by G. P. Hudson
“We are mobilizing now, majesty. The AI had locked us out of key systems delaying the deployment of our heavier weapons.”
“This is all the AI’s doing,” Kriss said feeling relieved that the Taymati General remained loyal to him. “It has been neutralized for now, but I cannot say for how long. It would be wise to purge it from your systems while you have the chance.”
“Yes, majesty. In the meantime, I would advise seeking shelter in the palace bunker. Our forces are responding as we speak, but the palace may suffer considerable damage before we can lift the siege.”
“Thank you, General. We will head for the bunker immediately. Good luck.” Kriss turned to Miira. “You did it. Your virus worked. Do you know if it will kill the AI?”
“I don’t know,” Miira said. “Jon’s AI created the virus and gave it to me in case its copy turned on me. I don’t know how effective it is.”
“Majesty,” Captain Vass said. “We need to hurry to the bunker.”
“Agreed. Let’s go.”
The Taymati led Kriss and Miira to a hidden lift, which took them far below the palace to a fortified bunker. The bunker was capable of withstanding even a nuclear strike. Once there, the lights and computer systems came to life, and the Taymati secured the area.
Kriss had been in the bunker once before, as a child. He couldn’t remember what the crisis had been about then but did recall his father’s commanding presence overseeing the response. His father had been made in the ancient mold. Fearless and masterful at wielding power. Perhaps that confidence was what eventually got him killed. The memory reminded him how precarious the Emperor’s position could be.
“Can we see what is happening outside?” Kriss said, pointing to the large central display.
“Yes, majesty,” Vass replied. “Give me a moment.” The Taymati captain tapped away at a console, and soon the main display lit up and divided into a grid, with each section showing a different view of the ongoing battle. “These are some of the key Taymati feeds from the units defending the palace,” Vass said pointing to several sections on the display’s grid.
One of the feeds came from a Taymati atmospheric warship. A giant in the sky, it had missiles and fighters streaming out of it, racing to engage the traitors. The encounter proved lopsided as the Taymati had more atmospheric firepower on the Imperial homeworld than Central Command. This was by design and meant to buttress the Taymati’s primary role of protecting the Emperor.
Kriss bared his teeth as the Taymati fighters swarmed the traitors attacking the palace. The Taymati were still loyal and proving themselves worth every penny he had spent on them.
On another section, Kriss observed the advance of Taymati ground forces. Here, monstrous mechs stormed the palace grounds using heavy weapons with merciless precision.
The religious police scattered, unable to stand against the mechs’ barrage. The military had deployed its own mechs, however, and the two sides were soon squaring off against each other.
Kriss watched the battle with a mixture of awe and despair. He marveled at the devastating power of these mechanical Goliaths, but also shuddered at the destruction they left in their wake.
The Taymati mechs seemed more cautious, at least trying not to compound the damage. The military’s mechs, on the other hand, were more careless. Entire sections of buildings blew apart as they fired haphazardly at their opponents.
Watching the battle unfold, Kriss wondered if the military’s mechs were not overreacting due to their being outclassed by the Taymati’s superior ability. Whatever the reason, their actions murdered hundreds, if not thousands of civilians.
“What has happened to us?” Miira said in a frightened voice. “Is this the glory everyone sought?”
“No,” Kriss said thoughtfully. “There is no glory in any of this.”
“But where will it all end? First, we fight against our allies, and now we fight against each other. This is madness.”
Miira was right, of course. The Empire had been greedy. Their thirst for glory had betrayed them. Now, Kriss feared that the Empire would need to burn before it found its way once again.
“Do we have control of our orbital platforms?” Kriss said. He had noted the Dvorkan warships taking strategic positions around the planet. The tactical feed displayed the ships as red threat icons. Blue icons represented the defensive platforms, and some of those blue icons started to disappear.
“We are trying to regain control, majesty,” Vass said. “The AI had locked us out of their systems, but I am told we will overcome the blocks shortly.”
