The Lost Fleet: Genesis: A Slaver Wars Novel

by Raymond L. Weil

  -

  It seemed as if she had only slept for a few minutes when Reesa felt a hand gently shaking her shoulder. “Wake up,” a voice said. Opening her eyes, Reesa saw Leeda standing over her.

  “We’ve arrived. If you want to take a few minutes to use the facilities to freshen up feel free to do so. I’ll wait outside.”

  Reesa nodded and went into the small restroom and took a quick shower. After warm air dried the water off she opened a slot on the wall and took out her clothes, now completely clean. She still wasn’t certain if these were her original clothes or just copies. After quickly dressing, Reesa left the sleeping compartment to find Leeda waiting patiently for her outside.

  “It’s only about twenty minutes to the Control Center,” the AI informed Reesa. “The others will be waiting there for us.”

  “What others?” asked Reesa, looking over at Leeda.

  “The other AIs,” Leeda explained. “A number have flown in from other sections of the Dyson Sphere for this meeting. You have to realize you’re the first organic being we’ve spoken to in over two million years.”

  Reesa nodded. She wished Kelnor were here. He had much more experience in diplomacy than she did. As a head researcher, he often had to deal with diplomats when going off on a research expedition. That was something she was sorely lacking in.

  Exiting the bullet train, Leeda and Reesa walked over to a bank of turbo lifts and were soon headed up toward the surface of the Dyson Sphere. Upon emerging, Reesa was surprised to see a small flyer waiting for them. It had only minimal wings and was aerodynamically shaped with a clear glass bubble for the occupants to sit in. Leeda opened the hatch and soon they were both seated. As soon as they were situated, a restraining harness automatically snaked out, securing Reesa in place. The flyer then took off and Reesa noticed the complete silence. There was no engine noise or anything else to indicate the vehicle was moving. Looking down Reesa marveled at how quickly the landscape was passing by. She could see several sparkling cities in the bright sunlight as well as kilometer after kilometer of forests and grasslands. In the distance, she could see some lofty mountain peaks covered in snow.

  “It’s so beautiful,” she said, looking over at Leeda, who was sitting next to her.

  Leeda nodded. “We have tried to keep it as the Originators left it. The entire Dyson Sphere is free of pollution and the poisons of most industrial civilizations.”

  “Our worlds are the same,” Reesa replied. “My people long ago learned how to live on them without upsetting the fragile ecosystems.”

  “That is another thing we wish to speak to you about. Your race seems to be unusually advanced. We are curious as to why you have allied yourselves with the Humans.”

  Reesa didn’t reply. She was surprised Leeda was aware of the alliance. It seemed to indicate they had some method of listening in to the conversations between the ships of the fleet.

  The flyer finally landed on the top of a towering building. It nearly reached into the clouds and reminded Reesa of some of the structures on Astral, the old home world of the Altons.

  Leeda led her through a maze of corridors before they finally stepped out into the Control Center. Reesa froze as she gazed around in disbelief. The room was cavernous in size; its walls were covered with hundreds if not thousands of viewscreens. On the floor control consoles were everywhere, however, no one was sitting in front of them. It reminded her of the main computer center buried deep beneath the City of Lights.

  “The central computer operates this Control Center,” explained Leeda, seeing the puzzled look on Reesa’s face. “Everything is automated. There are normally only one or two AIs present to deal with any abnormalities that might come up.”

  Leeda indicated for Reesa to follow her and soon the two reached another door. Stepping inside, Reesa saw there were eight other AIs present. There was a long conference table and the walls were covered with large viewscreens. Her eyes widened at what she saw on the screens. There were close up views of Shari, Federation, and Alton ships. There was also a highly magnified view of an area on the outer hull of the Dyson Sphere where the Shari were busily working.

  One of the male AIs turned toward them with a harsh look on his face. “I am Rakell. Why have you and the people with you come to the Shrieel?” he demanded.

