The Lost Fleet: Oblivion's Light: A Slaver Wars Novel

by Raymond L. Weil

  “Even if it lasts for six months?” asked Jeremy, not quite sure where his wife was coming from.

  “Yes, even six months,” Kelsey responded stubbornly. “You know with the long life drugs the Federation has our lives are much longer now than back in the twenty-first century. Andram says that by applying some Alton science to our own long life drugs a human could easily live to see the ripe old age of two hundred. We’ve all been taking the drugs since we awoke from cryosleep. You still look as if you’re in your late twenties or early thirties. The rest of us are the same way. Six months with the lifespans we have ahead of us is not that big of a deal.”

  “Katie feels the same way?” asked Jeremy, reaching out and taking his wife’s hand. He saw the anger in her eyes slowly start to fade.

  “Yes,” Kelsey answered. “If the Distant Horizon goes exploring, we want to be on it. After all, that was one of the things we designed her for.”

  “I’ll speak to Rear Admiral Barnes,” promised Jeremy. He also knew Kevin was going to be highly upset if their wives went on this mission. However, Jeremy wasn’t sure he could prevent it. Both were very determined women and used to having their way.

  “Okay,” Kelsey replied in a meeker voice. “I promised Katie and Angela we would meet them for dinner. Katie has found a new Chinese restaurant she wants to try out.”

  “Chinese food,” commented Jeremy, a little bit surprised.

  He knew the relief fleets had brought numerous plants and seeds with them when they came to the Triangulum Galaxy. They had brought sperm and eggs for a number of species including cattle, sheep, pigs, and even horses. There were also large hatcheries for several species of fish common on Earth. Massive fish growing ponds and lakes had been set up and were routinely harvested. In the two years since the relief fleets had arrived, the food available was now very close to what could be found in the Federation.

  “Yes, Chinese food,” Kelsey answered. “I have a vehicle waiting and it will take us to the restaurant where the others are waiting.”

  Jeremy nodded. He strongly suspected the topic of the Distant Horizon’s impending mission would probably come up during the meal. For some reason, he suddenly wasn’t very hungry.

  Chapter Four

  Admiral Race Tolsen stood in front of Fleet Admiral Nagumo with a straight face. It had been two years since the remarkable defeat of the Simulins at the galactic core. Even so, he had gone through a long court-martial at the insistence of Admiral Korrel and had been reassigned to a command position in the New Tellus System aboard one of large orbiting shipyards. While he had won a stunning victory over the enemy, he’d done so by disobeying direct orders from the Federation Council. Admiral Korrel had made it plain that, in his opinion, Race had endangered the entire Federation by his refusal to destroy the Capacitor Stations when ordered to do so. Only the testimony of former Fleet Admiral Hedon Streth, Fleet Admiral Nagumo, and several important Federation senators had saved Race’s career.

  “I have a new assignment for you,” announced Admiral Nagumo, gesturing for Race to take a seat in front of the desk.

  Race sat down and looked at the fleet admiral expectedly. The last two years had been extremely hard. Losing command of the WarHawk and Third Fleet had been devastating, and he had seriously considered resigning from the fleet.

  Admiral Nagumo gazed at Race for several long moments before speaking. “At your court-martial I commended you for your thinking and bravery in the face of an overwhelming enemy. The strategy you used against the Simulins was brilliant and brought about one of the biggest victories in fleet history.”

  “They wouldn’t listen,” replied Race with a trace of bitterness in his voice, recalling the grueling days of the court-martial. “What we did prevented the Simulins from ever attacking our galaxy in force again.”

  “Perhaps,” answered Nagumo, his eyes peering sharply at Race. “You should know that recent reports from some of the outlying areas have indicated the Simulins have returned to our galaxy.”

  Race’s eyes grew wide at this announcement. “How large of a force?” Race was concerned this might be the start of a massive invasion if the Simulins had managed to find the power to open up an intergalactic vortex away from the galactic center.