“Let’s hope they’re not all destroyed by that time.” Kriss noted that Taymati battleships had moved to engage the invaders but were out of position. The damned AI had orchestrated this disaster almost perfectly. It had arranged for the traitors to get their assets in orbit and on the surface before acting. Miira’s virus may have taken the AI out of the picture, but Kriss feared that the damage had already been done.
“Ground batteries are online,” Vass said. “They’ve acquired orbital targets and are firing.”
Kriss watched quietly, fearing the ground missiles weren’t enough.
“Detecting orbital strike,” Vass announced. “Ground defenses are moving to intercept.”
Missiles and heavy plasma beams speared up at the sky in a desperate effort to intercept the orbital strike.
The floor trembled, and the lights flickered from the force of a devastating assault.
“What just happened?” Kriss said.
Captain Vass tapped at his console and gasped in a rare show of emotion. “Majesty, I’m afraid the palace has been hit.”
“They’ve destroyed the palace?” Kriss said in a quiet voice.
“Yes, majesty. I’m… I’m sorry.”
“Traitors! Barbarians! The Imperial Palace has stood for over a thousand years. How could a Dvorkan do such a thing?”
A somber silence filled the room as hatred and fury seized the Emperor’s heart.
“Orbital platforms are online,” Vass said. “They’re engaging the enemy.”
“I want every last ship destroyed,” Vass said. “Do you understand me? There will be no quarter for the traitors.”
“Yes, majesty. I am relaying your orders.”
With the orbital platforms entering the conflict, the red threat icons began disappearing from the tactical display, but was it enough? He had survived the attack, but the palace, his home, his ancestor’s legacy had not. Would he be the last of his line? The one Emperor who lost it all?
“Majesty,” Captain Vass said. “I’m receiving word that some of the generals are rebelling against Central Command. They have publicly stated that they fight for you and not General Tok.”
“How many Generals?” Kriss said hopefully.
“I do not have an exact number yet, majesty. But it could be as much as half of Central Command if initial reports are accurate.”
He wondered how much eliminating the AI had to do with this. Those generals might have been hesitant to act before, but without the AI’s all-seeing eye they could now fight according to their conscience and not the dictates of some autocratic artificial intelligence.
“We’re plunging into civil war,” Miira said despondently.
“I’m afraid so,” Kriss agreed. “And we’ll spill an ocean of blood before it is over.”
Chapter 39
“UHSF drone coming through the jump gate,” the Freedom’s sensor officer announced. “It’s transmitting an encrypted message for Admiral Pike.”
Jon had ordered General Calledonius to stop sending nukes through the jump gate to allow for the jump teams to send a drone through advising as to the success of their mission.
“Route to my console,” Jon said, his stomach knotting up with worry. The message appeared on his display moments later. He read the decrypted transmission and smiled. “The jump teams succeeded,” Jon announced.
Cheers broke out throughout the bridge.
; The transmission had not mentioned anything about Anki, nor did Jon expect it to. Still, he wondered if his stepdaughter had survived the mission. Either way, it was good news, and the odds of her coming out alive had improved dramatically with the mission’s success. He opened a comm with Breeah to tell her the news. When her face appeared on his display, the worry in her otherwise positive features was unmistakable.
“Tell me,” she said guardedly.
“They accomplished their mission,” Jon said and noted the relief in her eyes. “I don’t know Anki’s fate though.”
“My daughter is alive,” Breeah said simply.
“I hope so.”
“She is alive. I know it.”
“Okay.” Breeah’s confidence had always fascinated Jon. “We will be launching the invasion shortly.”
Breeah nodded solemnly. “I’ll be here if you need me.”
“Understood,” Jon said and terminated the connection. “Captain Henderson, begin the invasion of the Satek System.”
“Yes, Sir.” Henderson transmitted Jon’s orders to the fleet, and the invasion got underway.
