The Lost Fleet: Genesis: A Slaver Wars Novel

by Raymond L. Weil

  Walking up to a blank wall, he reached into his pocket and took out one of the small copper colored globes the Originators used to gain access to highly sensitive or restricted areas. Inserting it into the small recess on the wall, there was a slight humming noise and a section slid open, revealing the compartment behind it. Stepping inside, the door slid shut and Kazak retrieved the globe, putting it back in his pocket.

  Taking his time, he walked from one end of the compartment to the other making sure the equipment inside was functioning properly keeping the compartment’s valuable contents safe. Finally satisfied that everything was working as it should, he left the compartment to return to the Command Center. He knew if he was to keep the trust of Fleet Admiral Strong and the others, at some point in time he was going to have to show the fleet admiral what was concealed in the compartment. He was not certain how Fleet Admiral Strong would react to the hidden secret.

  -

  Above Malkor, Simulin Supreme High Commander Callat was staring angrily at the report he had just received from the outer regions. Four Conqueror Drone carriers had reported in at an advance base. They had informed the base’s commander that a fleet of organics and AIs from the Fitula Nebula had appeared in the former Ornellian Empire and wiped out High Commander Ganlon’s fleet in orbit around Ornellia.

  “What are the Fitula organics doing so far away from the nebula?” asked High Commander Faberh with confusion in his eyes. “What can they be hoping to achieve?”

  Callat looked away from his computer screen on which he had been reading the report. “They know we are weak at the moment from the ship losses we have suffered. They may believe we are vulnerable in the outer regions of this galaxy.”

  Faberh stepped over to the ship’s battle computer and, after a few minutes, turned around to face the Supreme High Commander. “The battle computer is recommending we send a fleet of sixty battlecruisers and eighty support cruisers to remove the threat at Ornellia before it grows. We cannot allow the Fitula organics to establish a base in that system.”

  Callat gazed at one of the large viewscreens on the front Command Center wall. The ship was in orbit around Malkor and numerous Simulin battlecruisers could be seen awaiting his orders. “What if that is what the organics from the nebula want?” he said coldly as he thought over the strategy that might be at play. “They may be trying to draw our forces out toward the outer regions of this galaxy so they can attack our population centers.”

  “We still have a powerful fleet,” said Faberh undeterred. “In the Malkor System alone we have four hundred of our battlecruisers and nearly six hundred support cruisers. Some of our other systems have similar fleet formations. The Fitula organics dare not attack us here; we would crush them.”

  Callat was quiet for several long moments as he thought over his options. It was considered sedition to disobey the recommendations of the battle computers. However, they were now out of contact with the other galaxies of the Simulin Intergalactic Empire. The situation had drastically changed, and the recommendations of the battle computers had to be weighed against possible future ramifications and policies.

  “I will send a fleet from Tranton,” Callat said as he reached a decision. “They have nearly as many ships in their system as we do here. However, I will instruct the High Commander of that fleet to withdraw from Ornellia rather than suffer heavy ship losses.”

  “Withdraw?” gasped Faberh, his eye widening in disbelief. “We are Simulins, and there can be no others.”

  “We are in a battle for our very survival,” Callat said harshly. “We are still in the process of emplacing defenses around our worlds. We are months away from having sufficient ships to begin expanding across this galaxy once more. We must not underestimate our enemy.”

  High Commander Faberh stared at Callat before responding. “I bow to your superior strategy. However, I would recommend we send a sizable fleet to the vicinity of the Fitula Nebula to engage any of the organic or AI ships which emerge. Perhaps that way we can contain them.”

  Callat stared coldly at Faberh. It was considered a showing of disloyalty to make a suggestion such as Faberh had just done. The duty of the High Commander was to carry out Callat’s orders without question.

  “I will consider it,” Callat finally said.

  -

  Hours later, Supreme Commander Callat was in a war shuttle flying just above Malkor. He was inspecting the defensive satellites and battle stations being placed in orbit. The new Grand Council had objected to so many resources being committed to the static defenses. They had demanded more ships be built first so expansion into the other regions of this galaxy could continue. Callat had ordered four more council members to be executed for questioning his directives.

  Sometimes he wondered if he was the only one that could see the threat posed by the organics and AIs from the Fitula Nebula. The Great Sphere was gone, and somehow the enemy had gained control of a massive warship of the sphere builders. There was little doubt in Callat’s mind that if the Fitula organics and their allies discovered the secrets that ship possessed, then all Simulin life in this galaxy would be in peril.

  Looking out the large cockpit window, he saw an escort cruiser emplacing a series of ten-meter energy beam satellites. He had given the order for ten thousand such satellites to be constructed and put into orbit around Malkor. In addition, twenty five-hundred-meter battlestations were under construction. Once the defensive grid was in place, he would once more send out Simulin fleets across the galaxy. If and when the ship of the Great Sphere builders put in an appearance, he would deal with it.

  He had run some simulations on the battle computer, and it had informed him a large enough fleet should be able to destroy the ancient vessel. Callat was determined he would have a fleet of sufficient size to meet the ship in combat if needed. However, even the battle computer had been unable to predict the type of weapons such a ship might be armed with. The ancient vessel had already shown evidence of one weapon which could drain all the energy from nearby warships. Callat was concerned that no matter how well he prepared, there was no guarantee of victory if the ship of the ancients did indeed show up.