  “Just a few ships,” replied Admiral Nagumo, tapping a report on his paper-strewn desk. “There have been a number of unconfirmed sightings of mysterious ships. We even have a few photos and our intelligence people have positively identified them as Simulin.”

  “What does the council say about this?”

  “Nothing,” Nagumo responded with a deep frown appearing on his face. “I haven’t told them yet.”

  “Is there a reason for that?”

  “Yes,” the fleet admiral replied with a grave look on his face. “Our intelligence people believe the Simulins are searching for something of significance in our galaxy.”

  “What?” Race couldn’t imagine what the Simulins would be looking for unless it was Astral. Astral was the Altons’ home world at the galactic center and where the science and history of tens of thousands of worlds were stored in the massive computers beneath the City of Light and the Simulins should know where Astral was. It was where they had gone and changed the AIs programming in the master Codex.

  “This,” responded Nagumo, opening up a red folder on his desk marked Top Secret and sliding a photo across to Race.

  Race picked up the photo and his blood turned cold. He felt a chill run down his back. “Is this what I think it is?” The photo was of a massive metallic object that dwarfed the battleship pictured beside it.

  “It’s a computer generated photo of what we think they’re hunting for,” Nagumo said. “It’s a Dyson Sphere.”

  “Impossible,” sputtered Race, shaking his head in denial. “Who could build such a thing? Not even the Altons have the ability to build such an object.”

  Nagumo reached inside the red folder and handed Race several pages covered in writing. “I received this immediately after your court-martial from former Fleet Admiral Hedon Streth. He claimed that somewhere in our galaxy, probably close or inside the galactic core was a Dyson Sphere. If the Simulins manage to find this construct they may once more be able to open large intergalactic vortices into our galaxy and invade in substantial numbers.”

  “More of his premonitions,” muttered Race forlornly. He recalled how Fleet Admiral Streth’s premonitions had taken him to the galactic core and indirectly caused him to lose command of his fleet. “It seems as if every time he has one it ends in a disaster.”

  “I’m not sure I believe in that premonition nonsense,” Nagumo said with a deep sigh. “However, the majority of the people on Ceres, New Tellus, and New Providence do and they all believe in Fleet Admiral Hedon Streth, the savior of the human race. How do I go against a living legend?”

  “So what do we do?” Race knew exactly the situation the fleet admiral was in. Even though Admiral Streth was no longer in the active fleet, people still listened very attentively when he spoke.

  “I wasn’t the only one to receive this report,” continued the fleet admiral in a displeased voice. “Senator Arden of New Providence, Senator Karnes of New Tellus, Governor Barnes of Ceres, and Ambassador Tureen of the Altons also were recipients. There was also a copy sent to you, which I intercepted. I couldn’t risk this knowledge coming out in your court-martial.”

  Race was silent for several moments as he mulled over what the fleet admiral had just told him. “How do we find this thing if it exists?” he asked, as he read more of what Fleet Admiral Streth had written. If he hadn’t known the former fleet admiral, he would just dismiss it as the ramblings of a mad man. “It looks to me as if we may be going out searching for a myth.”

  “It seems there may be some truth to what Admiral Streth has said,” admitted Nagumo with a deep sigh. “Shortly after receiving this report Ambassador Tureen asked for a meeting with me. He swore me to secrecy and then proceeded to tell me a secret that only
the Altons are aware of.”

  “Crap!” muttered Race. If the Altons were involved, this had suddenly gotten much bigger. “What did he say?”

  “It seems that million of years ago there was another highly intelligent race in our galaxy. The Altons found the ruins of their cities on hundreds of worlds in the early days of their explorations. This was back before they created the AIs. Ambassador Tureen claims that if the rumors of the Dyson Sphere are true, these Originators are the ones who would have built it.”

  “Originators,” repeated Race, looking intently at Nagumo. “Why has no one else mentioned these ruins? If there are ruins on hundreds of worlds, we should have heard about them by now. Not even the Hocklyns could have kept something that big a secret.”