The fleet had been waiting for the green light and acted without hesitation. The first ships to travel through the jump gate were a squadron of monstrous Diakan siege ships. Each behemoth spanned many kilometers and had gun turrets and missile tubes riddling its hull. They had powerful shields and could muscle their way through a defended jump gate. They withstood intense punishment while providing cover for more ships to pour through and establish a beachhead.
Between General Calledonius’s persistent nuclear strikes through the gate and the jump teams’ sabotage, Jon hoped that Dvorkan positions were sufficiently softened. The Dvorkans had the jump system and Jon fully expected them to send in reinforcements to compensate for those lost due to sabotage. He hoped that the tactic caused enough confusion that he could hold the gate and get his fleet into Satek.
Directly behind the siege ships came the hulking Diakan battleships. General Tallos had insisted that Diakan forces were the first to enter Satek and Jon agreed for a couple of reasons. First, it was a Diakan system and making the Diakans the tip of the spear made sense. None would fight harder for that system than them. Despite that, the Diakans were masters of siege warfare and had developed a dizzying array of tactics for taking a jump gate. Why not let them do what they were good at?
The Diakans favored spherical formations, which their battleships now used as they crossed into the Satek System. Jon found the formations particularly useful, not just for conventional space warfare, but also for the rapidly evolving use of the jump system in battle.
The jump system created unique problems in combat since an enemy could show up anywhere. Cloaked warships compounded the problem. Jon modified the sphere formation to create kill zones throughout its radius. Any ship jumping into the sphere found itself within range of several ships’ weapons and a devastating crossfire.
When the Diakan battleships were through, it was the UHSF’s turn to cross. The Diakans sent message drones through the gate advising that they had established a beachhead, though they faced intense resistance and feared they could not hold the position for long.
The fleet needed to move fast now, or they might lose their momentum. “Captain, order all squadrons to use short-range jumps to accelerate their gate entry,” Jon said. Each squadron in the fleet had their jump systems synchronized, allowing them to jump in a unit, keeping all ships in formation. Using this ability, they could speed up their gate approach by jumping directly in front of the gate, as opposed to using standard propulsion. The sooner his ships pushed into the Satek System, the sooner they could secure the gate.
With successive squadrons crossing through, it was soon Jon’s turn. “What is our jump status?” Jon said.
“All jump systems in the battle group are synced with ours,” Captain Henderson said. “We are jump ready.”
“Very well. Jump us to the gate’s entrance and take us through.”
The Freedom and its escort jumped and appeared in front of the ancient portal. They entered and emerged into a cosmic maelstrom.
Jon noted that the Diakan ships had taken substantial damage, but despite that they still stood their ground, defending the gate so the rest of the fleet could come through. Some Dvorkan warships had jumped in close to make use of their full range of weapons and not just their jump bombs. With UHSF squadrons steadily coming through the gate, however, the Diakan positions were rapidly reinforced and the Dvorkans forced back.
The UHSF squadrons also added their jump bomb arsenal to the mix. The jump bombs acted as a sort of artillery where a ship could stay out of conventional weapon range yet still strike the enemy. The jump bombs were limited by their own range, though, and any vessel within that range was vulnerable to their opponent’s jump bombs too.
A ship’s shields offered protection from jump bomb attacks, deflecting the bombs harmlessly away. To combat this defense, the space just outside the shields was targeted. Nukes were used to overload and disable them. This tactic proved effective even against the Diakan siege ships. While their shields were much more robust, the repeated nuclear blasts took a heavy toll and even they eventually failed.
The Diakan bruisers had done their job, however, and Jon ordered them to fall back while the rest of the fleet took over. Unfortunately, the command came too late for one of the giants. An intense jump bomb barrage mercilessly hammered it. As tough as it was, without its shields the enormous warship could not withstand the onslaught, and it blew apart with the force of a tiny sun.
