Naero's War: The Citation Series 3: Naero's Trial

by Mason Elliott

  “I agree with you, Tus. Thank you for sharing your feeding time with us,” Naero said. “But I must know more about the other sentients who also fight the invaders. I would also like to learn more about the war and the enemies you face.”

  Tus nodded. “Good. Travel with us to another meeting set up. There you can meet some of them. Perhaps something better will come of it this time. Our ships will launch and lead you to the meeting place.”

  Naero agreed and contacted Task Force Six.

  Skirmishes had already been reported with enemy ships. That was bound to happen. But Naero still wanted to avoid any major battles until they could assess the situation better.

  Spacers also made initial fixer contact with the other sentient species in the region.

  Naero checked with Tus, and confirmed their findings.

  One sentient race were self-aware robots or androids, human-sized, who constructed their own offspring to increase their numbers. They simply called themselves: the Mechans.

  Next were the Sa’shom, humanoids with human-range male and female torsos above the waist, with serpentine, snake-like bodies below. Some Spacers were already nicknaming them, the gorgons. And the last race were dragonfly like insectoid with humanoid faces, fighting with multiple limbs.

  Naero recognized them instantly. They were the Amavar–S’krin’s own people. She needed to contact Baeven right away.

  Unable to reach her uncle, she reviewed vid footage the Lish had from the war, watching the Lish fight both Ejjai and Dakkur, and a few other races working for the enemy.

  Naero always disliked having to watch the atrocities of the enemy inflicted upon any species, human or non-human.

  17

  A secret meeting with the defenders of that entire region was scheduled to be held on an isolated world called Muntothon-4 within less than a day. Admiral Naero did her best to position several of her fleets to facilitate proper security.

  All the while, data flowed in from the expanding spyfixer nets. Naero and her people did their best to analyze a huge amount of navigation, system, and military data, and sort out what was from the enemy, and what was from the local defenders.

  Direct reports from scouts and forward elements also came in.

  “Admiral Naero. Fleet-17 reports 183 separate fleets fighting around these coordinates. Seventy of those fleets appear to be in enemy configurations. More detailed analyses to follow.”

  “Good work, Ima. Get us everything we can learn about those fleets, their actions, and their movements. Knowledge is our best weapon right now. We don’t know enough, yet.”

  Another call from Fleet 86. “Report, Captain Namoori. What’s so urgent?”

  “Sir, warn all the other fleets and scouts that the enemy is spreading out a defensive screen of four hundred additional fleets, on top of their deployed fleets, around their homeworlds and their expanded areas of conquest.”

  Naero grinned as her fingers flashed, relaying the data through teknomancy. “Done. The enemy knows something’s up. A new player is on the field and just like us, they want to learn everything they can.”

  “The local Mechans and…Amavar are taking a beating out this way. Do we engage? Do we assist, sir?”

  Naero didn’t hesitate. “I’m sorry. Not yet, Namoori. But that day will come, and soon. Hang back and collect data. We can’t tip our hand for now.”

  “Sir, the enemy just started to attack out this way within the last few days. Could they be trying to lure us into the mix so that they can study us and learn our numbers and capabilities?”

  “That’s very possible, Fleet Captain. Let’s keep them guessing for now. We want to be able to pick when and where we engage them.”

  That made a total of eight major, separate hotspots now, widely spread out and within an area of over four thousand cubic parsecs. A rough cube of enemy expansion. Each hot zone involved thousands of systems and fleets from different sides, struggling for dominance and survival.

  Eight thousand, six-hundred, and fifty-one known enemy fleets and counting.

  That was a lot. Even for Spacers.

  Any one of these war zones could swallow up her and her 100 fleets with relative ease.

  Whatever they chose to do, they needed to fight smart, if they were going to survive and be of any assistance to their new and future allies.

  They wouldn’t be much good to anyone dead.

  Rumors abounded about other alien species, battles, and enemy actions, allies, weapon systems, and overall capabilities.

  Truth needed to be separated from rumors and appearances. And they were still in the delicate process of meeting and introducing themselves to the locals.

  It was very clear from the outset that no one was going to defeat the enemy on their own.

  Then the priority alert went off.

  Strike Fleet-50, commanded by Captain Robyn Bucci had triggered an enemy trap. She was cut off by sixteen enemy fleets, five that had been cloaked, and eleven more that had jumped in and piled on.

  Naero kicked her command chair down and took charge of her spinning battle holo display. Her hands flew. She checked who was closest and ordered them in to relieve Fleet-50. Herself and Fleet-1, Fleets-4, 12, 22, 33, 41, 43, 44, 45, 46, and 47.

  “Prince of Austria, 50’s in deep. Most of these fleets are yours, Hans. Lead us in and we will support. Slashing death attack arcs on these optimized vectors and you take it from there. We launch all fighters now, and our wings can jump in with us ready to swarm, since it’s so close. Tell Robyn to prepare to jump her ships out before they are cut to pieces. We need to gun the enemy down and vanish. No survivors. And no chance for them to pile in on us any further.”