  “That’s where the problem lies,” spoke Fleet Admiral Nagumo with a look of deep concern. “All of these worlds are in Shari space and you know what that means.”

  “We can’t get to them,” responded Race, realizing the magnitude of the problem. If the Federation was to send a fleet into Shari space and it was discovered, then it could cause the Shari to go to war with the Federation and its allies. “So what do we do?”

  Nagumo drew in a deep breath and pulled out another sheet of paper from the red folder. “Race, I need you to sign this form.”

  “What is it?” asked Race, reaching forward and picking the paper up. His eyes suddenly widened sharply seeing that it was his discharge papers from the fleet. “I don’t understand.”

  “It’s not what it looks like,” said Nagumo, reaching for a pen. “I’m reassigning you to fleet intelligence and its Special Ops division. It’s top secret and very few people even know it exists. For anyone on the council, it will appear as if you have been dismissed from the fleet. However, you will retain your rank of admiral and will report directly to me and the commander of the Special Ops division when needed.”

  “For what purpose is this being done?” asked Race suspiciously. The fleet had been his life; he didn’t want to leave it! For some reason he felt as if the long entangling arms of former Fleet Admiral Streth were once more reaching out for him.

  “You’re going to the new Alton home world of Albania to take command of a fleet,” Nagumo replied with a grin. “A fleet of special vessels that have been built by the Altons for one purpose and one purpose only: to find this Dyson Sphere.”

  “I’m going into Shari space?”

  “Yes,” Nagumo replied with a nod. “That’s one reason for the resignation. If you’re captured or identified, we’ll claim you’re not a part of our military and entered their space with out the permission of the fleet. It might just be enough to prevent a war.”

  “What about the crews of these ships, where did they come from?”

  “All volunteers,” Nagumo answered. “About one-third of the crews will be Altons with a large number of scientists and technicians. The rest will be made up of fleet personnel who over the last six months, for one reason or another, have either resigned or been dismissed. A lot of work has been done by the Special Ops people to make sure everything will look to be on the up and up.”

  “It will still be a risk,” responded Race, thinking about the new responsibility he was being handed. Also, what would his parents and sister think when they heard he had resigned from the fleet? His sister was the commanding officer of the battlecarrier Hera.

  “We can’t let the Simulins find this Dyson Sphere if it exists,” Admiral Nagumo replied. “What’s even more frightening is the fact the sphere might lie in Shari space and they might find it before we do.”

  “What if they do find it first?” asked Race. “What if we find this Dyson Sphere in Shari space with a Shari fleet in orbit?”

  “Then we go to war,” Fleet Admiral Nagumo spoke in a heavy voice. “We move in a fleet large enough to take control of the Dyson Sphere. We can’t let it fall into Shari hands. There will be a fleet standing by close to Shari space just in case it’s needed. You will be provided with an encrypted code to summon that fleet. But think very hard before you use it as it will no doubt lead to another galactic war.”

  “I will,” promised Race as with shaking hands he signed the resignation paper. “When do I leave?”

  “Tomorrow,” answered Nagumo. “With the confirmed presence of Simulin warships in our galaxy, we can’t wait any longer.”

  “What if we’re found in Shari space, do we put up a fight?”

  “Use your best judgment,” replied Nagumo and then he added, “If any of your people are captured, the Federation government will disavow any knowledge of you or your ships. No one but a select few are even aware of the mission you’re being sent off on.”

  “What about my command crew?” Race asked. He would need a well-trained and dependable command group to pull this off.

  “They’re already at Albania,” Nagumo responded.

  Race nodded his acceptance. It would have been nice to have his old crew from the WarHawk for this mission.

  “An Alton passenger ship is due to leave New Tellus tomorrow morning,” Nagumo continued. “I have made arrangements for you to be on it.”