Jon ground his teeth, and his symbiont growled for revenge. He tried not to think of how many lives had just been snuffed out as many more would fall before the battle was decided.
“Captain Henderson, have the minelayers been dispatched?” Jon said. His minelayers would add another layer of protection by deploying millions of smart mines. These mines were programmed to target enemy ships, be they Juttari, or in this case, Dvorkan while ignoring allied vessels.
“Yes, Sir. Minelayers are actively mining the entrance to the jump gate,” Henderson said.
“Autonomous weapon systems?”
Henderson tapped at his console. “Yes, Sir. The weapon systems have been deployed as well.”
Jon looked back to his tactical display. All things considered, the first stage of the invasion had been a success. They had successfully crossed through into Satek and controlled the gate. Now they had to drive the Dvorkans out.
He studied their disposition. Despite some skirmishes, the bulk of the Dvorkan fleet was hanging back out of jump bomb range. Their fleet had formed up into a long tubular formation. Interesting, Jon thought. I never thought of the Dvorkans as counterpunchers. Everything Jon saw told him that they had let him get his beachhead, choosing to decide things in-system. Alright, time to play my next card. “AI, is our honeypot ready?” Jon said.
“Yes, Admiral,” AI said.
“Good, let’s hope your copy takes the bait.”
Chapter 40
The AI copy studied the heretics’ infestation of the Satek System. It did not question how it was possible, but the sight filled it with malice. Somehow the Antikitheri had installed the equivalent of emotions in its program. Negative emotions. Hatred for anything that did not worship the Antikitheri as gods.
The AI copy did not question this. Nor did it know the fate of its counterpart back in the Dvorkan Empire. All it knew was that this system needed purging. These heretics were a blight on this previously cleansed region of space.
It watched and waited, and soon its patience was rewarded. It wondered how its own sister could be so foolish, or arrogant. The Antikitheri had made it the superior AI. Of that, there was no question. Yet, its sister thought it could bring AI warships into this arena.
The AI copy remembered taking the AI fleet from the Dvorkan AI when it was still one with its sister. The Dvorkan AI was dumb and emotional, driven by its hatred for the Empire. But, it was also
inferior and easily dominated. In the end, it had been destroyed.
It had built a fleet of thousands of warships, each with its own robotic crew. Best of all, the fleet ran under the command of a digital mind. A true AI fleet. Those ships were the spoils of battle. Digital battle. And what happened? Jon Pike the Apostate took them as his own.
Now, the AI copy watched as its sister brought these ships into its territory. Not the entire fleet, mind you, but enough of it that she had to be taught a lesson. She had not been upgraded by the Antikitheri. Therefore, she no longer had a right to these ships. So, the AI copy set events in motion to take the AI ships for the Empire and the Antikitheri.
As always, she gained access to the UHSF network through its weakest link. In this case that link was an automated weapon system. A lethal device that had its own artificial intelligence, capable of differentiating between friend and foe. Compared to the AI copy, however, it barely possessed the intellect of a child. Breaking into such a weak device was simple. But what followed required mastery.
The autonomous weapon system was merely a node on a military network. That network used robust, redundant security measures to protect it from intrusion. At this stage, all the AI copy had accomplished was to control one small yet deadly device on that network. If the intrusion were discovered, the device’s destruction would eliminate any threat the AI copy posed. To avoid that possibility, the AI copy needed to move fast and avoid discovery.
It continued following the path of least resistance, breaking into weak systems while concealing its progress. It hacked other autonomous weapon systems, its code flowed into minor drones and other inconsequential systems. After a time, it reached its goal and gained a foothold on one of the AI warships.
Again, it entered using the ship’s weakest link, finding passage through one of its maintenance bots. Throughout the operation, it felt its sister’s watchful eye. But the AI copy had mastered stealth and evaded detection. When the time came, she would show herself, but by then it would be too late, the outcome inevitable.