  Looking out the other cockpit window, he saw one of the new battlestations being constructed. At the moment, it was just a ragged sphere of girders and support beams. Bright flashes of white light indicated where the beams were being joined together. Work was going on around the clock, nonstop. Callat was well aware of the importance of sending the fleets back out on the attack. This galaxy must become one of only Simulins. All other organics must die, for in the end, there could only be Simulins.

  -

  Jeremy was inside one of the huge construction bays on the Clan Protector. Both Grayseth and Daelthon were with him. In the center of the bay, with hundreds of spider robots swarming over it, was the latest Gaia class battlecruiser. The ship was twelve hundred meters in length and two hundred and fifty meters in diameter. It possessed all the weapons of a standard battlecruiser except an ion beam cannon had been added to the bow as well as additional particle beam turrets. Where a normal battlecruiser used energy beams for defense, the Gaia class used the more powerful power beams. The ship could operate with a crew of five hundred and a Marine complement of seventy-five. That was nearly one thousand fewer crew personnel than was required on the older battlecruisers.

  “When will she launch?” asked Jeremy, folding his arms across his chest as he watched the work going on in the bay.

  “Two weeks,” answered Daelthon, his light brown fur seeming to shine in the brilliant lights of the construction bay. Both Daelthon and Grayseth towered over the admiral.

  “She will be a powerful warship and bring much honor to Gaia,” proclaimed Grayseth as he watched the spider robots scurrying about.

  “As will all of the ships of her class,” added Daelthon.

  “We’ll need them,” said Jeremy, drawing in a deep breath.

  He knew that by now Admiral Jackson had arrived at Ornelli
a and would be in the process of setting up a base there. Jackson had instructions to send out survey ships to seek out other worlds that might be able to help in the war against the Simulins. Jeremy was determined to make the Triangulum Galaxy a safe place, free of Simulin interference.

  “How soon do we go out on the hunt?” asked Grayseth. He was anxious to bring more honor to his clan.

  “Shortly,” answered Jeremy, turning toward his friend. “The Dominator will be leaving in a few days to travel to the blue-giant nebula to take additional sensor readings on the Dyson Sphere supernova. I’ll be sending a task group of the Gaia class battlecruisers along as escorts as well as a few AI warspheres. At the same time, I want to send out two attack fleets to begin hunting down any stray Simulin warships still in our vicinity as well as a number of smaller task groups seeking out the home worlds of the Simulins.”

  Grayseth nodded. “It is time for the hunt to begin.”

  Jeremy nodded in agreement. “We have been on the defensive too long. After the destruction of the Dyson Sphere, the Simulins are weaker than ever before and are cut off from reinforcements.” Looking at the battlecruiser, Jeremy saw a number of spider robots led by several dockworkers enter the ship carrying large crates. Already, necessary supplies and munitions were being loaded.

  “My fleet is ready,” boomed Grayseth, his wide eyes focusing expectantly on Jeremy.

  Jeremy gazed at Grayseth, knowing how important this was to the big Bear. “Very well, one of the two attack fleets will be Carethian. However, each attack fleet will have a force of AI warspheres as part of its makeup. There will also be several Alton battleships assigned since the Altons seem to work more efficiently with the AIs.”

  “My people can work with the AIs,” proclaimed Grayseth. “We have come to learn the AIs can be worthy hunters and are now part of the Clans of the Gaia System.”

  “Just be careful, my friend,” Jeremy said solemnly. “We are out to destroy the Simulins, and you are not to take unnecessary risks.”

  Grayseth nodded his understanding. “I understand, clan brother.”

  -

  Later, Jeremy returned to his quarters on the Avenger to find Kelsey waiting for him. She was dressed in a black nearly see-through negligee and sitting expectantly on the comfortable couch.

  “I was hoping you would return home soon,” she said smiling.

  “Looks as if you already have something on your mind,” Jeremy answered as Kelsey stood up and he put his arms around her.

  Kelsey kissed Jeremy and then looked up into his eyes. “I’ll be leaving soon on the Dominator. We may not have many opportunities like this for a while, so I want to take advantage of those we do.”

  Stepping back, she allowed the negligee to drop to the floor, and she smiled satisfyingly as she saw Jeremy’s eyes roam hungrily over her body. She didn’t spend all that time working out in the gym for nothing. Her stomach was still trim and flat. She knew she had all the right curves in the expected places.

  Reaching out, she pulled Jeremy toward her, feeling her pulse begin to race. She didn’t have to be back on the Dominator until late the next morning and didn’t plan on doing too much sleeping between now and then.

  Chapter Ten

  Reesa stepped outside of the large building she had been exploring feeling frustrated. As with all the buildings explored thus far, it was empty. She had such high hopes when they first came into the city, and now those hopes were rapidly fading away.

  “Now where?” asked Corporal Metz.

  He and two other Marines had been assigned as permanent escorts for Reesa, particularly since Kelnor was still upset with her. Even in camp, the strain between the two Alton scientists was evident.