  “Then I’d better get packed,” answered Race, as he stood to leave. He paused and then gazed at Fleet Admiral Nagumo. “Thank you, sir, for being there for me, it really meant a lot.” Then turning, Race walked to the door and opening it left the fleet admiral.

  -

  Shortly after Admiral Tolsen departed, the door opened again and a middle-aged woman entered. Senator Amy Karnes seemed to have aged little over the years due to the advanced prolong life drugs available in the Federation.

  “Did he accept the mission?”

  “Of course he did,” answered Fleet Admiral Nagumo. “He’s been itching to get off that shipyard since he was assigned to it. My biggest fear was that he would resign before the fleet was ready.”

  “Did you tell him everything?” she asked with her eyes focusing steadily on the fleet admiral.

  “No, not quite everything,” Nagumo admitted with a deep sigh. “He doesn’t know how serious this Simulin situation is becoming. If they are indeed searching for this Dyson Sphere than the likelihood of him encountering them is very high. There have been some unconfirmed reports of several fleet actions by the Shari against Simulin vessels in their space.”

  “They’re more active in Shari space and probably are more knowledgeable of what they’re searching for than we are,” Amy said as she sat down. “We can’t let the Shari or the Simulins find and take control of the Dyson Sphere; it could shift the power base away from the Federation and the Altons.

  “That’s why we have this new fleet,” replied Nagumo, leaning back in his chair. “He will have the most advanced and powerful ships possible. The Altons put everything they have into them and even called in a few of the Federations’ brightest engineers and scientists to help in the designs.”

  “Did you tell Admiral Tolsen anything about these ships?”

  “No,” Nagumo said with a smile. “I’ll let it be a surprise.”

  -

  Early the next morning, Race was at one of New Tellus Station’s main docking ports waiting to board the Alton passenger ship LeLath. It was a thousand-meter vessel steeped in luxury, as that was the only way most Altons were willing to travel. The Altons were a very pacifist race for the most part with only a small fraction of their population willing to join the military. A far greater portion were interested in peaceful exploration and the expansion of their vast knowledge base.

  Looking around, Race noticed a few other humans waiting to board as well as members of some of the alien races affiliated with the human led alliance and even others he wasn’t familiar with. There were a few Carethians as well as members of half a dozen other alien races. Race knew the Altons maintained a huge complex on Albania, which was heavily involved in uplifting the numerous former slave worlds of the Hocklyn Empire. It wasn’t unusual to see members of some of those races traveling to the complex for additional ins
truction as well as for help with the newer technologies the Altons were willing to share.

  Finally it was time to board and Race entered the ship. He wasn’t surprised to find humans dressed in ship uniforms explaining to the passengers where they needed to go. Most Alton ships, including some of their passenger liners and even their cargo ships, were partially crewed by humans from the Federation.

  “Mister Tolsen,” one of the female crewmembers said striding up to him. “I have your quarters ready and, if you would like, the captain of the ship has requested your presence in the Control Center to witness our departure.”

  “I would like that,” Race said with a friendly nod. The last time he had left the New Tellus System was to travel to Ceres where his parents lived. That had been over six months ago.

  “If you will follow me, I’ll show you where your quarters are located and then we’ll go up to the Control Center.”

  Race followed the young woman through the ship, admiring the large spacious corridors and taking note of the soft carpeting on the floor. Stopping in front of a door, Race was surprised to see it was made out of wood instead of metal. Everything was so much different from a warship.

  “Don’t worry,” the woman said with an understanding smile. “The ship does have an energy shield and there’s a protective metal door that will slide down over this one if the ship is damaged. The Altons prefer the aesthetics wood doors provide.”

  Going inside, Race wasn’t surprised to see it was a small suite of rooms though a little extravagant for his taste. He noticed his bags were already there. After a quick look around he followed the woman up to the Control Center where the captain of the ship was waiting for him.

  “Admiral Tolsen,” the Alton said, bowing respectfully. The captain was nearly seven feet tall and his skin was very pale with a slight blue tinge and the hair on top of his head, while thick, was a solid white.