  “Affirmative, Admiral. Swift death it is then.” Vice Admiral Krieger took command as ordered and began shouting orders. “All fleets, all ships, assume these formations. We ride the lightning into battle. Destroy every foe we encounter!”

  Five Spacer Navy Fleets jumped in close with the enemy and blasted a way clear for Fleet-50 to jump out.

  Half of Robyn’s ships were on fire, but they retreated in good order, firing all the way as they jumped.

  Krieger, Naero, and the other four killer fleets roared in while the enemy was still reeling.

  They hewed through the enemy fleets in swiftly spinning rings of interlocking fire, sending sheets of flame into the foe from several directions all at one.

  Then Krieger dropped the hammer. “All battleships! Hard about. Hyperfire! All batteries. Blast their ashes into the afterlife!”

  Up close, the massive main guns on almost threescore dreadnaughts and super battleships poured blindly torrents of destroying fire into the enemy bigs.

  Shields vanished. Enemy battleships broke apart and exploded, almost instantly reduced to wreckage within that lethal firestorm.

  Krieger drove The Prince of Austria, The Salzburg, The Rheinland, Graf Tyrol, and The Deutschland directly through the flames, utterly fearless, even as the enemy battleships disintegrated and exploded all around them in close proximity.

  They punched forward, sustaining their intense fire, ramming the enemy wreckage out of the way with their shields flaring. Krieger proceeded to gut and decimate the enemy formations from within their core, taking out enemy bigs with each passing second.

  No enemy warship could endure such concentrated firepower from those massed big guns.

  From the outer fields, the superior-piloted Spacer starfighters gunned down the enemy ship to ship and enclosed the foe in a sphere of annihilation.

  Anything that attempted to escape that sphere was lit up and blown to bits. Three enemy fleets did their best to close up and blast their way free.

  Naero formed up Fleet-1 and took them head on in intercept, Echo-Foxtrot-6 devastation ring formation.

  “Hyperfire!” Naero commanded.

  The Holy Ghost, Shiva, Thor, Athena, and Ares ripped into the enemy fleets trying to escape with the withering fire from their main batteries, enveloping and passing
over them. The secondary warship rings finished the job.

  The rings of intense fire swept over the foe, tore them up, and spit the shredded enemy pieces out behind Fleet-1.

  A hundred and thirty-four enemy warships, obliterated in seconds.

  The Spacer formations adjusted and closed in for the kill. So did the starfighter sphere, coordinating fire within the shrinking, collapsing deathtrap.

  The Spacer bigs finished off the enemy bigs and carriers. The cruisers and destroyers took out their enemy counterparts, with the help of the Spacer Carrier defensive batteries. The Starfighters owned the black and cleaned up everything else.

  The attack and the battle took less than ten standard minutes.

  Krieger ordered all fleets out. The Spacer Navy left only death, devastation, and wreckage in their wake.

  *

  The next day, Naero led Fleets 1 through 25 toward the secret rendezvous with the other defenders.

  They were about to go into jump, when emergency alerts reached them from several sources, including Baeven, The Black Spot, and The Dark Star.

  “Naero,” Baeven warned, “get out of that area. Retreat. You have over three hundred enemy fleets converging on Muntothon-4 and all of the surrounding systems!”

  “Copy that. We need to alert our new potential allies. Do so in this fashion, on my direct orders.”

  “Affirmative,” Captain Tyber said. “We will direct all of them to the designated, alternate meeting location.”

  Naero pulled her task force back by twenty parsecs to regroup and adjust their defensive positions accordingly.

  The Spacers met with each of the five sentient races at five separate, alternate locations. At each of those locations, Naero held back and first sent in hundreds of holodrone decoys posing as Spacer fleets, and the other sentient fleets.

  All of the decoys disguised thousands of cloaked, seeker mines, waiting to launch and attack.

  They met the Lish at Pyxdymo-3, the Mechans at Menex-5, the Sa’shom at Shasturax-2, and the Amavar at Vamurrii-6.

  But when they met the Kodar at Timok-2, thirteen standard minutes later, three hundred enemy fleets surrounded that system and attacked the holodrone decoys, setting off the attacking mines.

  Naero conferred with all of the other sentients via holo-projection.

  “It would appear,” she told the remaining emissaries, “that the Kodar have sided with our enemies and are sharing intel with them.”

  All of the other four erupted in protests and complaints. Naero even cut the volume for a minute or two while they vented. Then she cut back in. “My people are here to assess the situation in this region of the Gamma Quadrant, and help out, if we can. We are still gathering intel and information. But might I point out from our initial assessment, that combined, even without the useless Kodar, you four races have enough fleets, resources, and firepower to oppose your enemies.”

  All four emissaries exploded once again with pleas for direct assistance and support.

  Basically, each of them wanted the Spacers to take on the bulk of the fighting and drive the invaders off.

  “Let me be up front with all you right off,” Naero informed them. “Our expedition cannot fight your battles for you. That is not why we have come. But if you join our Alliance, we can support and assist you to the best of our abilities, and help you organize and lead your forces better.”

