Exodus - Empires at War 04 - The Long Fall (Exodus Series #4)

by Doug Dandridge

  “You’ve read their holy works?” asked Lord Garis in surprise. “I thought it was strictly forbidden for an alien to read those.”

  “Father believed his children should understand the neighbors of the Empire,” said Sean with a smile. “And not subscribe to their superstitions. And I will tell you, ladies and gentlemen, I have never read a more hate filled Holy text in my life.”

  “So, what do you have in mind, your Majesty?” asked the CNO after a nod from her immediate boss, Lady Hannah.

  “As I said, a surgical strike. Something quick into their space and to the homeworld. I want every bit of space industry destroyed. Then I want boots on the ground on that planet. I want Imperial soldiers to walk into every major shrine, to desecrate it with their presence. And I want them to realize we can do it again, any time we want.”

  “Time frame?” asked Lady Hannah.

  “Within the next month,” said Sean. “Do you have something that can hit them hard?”

  “They’re going to contest any attempt at a landing on their homeworld,” said Grand Marshal Mishori Yamakuri, the Army Chief of Staff. “I would recommend at least an armored corps. Lighter troops will just take too many casualties. But I only have one division of heavy troops, armor, facing their border.” The small man who ran the Imperial Army looked down at his flat comp for a moment. “I have two more divisions still in Core space that can be shifted out there, and be ready to be part of the strike in three weeks.”

  “Then do it,” said Sean. “Lady Hannah, you and Admiral McCollum coordinate it so it goes through. I want a large enough battle force to take out their naval forces and escort the troops to the planet. Boots on for forty eight hours, then leave.”

  “It may backfire, your Majesty,” said Garis.

  “You have a better idea, Minister?”

  “Actually no, your Majesty,” said the much older man. “I think it is something that needs to be done. I just wanted to point out that it may cause the fanatics to react even more, fanatically.”

  “We’ll deal with that if it happens,” said Sean. “Any other business?”

  “The Crakistan Ambassador wishes to meet with your Majesty at your earliest convenience,” said Garis. “He says it is of the utmost importance.”

  “Then set up a meeting for this afternoon.” And I wonder what bombshell the Lizard is waiting to drop. Will I be involved in yet another war? “So, if there is nothing else, you may leave,” he said, looking around the table. “Minister T’lisha. Director Sergiov. Please stay.”

  There were some tense looks as everyone left the room but the named individuals, and Sean knew they had to be wondering what was going on. Need to know, he thought, waiting for the door to close.

  “So, what is going on with Stoyanovich?” he asked, looking from the huge Phlistaran to the human and back.

  “We have him in custody, your Majesty,” said the huge Minister with a crocodilian grin that would be frightening to anyone who didn’t know him. “Commerce picked him up for questioning about the industrial concern he bought from Streeter. You remember, your Majesty. The one that was building substandard grabbers.”

  “Anything we can get him on there?”

  “Probably not, your Majesty. He was not in control of the company when the wrongdoing occurred. Most probably Streeter got rid of the company when he saw trouble coming. But it did give us an opening for a judge friendly to the Crown to issue surveillance warrants. While he is out of his manor we removed his staff and searched the house, ostensibly to search for evidence of his complicity in the matter. But really to put surveillance in place.”

  “And what about Director McGregor?” asked the Emperor. “How did you keep him out of the loop?”

  “By using Commerce agents, and members of the local police that we have come to trust,” said T’lisha.

  “And my own people have thrown him some red herrings to distract him,” said Ekaterina. “But why not just can him. It is your right, your Majesty. Or, if you prefer to distance yourself from that process, suggest to Minister T’lisha here that he do it.”

  “I would be more than happy to, as you humans say, can him,” said the grinning Phlistaran.

  “No,” said Sean, shaking his head. “I want him watched, and closely. If he is involved in a conspiracy, then I want to know who else in his organization is involved. If he’s kicked out, they’re more likely to go to ground, and we’ll never root them out.”

  “The city police also have a complaint sworn out against the Archduke by a Malticoran servant he beat the other night,” said Sergiov. “Unfortunately, he is not subject to their prosecution at this time, not in his position as Leader of the Lords.”

  “Scumbag,” growled Sean. “The man is not deserving of his position or his title.”

  “And if I guess right, that servant’s life is now at risk,” said T’lisha. “I cannot see a man of the Archduke’s character leaving a possible witness to his impropriety at large.”

  “Then I want her to have more than police protection,” said Sean, pointing his finger at the IAA Chief. “I want some of your people keeping her protected, in your best safe house.”

  “I’m ahead of you there, your Majesty,” said the smiling woman. “She’s already under wraps.”

  “Very good. I already feel much better. Now, if only the Crakistan Ambassador will be as giving.”

  Two hours later, after eating a quick lunch in his office, the Emperor prepared to receive the Ambassador of an Empire the humans still had trouble understanding, even after six hundred years of contact. He said a calming mantra when told that the Ambassador was there. He had never met one of that species before, and knew that this might be his most important meeting of the month.