  Reesa sighed and looked around. They were on the main thoroughfare that ran through the city. A number of the small robots were evident zipping about on their way to perform their different tasks. Maalon Delz had taken it upon himself to perform a more detailed study of just what the small robots did in the city, and he had several teams following them and documenting their functions. As expected, so far everything seemed to indicate the little robots were responsible for the general upkeep of the city.

  “Each building is the same,” Corporal Metz commented as he gazed about. “You would think we would find something in at least one of them!”

  All three Marines were armed, but they hadn’t encountered anything that could be ascertained as a potential threat. Even the little robots, which were waist high, detoured around the members of the exploration team as if they weren’t even there.

  “Not any furniture or anything to indicate anyone ever lived here,” said Private Sandra Carton as she looked over at Corporal Metz. “It’s as if they took everything when they left except the buildings.”

  “But why do the little robots tend them?” asked Private Richard Trent. “It’s as if they expect the Originators to return at any time.”

  “More mysteries,” said Reesa as she eyed a building across the street. “It’s possible the Originators believed until the end they would find a cure for the pathogen eradicating their race. The city is immaculate and just waiting for their return.”

  Private Carton looked uneasily about. “What would we do if we did find surviving Originators?”

  “I don’t believe that’s going to happen, Sandra,” Reesa said with a hint of sadness in her voice. She would give anything to be able to speak to one of the ancient builders of the Dyson Sphere. “The last one died over two million years ago, and they’ve long since turned to dust.”

  Corporal Metz looked down at his watch. “We still have two hours before we need to return, where to next?”

  “Let’s try that building across the street,” Reesa said pointing.

  “Let’s go,” Metz said as he took the lead.

  Starting across the street, Reesa was feeling so disappointed. When they had first come into the city, they had been expecting to make fabulous discoveries about the Originators, but all evidence seemed to indicate the city had been stripped, probably several million years ago. They had found nothing but empty buildings. No furniture, paintings, statues; there was absolutely nothing to indicate who had lived in the city. She knew from initial reports that the Dyson Sphere itself was over three million years old. Taking a deep breath, she looked at the building they were approaching. Perhaps in this one, they would finally find something.

  -

  Kelnor was standing next to Sergeant Wilde back at their camp. They had set up their emergency habitats a short distance from the city where there was a small stream and abundant fruits and berries. Kelnor had agreed to allow the Marines to continue to catch fish but had denied their request to kill any of the larger animals. He was still certain that the guiding intelligence of the Dyson Sphere was watching them. The very fact the energy shield was removed seemed to indicate that.

  “Kelnor?” asked Brenda as she stared at the nearby towering buildings. “How many Originators do you think once lived here?” It was a huge relief to be out from under the energy shield.

  “Several million,” he replied as he looked thoughtfully at the city. “It will take us years just to explore it.”

  “Years?” said Brenda with a deep sigh. It had been four weeks since they had crossed the barrier where the energy shield once stood. If they ever made it back to the ship, she was not looking forward to explaining her actions to either Major Nolan or Captain Abrams. “Is there any chance the energy shield going down was some type of timed occurrence? That our appearance generated an automatic response and after so much time elapsed it automatically shut down?”

  Kelnor paused and shifted his attention to the sergeant. “It’s possible,” he conceded. “There’s just so much we don’t know.”

  Brenda looked around their small camp. With her Marines and the scientists, there were thirty-two of them calling the camp their home. There had been some discussion about moving into one of the Originator buildings, but Brenda had hesitated about do
ing that. There was something haunting about the city that made her feel uneasy. Anytime she walked down one of the streets or entered a building she felt as if she was being watched. Brenda felt safer here in the open where they could spot anything or anyone approaching.

  “So, what do we do now?” she asked as one of the small scouting teams came into camp.

  She was sending out teams for kilometers around the city to see what long-term resources were available. For as long as they had been trapped inside the Dyson Sphere, it was obvious to her that a rescue mission wasn’t going to show up. Reesa had the only key, and there was no way for anyone else to find their way inside. She knew by now Admiral Tolsen must have given up on their returning. More than likely, they were listed as missing and presumed dead.

  “We continue to explore. There’s still much about the city we don’t know or understand.”

  Brenda nodded. “It would be nice if we could find some type of transportation to use. There’s not a lot of exploring we can do if we have to walk everywhere.”

  What Brenda really wanted was to have access to several of the small flying vehicles which came into the city on occasion. If they had a couple of those at their disposal, they could really begin to explore. There had to be more cities besides this one, and perhaps some of the others hadn’t been stripped of everything. Also, if they could explore other nearby areas of the Dyson Sphere, just maybe they could find a way out. There had to be one somewhere.

  Kelnor looked back toward the city. “We’ve identified two of the taller buildings the flyers land on. We could set up some equipment to monitor the flyers as they land. I’m hesitant to risk doing anything that the guiding intelligence of the Dyson Sphere might interpret as hostile. I would hate to find ourselves behind an energy shield again.”

  “The Dyson Sphere and this city may end up being our home,” Brenda said after a moment. “It would be nice to know what other options there may be.”