  The complaining slacked off, but still continued.

  “Or, we can go back where we came from, and you and your worlds can go back to facing these invaders down on your own.”

  Silence. Finally.

  “Let’s face what we see as the facts. Your enemies are keeping all of you divided and will defeat your forces in less that three to four standard years. Perhaps less. Remain on you present course, and your eventual and total defeat is but a matter of time.”

  “What do you propose?” Dexon of the Mechans asked.

  “Your overall strategies must adapt and change. None of you will be able to achieve victory alone. That is impossible. Your only chance of survival and remaining free, is to band together, and crush the invader, once and for all.”

  Sezzim of the Sa’shom raised both hands in frustration, lashing his black and gold, serpentine tail in anger. “And just how do you suggest we do that? We have tried on several occasions to join forces. As soon as we try one thing, the enemy attacks all of our other vulnerable homeworlds. Then all agreements go out the hatch. No one has any desire to leave their worlds vulnerable while they fly off to defend the worlds of another race.”

  “First,” Naero said calmly, “all of you must continue to implement the communications and scanning protocols that we have sent you. Next, your computing systems must be checked for various enemy hackbugs and sleeper programs. We cannot let the enemy know what we are doing.”

  Some general grumbling followed that, but all four leaders saw the wisdom in such security measures.

  “Next, we will form logical defensive zones around all of your systems at risk, and beef them up with massive deployments of advanced drones and seeker mines.”

  “How will we produce such devices?” Tus snapped and clicked, through his translator.

  “How can we manufacture the large quantities we shall need, when our war industries are already producing warships and materials at their limits?” Dexon asked.

  “How can we afford all of this with our economies already collapsing from the war?” Sezzim protested. “Where will all of the raw materials come from?”

  Ma’triid of the Amavar laughed. “How do we know that all of this tech isn’t going to turn on us? You could be another ally of our enemies, only pretending to help us.”

  “All good questions,” Naero said. “Your tek people can study our devices ahead of time. We have ways to assist with their mass production that you do not. The raw materials will come from your worlds and your territories, wherever we can find them quickest and easiest. If you don’t trust us, ask us to leave at any time, and we will do so. But you will still be doomed. At least with us helping you, you will have a chance.”

  Naero paused and took in a breath, as they were poised to start complaining again.

  “I was not finished. Third, all four of you and your peoples will double the numbers of fleets you have in the black within three to six standard months.”

  Naero knew that Spacer fixer clouds were rapidly expanding each day in multiple secret areas. They would be ready. They were ready now.

  “Impossible!” Sezzim shouted.

  Dexon tried to tabulate how such a thing could be accomplished.

  Naero’s aides distributed pads to all of the leaders.

  “We will make certain that you have your ships. You must immediately implement these intense training programs to make certain that you have the crews available to operate those ships. Yes, it is difficult, but it can be done. Consider how much more difficult it will be to have all of your worlds subjugated and your populations wiped out…except for a few of you left as slaves, food stock, or mind-controlled cannon fodder.”

  Tus laughed. A very horrific sound, actually. “We must try hard to do these things, if we are to survive and save our peoples.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Agreed.”

  Naero grinned again. “And yet, I still was not finished,” she said.

  Everyone but the Mechan slumped forward slightly and let out a very deep sigh.

  Dexon did not understand. “What? Has she said something else?”

  “She’s going to,” Ma’triid grumbled. “And somehow we and our peoples have to make it all happen like magic.”

  “In all of these things, we shall help you,” Naero said. “We will coordinate all of our naval and military actions going forward from this point. How we respond to enemy probes and attacks, where we strike back, and in what numbers. If strategically necessary, some worlds may even need to be temporarily evacuated and abandoned, if they are not worth
defending. All five of us will have input into our major actions. We must work to find consensus. Everyone of you and your peoples have much at stake. There will be victories, and we shall also suffer defeats, as in any war.

  “At times, as during all wars, we must take certain calculated risks and gambles. They may pay off, or they could always end in disaster. There is no certainty in war. We must all share the risks, and take responsibility for our choices, and accept and deal with the results.”

  Sezzim crossed his arms indignantly. “And I suppose you are going to appoint yourself as supreme leader over all of us, while you are at it?”

  “No. I am merely an ally and an advisor. Whoever we agree upon has the better plan of attack should lead us. Is that not fair? But no one naval force should bear the brunt of battle. We must all share the risks.”

  Tus finally objected. “That is not enough. You expect us to trust you and the others to a high degree. To do much without much in return. What do you and your people offer? What do you bring to us that is of value?”

  Naero hit releases on their pads.

  “To show our good faith, these are several dozen tek modifications to all of your various systems that will greatly improve your effectiveness in many areas, including combat. I’m certain that once we have a chance to study all of your systems, we will also make further advances. Every culture and their tek has something to offer. Something that the others do not possess or know. We are all in this together now, and we will make each other stronger and more formidable.”

  “Very generous,” Tus admitted.