  He was surprised by the size of the creature that entered his office. He was expecting something big and clumsy, even though he had studied vids of the creatures that denied that expectation. The Ambassador was small and sleek, with graceful movements set off by its colorful robe. He couldn’t tell if it was male or female, the Crakistans being egg layers, and males and females looking externally alike. The being had a reddish brown skin, though the vids had shown the creatures in a variety of colors.

  “I bring you greetings from the Supreme Council of the Crakista States,” said the being in very good Terranglo. “The members of the council wish for cordial relations between our peoples.”

  The being spoke without emotion, and Sean could well believe what he had heard about the lizard forms being totally ruled by logic. “We are always happy to receive fellow intelligent beings in peaceful commerce with our Empire,” he said, raising an eyebrow, then realizing that the gesture was probably lost on the alien. “And what can we do for our brother beings? I am given to understand that we already engage in trade.”

  “And we are given to understand that all of the human governments are involved in a war against a mighty foe. One they have dealt with in the past.”

  So here we come to the meat of the matter. No use lying. I’m sure they already know the truth. “We are engaged in a war with these beings you speak of. We are sorely pressed at this moment. Is that what you wanted to know?”

  “Yes,” said the Ambassador. “You speak well, and truly. You are one we can work with. And because of that, I wish to offer you our aid.”

  “What kind of aid are you talking about?” asked Sean, feeling his heart beat faster.

  “A military alliance,” said the Ambassador, its scaly face giving away no emotion. “Full cooperation against your enemy.”

  “Excuse me for asking, because this is really something we want and need, but why do you offer to jump into this war on our side?”

  “I offer this as partial explanation,” said the being, holding out an open hand which held a crystal. The crystal activated, and a holo appeared above the being’s hand. The holo showed a number of ships in space, hyperspace by the reddish glow behind them. They were Klang vessels, and a few other ships that were becoming dist
ressingly familiar in the Empire.”

  “Ca’cadasans.” The holo advanced, showing the ship engaged in battle with a force of Crakista vessels. The Crakista ships were of similar classes to those of the humans, and only a decade behind them in technology. They blew the opposing force out of space, save for a couple of Klang vessels. The holo advanced to a view of several Ca’cadasans in a cell.

  “We interrogated the creatures, and did not like what they had to tell us,” said the Ambassador. “They are a conquering species, and will not be satisfied until all species in this region are their slaves. That is not acceptable to us. No intelligent species should be the slave of another. Your species integrates others species into your Empire. Even your ruling bodies have alien members. We have other species in our space as well, and they are treated as valued citizens. We see no such behavior from these creatures, these Ca’cadasans.”

  “They entered your space?” asked Sean, incredulous that the Klang would allow their masters to do so.

  “They did not. But they were headed into your space, and we thought we could force a battle with them, which would allow us to gather prisoners to be interrogated. It was a situation where we could strike with no fear of repercussions. After all, if they did not return to their space it would be assumed they ran into more of your forces than they could handle.”

  “Very logical,” said Sean, gazing into the flat affected face of the being.

  “The ancients raised us up to be where we are today,” continued the Ambassador. “They wanted us to be as we are, not as a servant species. If we allow these newcomers to conquer you, how long can we survive against them? It is only logical to ally ourselves with you while that alliance will make a difference. Our ruling council suggests that you allow some of our military leadership to come here and work out a plan to integrate our forces. And those of the ones you call Elysiums, as soon as they settle their internal problems.”

  “I agree to your offer,” Sean said with a smile. “I would be a fool not to. Is there anything we can give to you?”

  “Wormholes,” said the creature without hesitation. “Oh, not that many of them. One to our capital, so we can have communications between our governments. And enough to equip our task group flags with, for the same reasons.”

  This could be a trick, thought Sean, trying to read the unexpressive face of the being and failing. But it is a risk I cannot afford not to take. “Agreed. We will work out the details of a formal treaty of alliance with you through our Ministry of State. Then I will sign those papers and have them sent to your government, along with a wormhole from your capital to your Embassy here.”

  “Very good,” said the Ambassador, coming to its feet and offering a cool scaled hand. “There were some in the Council who argued against an alliance. They said that your victory would lead to your conquest of the Galaxy. The counter argument was that was better than the alternative.”

  “And how close was the final vote?”

  “It was unanimous,” said the Ambassador. “It always is, once the logical course is discovered.”

  Chapter Twenty

  We did not come to this place, across a thousand year journey, only to be subjugated by others, aliens who see us as nothing but future subjects of their own Empires. Humans will be ruled by none but themselves. This the alien powers will learn. King James Sampson Lee, James I, First King of the New Terran League.

  CORE SPACE, MAY 30TH, 1001.

  “We have a mission,” said the Commander of the 384th Heavy Infantry Division to his Brigade Commanders.

  The two men and a woman looked at each other, then at the smiling Major General Betrum Maxwell. Everyone wanted to just go ahead an ask him, but they all knew the man liked to play this game. Finally Brigadier General Gloria Parker could hold her tongue no longer. “Any chance we might find out before we die of old age, sir?”

  “Oh, I’m pretty sure the Cacas will kill us well before that milestone, Gloria,” said Brigadier General Tanda M’kata from around his smoking pipe.