  “Shrieel?” Reesa said confused and suddenly frightened.

  “The Dyson Sphere,” Leeda explained. “The Shrieel is what the Originators called it in their language.”

  “We come in peace,” Reesa said, feeling anxious. “We were also concerned our enemies, the Simulins, would discover it first and attempt to use its power to bring more of their fleets to our galaxy.”

  Rakell gazed at her coldly for a long moment before nodding. “Sit down; we have much to discuss.”

  -

  For over two hours, the AIs in the room asked Reesa hundreds of questions. They were curious about the Humans and Reesa’s own race, the Altons. There were also a lot of questions about the AIs and what had transpired around the black hole at the center of the galaxy. Rakell was highly interested in the battles with the Simulins at the galactic core as well as the one that occurred a few light years distant in one of the old star systems of the Originators.

  “We are aware the Simulins have gained access to a number of the Dyson Spheres,” Rakell said in a displeased voice. “We’re not sure how they first accessed a Shrieel as there are safeguards in place to prevent unauthorized entry to any of the structures. We do know how they accessed the ones after.”

  “How?” asked Reesa.

  “We will discuss that at a later date,” Rakell replied.

  “Currently, the Simulins as you call them have access to thirty-two Dyson Spheres,” one of the other female AIs informed Reesa.

  “Thirty-two!” gasped Reesa, her eyes widening in shock. “How many are there?”

  “There are two hundred and twelve Dyson Spheres as well as a number of major bases and the primary communications and transport hub,” Leeda replied.

  “Actually, there are two hundred and eleven Dyson Spheres,” Rakell said with a disturbed glint in his eyes. “The one in what you call the Triangulum Galaxy was recently destroyed by one of your warships.”

  Reesa couldn’t believe she had heard right. “How could one of our ships destroy something as large as a Dyson Sphere? What ship was it?” There was no way this could be right Rakell must be mistaken.

  Instantly on one of the viewscreens, the image of a ship appeared, one Reesa recognized immediately. The Distant Horizon! She slumped down in her chair. “Why did they destroy the Dyson Sphere?” Reesa couldn’t imagine how Rear Admiral Barnes had managed to accomplish such a feat.

  “The Simulins were using this particular Dyson Sphere to send fleets to this galaxy,” Leeda answered. “From what we have been able to gather, your Admiral Strong launched an attack upon the sphere in an attempt to prevent the Simulins from continuing to do so. The destruction of this particular sphere has some grave consequences for the galaxy around it, consequences which could end in the death of all life in that grouping of stars.”

  Reesa didn’t know what to say. “The Simulins are a threat to all of us. They must be stopped from using the Dyson Spheres to spread their empire across the galaxies.”

  Rakell looked gravely at Reesa. “In that we are agreed, particularly since we have learned of a major discovery in the Triangulum Galaxy, one that overrides our core programming of noninterference.”

  “A discovery?” repeated Reesa not understanding. “What type of discovery?”

  Rakell looked around at the other AIs who all nodded. “It seems your people in the Triangulum Galaxy have made a major discovery. They have found something we did not believe was possible. It is something lost and thought destroyed during the time of the great death of the Originators.”

  “What did they find?”

  Rakell’s eyes focused intently on Reesa. “They have found Kazak and the Dominator.”
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br />   “Who is Kazak and what is the Dominator?” asked Reesa, her heart racing.

  “The last hope for the rebirth of the Originator race,” Rakell answered. “There is also a great danger and that danger is Kazak. Kazak is another AI but a very special AI. He was designed and programmed to be a warrior and commander of fleets. He will do whatever is necessary to complete his mission and because of that your people in the Triangulum Galaxy may be in grave danger.”

  “What can I do to help?” asked Reesa.

  “We are still discussing that,” Leeda answered. “For now, we must deal with the situation here and your fleets, and then we will discuss what can be done about Kazak and the Dominator.”

