills against the human ships.

  The Reigning Supreme could not understand it and she raged at her assault leaders. How could they have devised such an inefficient attack schedule? The assault leaders gave her unsatisfactory answers. In desperation, she remembered the offensive Thrax. Despite her dislike at the prospect, she summoned the hybrid to the command chamber.

  ***

  Thrax lowered himself before the Reigning Supreme. Unlike last time he’d been here, there were no assault leaders present. He knew that meant something. What he didn’t know was if that was good or bad. He assumed bad but pretended it was good.

  “I hurried here as soon I received word,” Thrax said.

  “What else would you have done?” the Reigning Supreme demanded.

  She sounded upset. Thrax remembered he was supposed to have let her speak first. If he was going to—

  “Do I have your attention, Technical Assistant?”

  “Most assuredly,” he said.

  “Your eyes glazed over like a worker thinking of its after-work treat.”

  Thrax almost spoke again. Just in time, he kept his clackers from moving.

  “Better,” AX-29 said. “Better… Thrax, I have a dilemma. Surely you have seen the ratios of destruction.”

  Thrax had, but he wasn’t going to admit to it just in case this was a test.

  “Well?” she demanded. “Have you seen the ratios or not?”

  “I have not,” he lied.

  “But I thought…” She waved her tiny appendages under her vast bulk. Polishers buffed her more vigorously. Feeders thrust tubes at her.

  “No! Not yet,” she said in a miff. “I want to savor the mush, and I can’t do that seeing this freak twitching before me.”

  Thrax was certain this was it for him. She must have convened this meeting to inform him—

  “Technical Assistant, didn’t you hear my question?”

  “I’m sorry, no,” Thrax admitted. She had just spoken and he hadn’t been paying attention.

  “I asked why you haven’t seen the reports. I sent them to you.”

  “Oh, those ratios,” Thrax said. “Yes, yes, I forgot that—”

  “How are you supposed to help me when you can’t even understand simple questions?”

  “Help you?” asked Thrax.

  The vast Reigning Supreme grew quiet as she studied Thrax. Finally, she sighed.

  “I have grown weary of the timid and unimaginative advice of the assault leaders. I miss the Assault Master. Now, there was a war thinker. He would have known what to do. It was a shame the soldiers had to destroy him. Perhaps…well, never mind. It doesn’t matter now. We have what we have, and that is the crux of the problem.”

  Thrax waited as his hope rose. Perhaps his guile was going to pay off after all.

  “I am in a unique situation,” the Reigning Supreme said. “I have hopped across the spiral arm, leaving my supply base two thousand light-years behind. We are effectively cut off from any reinforcements.”

  “That was always going to be the case,” Thrax said.

  “Don’t you think I know that?” she shouted. “We have such a tiny fleet with which to conquer such a vast area. What I don’t understand is why the humans only used such a small portion of their fleets against us.”

  Thrax cocked his head.

  “What does that mean?” she asked. “Do you disagree with the analysis?”

  “The humans will not have anything like the mass we do,” Thrax said.

  “Explain that?”

  “We likely faced the massed might of the human star fleets.”

  “That is ridiculous,” the Reigning Supreme said. “You saw the extent of their missile barrage. That was close to Imperial norms. Certainly that was how the Chitin spaceships fought us.”

  “Chitins are insectoid creatures,” Thrax said. “Mammals simply cannot marshal mass like we or the Chitins are able to do.”

  “Do you truly consider yourself a Swarm creature?” AX-29 asked, changing the tone of her question.

  “Yes,” Thrax said. What else could he say?

  “What a concept,” she said. “And yet, I think I have need of your hybrid outlook. The staggering losses for the pinprick enemy kills have shaken my belief in eventual victory. I would not have summoned you otherwise.”

  Thrax was stunned at this reversal of fate. He could not believe it. If he hadn’t destroyed the Golden Nexus this never would have happened.

  “Why do you preen yourself at this news?” she asked.

  “I believe there is a way to understand the humans better,” Thrax said hastily.

  “Why would we do that?”

  “In order to exploit one of their weaknesses,” he said.

  “I suspect you have other reasons.”

  “I do,” he said.

  “Explain them.”

  “We must discover the local wormhole routes,” Thrax said. “We must fully understand their military capabilities. I have studied the Chitin campaign. Great thought went into our latest victory against them.”

  “You are boasting,” she said. “The plan was yours.”

  “Yes, I suppose it was,” Thrax said, as if surprised.

  The Reigning Supreme eyed him again, growing silent. Could she have made a mistake earlier concerning Thrax? That seemed inconceivable. And yet, she had lost twenty percent of the invasion fleet. That was a monstrous loss for such little gain.

  “Perhaps normative Imperial actions are not the correct procedure in my si
tuation,” the Reigning Supreme said.

  Thrax wanted to agree, but waited instead. He could not believe this stroke of luck. He must exploit this to the best of his ability.

  “Yes…” she said. “I am assigning you a new task. You are to gather a landing army. You will collect Hive Master-level humans and study them. You will bring me these wormhole charts. I also want to know why the humans have thrown so few spaceships into this battle. Once I discover that…I shall proceed with the next phase of the operation.”

  “I would like to suggest one other possibility,” Thrax said.

  “I give you leave to speak,” she said.

  “Perhaps we could begin to set up production centers,” he said. “We expended a great quantity of missiles last battle. It would behoove us to replenish what we can while we may.”

  “Now I see why I summoned you, Commander.”

  “What?” he asked, surprised.

  “Yes,” she said. “I am elevating you from Technical Assistant to your former rank of Commander. Now go. Discover these things for me.”

  Swelling with pride, Thrax turned and headed away.

  Several minutes later, the Reigning Supreme motioned her soldiers. They carried a pallet with a bloated chief Assault Leader upon it.

  “Did you listen to our talk?” the Reigning Supreme asked.

  “Yes,” the Assault Leader said.

  “Do you think he believed me?” she asked.

  “All the signs of his hybrid nature point to that.”

  “I think you are correct. I found the experience befouling in the extreme.”

  “He is a strange being that can dare to call himself Swarm.”

  “I found that insulting,” AX-29 said. “Still, I do not understand how Thrax could have brought harm to our fleet.”

  “I know that it is almost impossible to fathom,” the Assault Leader said. “But Thrax is cunning. He has the qualities of a Hive Master.”

  “I would have thought that preposterous seven days ago,” the Reigning Supreme said. “Now, I have begun to wonder. If you are correct about this…I now elevate you to the Assault Master position.”

  The newly elevated Assault Master bowed low on the spongy deck.