  “You will be very familiar with our future opponents, Samuel,” said the Major General, picking up his cup of coffee.

  “Not the Lasharans,” exclaimed Baggett with a grimace. “I thought we were going to fight something other than half naked fanatics. So we’re going to be doomed to walking occupation duty on some planet we’ve taken from them?”

  “Oh, it’s a little more than that,” said the Division CO, his smile growing wider. “We’re going to take those bastards out of this war. Or at least show them the shape of things to come if they persist in pissing us off.”

  “We’re going to strike at their homeworld,” said an excited Brigadier General Timothy Slovonovich. “Jolly good.”

  “Just us, sir?” asked Baggett, thinking of what a blood bath might follow a single division, no matter its fire power, landing on the homeworld of a race.

  “General Lanbardran and 195th Heavy Infantry Division will be coming with us,” said Maxwell. “And the 49th Armored Division as well. They’re already on the Lasharan frontier, waiting for our arrival.”

  “Those Phlistarans ought to scare the hell out of the buggers,” said Slovonovich. “They sure as hell intimidate me.”

  “Hell, Timmy,” said Parker with a laugh. “Your own shadow scares the hell out of you.”

  Baggett joined in the laugh. It was well known that the oldest of the brigadiers did not like combat insertions. Once he was on the ground he was among the bravest of soldiers. But coming down from orbit he needed to be in an induced trance state.

  “So, we’re going to take and hold their homeworld?” asked M’kata, blowing out smoke with each word. “Won’t that cause them to throw everything they have at us. I don’t think we can win a war of attrition.”

  “Orders are boots on the planet for forty-eight hours,” said the CO. “No longer. We kill people and break things, and desecrate every damned religious structure on the planet. Seems their damned fool holy text says that aliens will never set foot in the holy places of their homeworld. And we’re going to prove to them, to the Galaxy, that those words are pure bullshit.

  “Now, this is to go no further until we’re at the frontier. Fleet doesn’t want anything to get out that might warn them. Not that we don’t trust our own people, but things have been known to happen.”

  Baggett was happy to hear that. Intelligence was vital, and keeping the enemy from gaining intelligence was just as important.

  “Now, we will all repair to our transports and prepare to depart. Fleet tells me we will enter hyper in twelve hours. I will be aboard the flagship with General Lanbardan and the task force commander. I expect that we will go straight to our target, the 49th and the bombardment group meeting us en route. I expect for your brigades to be ready for a fight. I have faith in you.”

  Baggett thought about the mission on the shuttle back to his transport, the seven million ton Gallipoli, which carried not only his three heavy infantry and one armored battalion, but also a trio of ground support squadrons. Twelve hours and three minutes later came the familiar nausea of a vessel entering hyper, and he knew he would not feel the downward translation until they reached the hyper barrier at the Lasharan home system.

  *

  FENRI SPACE AND JEWEL, JUNE 1ST THROUGH 5TH, 1001.

  The plan called for simultaneous strikes on six Fenri military systems, all within fifty light years of the frontier. All holding large units of the Fenri fleet, preparing for their surprise strike on the New Terran Empire. There was a surprise, alright, but not what the Fenri were expecting.

  The ships that went in were all hyper VII. There really weren’t enough of them to take on the Fenri forces they would face. At least not to conventional thinking. Conventional thinking didn’t take into account wormhole technology.

  The ships penetrated the frontier behind an attack by hyper VI ships that took out all the frontier patrols. Those task groups then followed the hyper VII groups halfway to their targets. Enemy ships
picked up the VIIs, but had no means of telling their high command, or even the system commanders, that trouble was coming.

  “The first group will be hitting any moment, your Majesty,” said CNO McCollum as Sean took a seat in the war room under the Hexagon. The room was full of people, tactical experts, intelligence specialists, and the aides that kept everything running smoothly. And, of course, the Marines who provided security for this top secret facility, and those who were playing baby sitter for the Emperor.

  “And the group commanders have a free hand?” asked Sean, looking from holo to holo until he had covered all six of them. Right now they were just showing a tactical representation of the groups in hyper, superimposed with the star map of the border region.

  “As per your instruction, your Majesty,” said the CNO, who looked like she had mixed feelings about that.

  I can understand that, thought the Monarch. For centuries the Fleet tradition was that the senior officer on the spot was God. Technology made it so nothing else made sense. Now they could watch the battle develop in almost real time, at least as far as the flagships were concerned. And senior commanders who were no longer on the line could become tempted to relive their glory days by mismanagement. Sean had killed that nonsense before it could get started. Commanders could watch, even as he was about to, but they could only advise.

  “Two minutes until the final jump,” called out one of the officers manning a tactical board, and one of the holos started to blink.

  Almost simultaneous were the catch words, thought Sean, seeing the thirty ships of that group moving toward the barrier. Five of the hyper VII light cruisers were closest to the barrier. They would jump first, then get a good scan of the system to transmit by wormhole com back to the battleships and battle cruisers. Those ships would be ready to fire as soon as they translated, something else that might catch the enemy by surprise.