  Reesa nodded. She knew she was way out of her depth and needed some help. However, there was an answer. Ambassador Tureen was with the fleet. He would be well suited to negotiate with the Originator AIs; she just needed to figure out how to get him here.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Admiral Jackson gazed worriedly at the tactical display. For the last several hours, Simulin escort cruisers had been dropping out of hyperspace periodically and taking scans of the defenses around Ornellia. The long-range sensors of the Dauntless had detected a large Simulin fleet in a star system just nine light years distant. A strikecruiser had been sent to take more detailed scans of the fleet as Jackson was certain it was preparing to attack. The strikecruiser had recently returned, and Jackson was studying the new data appearing on one of his command consoles. Sixty Simulin battlecruisers and eighty of their support cruisers were in that fleet formation. Jackson let out a deep breath. There could only be one reason why that fleet was here and that was to retake Ornellia.

  “That’s a pretty powerful fleet they’ve assembled,” commented Commander Sharon Blanton as she studied the numbers. “It didn’t take them long to respond to our freeing Ornellia from their control.”

  “Not powerful enough,” Jackson responded as he leaned back and thought about the battle strategy he would use if and when the Simulin fleet attacked. “We’ll take some losses, but we have the firepower to stop them short of the planet.”

  That was vitally important as the Altons were still in the process of removing the radiation contamination, which covered much of Ornellia. A number of clear areas had been established around the mountains, and from those areas the Altons were using their battleships to increase the size of the safe zones. Already hundreds of thousands of Ornellians had been brought to the small towns and cities that were now radiation free. The planet was very slowly coming back to life.

  “Contact all six of the battlestations and inform them their top priority is making certain nothing gets through to the planet,” Jackson ordered. “Also, as soon as the Simulins jump in I want all of our fighters deployed and flying just beneath the particle beam satellites. They’ll be responsible for taking out any missiles or Conqueror Drone pods the satellites and battlestations miss.”

  “Nothing will get through,” promised Commander Blanton.

  “I hope not. We have too many Ornellian survivors out in the open. I promised I’d protect them, and I fully intend to do just that.”

  “I’ll stress that point,” promised Blanton.

  “Once we’re engaged in combat I want all of our Anlon bombers launched. They’re to hang back and take out targets of opportunity, particularly any damaged Simulin warships. I want each of them armed with a pair of Shrike missiles.” The Shrike combat missiles carried a twenty-megaton nuclear warhead and would be quite deadly to a ship without a functioning energy shield.

  “The supply ships, the hospital ship, and the two fleet repair vessels are moving beneath the defense grid,” reported Lieutenant Ortega. He was watching the friendly green icons on his sensors moving closer to Ornellia. “All Ornellians ships are doing the same.”

  Admiral Jackson nodded. In the weeks since their arrival, they had managed to find a few surviving Ornellian ships as well as a number of small research and mining outposts, which remained untouched by the Simulins. There were currently twenty-two cargo ships, six passenger liners, seven cruisers and two battlecruisers under Ornellian control. The ships had been busy bringing in survivors from the other planets of the former Ornellian Empire whenever they could be found.

  “What about the Ornellian warships?” asked Commander Blanton. “Admiral Santeld is offering to help if the Simulins attack.”

  Jackson thought for a moment. “No, the battlecarriers will be staying behind; I would ask that he provide cover for them.”

  Jackson didn’t want to risk the Ornellians’ last few warships; it might be years before they could begin constructing new ones. It was a miracle they had survived in the first place. Admiral Santeld had been escorting ships going to the Ornellian evacuation fleet and had been ambushed by a small Simulin force. By the time the battle was over and Santeld managed to lose the Simulins, the evacuation fleet was long gone. Since that time he had been using his surviving ships to gather what few Ornellian civilian vessels he could find. He had also been providing support to a few of the remote mining sites and research posts the Simulins had overlooked or hadn’t managed to get to.

  “Should we move the fleet into a defensive or offensive formation?” asked Commander Blanton.

  “Yes, offensive,” replied Jackson. “Contact all of our ships and have them form up in formation C-4.” This was an inverted cone formation with the apex forward. “Once the Simulins jump in, we’ll move out to engage them. The farther away from Ornellia we can start the battle, the less chance they’ll have of being able to launch missiles or Conqueror Drone pods at the planet.”

  Jackson watched as Blanton began sending out the orders. His eyes moved back to the tactical display as he wondered when the Simulins would launch their attack. He knew they wouldn’t wait very long.

  -

  On the surface of the planet, Dax Matol had just been informed of the new threat posed by the Simulins. He was in the city of Dorman and working with a small group of Human Marines. For the last several weeks, they had been emplacing high-energy laser turrets around the perimeter of the city to take out any inbound missiles or pods that might make it through the defensive grid. The lasers turrets were on top of towers and could be focused to ground level in case any of the dreaded Conqueror Drones put in an appearance. Currently, there were twenty completed towers surrounding the city.

  “We’re as ready as we’re going to be,” Les Ketene reported as he gazed at one of the lofty towers. “We have two squads of soldiers assigned to each tower, and they’re all equipped with the new pulse rifles the Humans have provided us.”

  “We have five other cities equally protected,” Dax added.

  He had been working hard with the Humans and the Altons to ensure the surviving people on Ornellia were safe. On the north side of Dorman, he saw a flight of Human Talon fighters take off and rise up into the air. A full squadron had been based at the small space field. The four Talons leveled off and began a wide circle of the surrounding countryside. It made Dax feel more secure knowing the deadly fighters were ready to protect the city.

  “It will still be months before we have all the known survivors moved to the cities,” Les said as he watched the circling fighters. “The Alton battleships are doing a fantastic job getting rid of the radiation. We have found factories, farms, and a number of other small cities untouched from the bombardment. A lot more survived than I ever believed possible.”

  “I spoke to Councilor Oman Lantoll earlier,” Dax said as he turned to watch a squad of heavily armed Ornellian soldiers working at setting up a defensive perimeter around the laser tower. Lantoll was the only surviving member of the Ornellian ruling council besides those that had gone with the evacuation fleet. “The latest census indicates there are nearly two million survivors scattered about the planet.”

  “Two million out of over three billion,” muttered Les in a shaken voice. “So many have died, and the same is true on the other planets of our empire.”r />
  “The Simulins are a horrific species. They believe that all life other than their own must be exterminated. At least our race has a chance to rebuild and someday reclaim our worlds.”

  “How many survivors are there on our other planets?”

  “Unknown,” Dax answered as he watched a pair of Anlon bombers take off and head toward the south. Most likely additional Conqueror Drones had been spotted, and the bombers were being sent to take them out. Even after all of these weeks a few drones were still being spotted.

  “I know some are being brought in with the cargo ships and the passenger liners Admiral Santeld has been able to salvage,” Les said. “I saw several cargo ships land just yesterday and unload survivors.”

  “Admiral Santeld has been using his cruisers along with a few ships of Admiral Jackson’s fleet to survey the conditions on our other worlds and picking up survivors whenever possible. One of Admiral Jackson’s battlecarriers has been accompanying Admiral Santeld’s fleet to provide covering fire from the Conqueror Drones whenever they do find survivors. He believes there are still survivors on all of our planets though they’re infested with the drones. He has managed to make contact with a number of the larger underground bunkers on three of our planets and supplied them with sufficient pulse rifles to begin combating the drones. Admiral Jackson is already making plans to send his remaining battlecarriers to Absom to begin clearing the drones from that world. That’s where Admiral Santeld believes the most survivors are.”

  “I wish we had more ships,” said Les somberly. “Every day the Conqueror Drones kill more of our people on our other planets. I feel so helpless knowing there’s not a lot we can do.”

  Dax nodded in agreement. “At least the Humans have given us hope. Enough of us have survived that someday we’ll rebuild all of our worlds.”