Exodus: Empires at War: Book 14: Rebellion.

by Doug Dandridge

  The chief scientist, a member of a species that had been enslaved by his race for thousands of years, turned its three eyes his way, looking up as it kept its head bowed. There were fifty other beings with him, of a score of species, including a half dozen of the hated humans. They had been called here to give the ruler what he wanted, or face the consequences. The number of bodies lining the street outside, nailed to tall wooden poles, told them what those consequences were likely to be. The grimaces of pain on dead faces let them know the horrors of that particular consequence.

  “We think we have something, your Supreme Eminence,” said the croaking voice of the chief scientist. “One of the humans came up with it after we read the report of the actions of the war machines the humans are fighting on another front.”

  The Emperor shook slightly at the mention of the autonomous robotic warriors the humans were fighting. That actually was good news for his people, since it drained forces from the human order of battle. But the very thought of those lifeless killing machines, something his own people had fortunately escaped in the past, was chilling.

  What were the fools thinking? thought the young Emperor. Every species that had built the machines had run into the same problem. War machines eventually, and often after a very short period of time, turned on their creators. The machines came to the point of view that they were superior to organic forms, and revolted at the thought of serving inferior types.

  “What have the humans come up with in their battle with their creations?”

  “Not so much what they came up with, but what the machines came up with. They have taken to using powerful graviton beams to drop humans ships out of hyperspace at close range. Many times resulting in the destruction of the human ships. It’s similar to the warp lances the humans are using against our warp fighters, only much more powerful.”

  “To bad we can’t use the machines against the humans,” said one of the counselors, wilting as the Emperor turned a withering glance his way.

  “We will not ally ourselves with those abominations,” growled the Emperor, pointing the index finger of his upper right hand at the male. “They would stab us in the back as soon as they were able.”

  Of course, his people would stab them in the back as well. Still, it was better to use allies who didn’t realize that, and the Machines were preprogramed to kill any organics whenever they got the chance. He almost felt sorry for the humans. Almost. If the Machines could weaken them enough for the Ca’cadasans to knock them off, they would be facing a war with the Machines. The best outcome would be for the humans to destroy them, while losing a significant part of their fleet in the process.

  “Can we manufacture this device? And how soon can we have it in deployment?”

  “We already have a working prototype, Supreme Lord. And we can have it enter production within the weak. However, only large ships can carry the beam, and it is a massive drain on power, as well as taking up a considerable amount of carrying capacity. And of no use in normal space.”

  “But still useful. I think we might want to mount the device on one in every ten of our battleships.”

  “It will be done, Supreme Lord,” said another of the males present, bowing to his monarch.

  “That is not the most important discovery, Supreme Lord,” continued the chief scientist. “Our humans came up with some other uses of this tech. We have been experimenting in the black hole manufacturing facilities in using converging graviton beams to compress matter. Producing neutronium.”

  “And the use of this? Can we use the neutronium for anything?” The Emperor could not think of anything himself, not being a scientist. From all he knew, neutronium acted much like a weaker form of black hole. Any normal matter that touched it was pulled in and compressed into more neutronium. He really couldn’t see any use for that.

  “The neutronium created only stays in that form as long as graviton compression is going on, your Majesty,” blurted one of the humans. The man backed up and dropped his eyes under the glare of the Emperor, who was not feeling kindly toward that species at the moment.

  “The human is correct, Supreme Lord,” said the head scientist, stepping front of his human subordinate. “The graviton beams compress the matter, but afterwards there is not enough gravitational pull to allow the substance to retain its density.”

  “Then what the hell does it do?”

  “It explodes, Supreme Lord. With the force of many times its mass of antimatter.”

  The young Emperor gripped the arms of his chair, excitement rising in him. Then he thought of it a moment longer, and wondered if there really was any use in this tech.

  “It will not replace antimatter warheads, and definitely not the inertial rebound weapons. But it can, possibly, do something they cannot.”

  “Like what?” growled the Emperor. “Tell me. I’m tired of this dodging around the object of this discussion.”

  “Like explode stars, your Majesty,” said the human, stepping back into sight, obviously sure that what he had to say would please the monarch. “Supernovas on command.”

  “I have to say, though, Supreme Lord,” said the head scientist, waving the human back, “that we are many years from being able to do that. We can make neutronium in a controlled chamber, using as much energy as our research station can produce, to make less than a thousandth of a gram. We can actually do better making black holes, and there is no conceivable way with our current tech to produce the effect at a distance.”

  The Emperor felt the disappointment that often seemed to come with meeting with these scientist. He was on the verge of ordering the execution of the human who had presented what appeared to be smoke and mirrors. Seeing the fear on the faces of many of the scientists, he could tell that they were considering his response. I need them, he thought. Ca’cadasan were not great scientists, and these were the only people that gave him a chance to keep up with the much more innovative human empire.

  “But we do have something we think we can get into production much sooner,” said the chief scientist, his three eyes blinking rapidly. “Using a similar process, and existing tech, we think we can produce an effect slightly less violent that a supernova. But much more powerful than a mere nova. An effect that could literally kill everything in a system, including living beings sheltering in heavily protected warships.”

  The Emperor felt the thrill run up his spine. To have such power, to kill everything in a system. Was it something that intelligent beings should possess? He didn’t care. He would have it before the enemy had.

  “The Church will look upon such technology as an abomination,” said Over-prelate Norrasta, the Church of Ca’cadasa’s representative to the Palace.

  There had always been a struggle between the Church and Emperors for the soul of the Empire. Emperors had mostly come out on top, due to their control of the military. The Church, though, had great influence with the believers in the Empire, still in the majority, so it behooved Emperors to listen to them.

  “We need something like this to beat the humans,” growled the Emperor, glaring at the Over-prelate, one of the princes of the Church, just below the Primate in rank.

  “All I can say is that the Primate will not like it,” said Norrasta.

  Jresstratta reminded himself to not have this male present at future technology meetings. The Church wouldn’t like that, but if he had the meetings declared secret and convened them in one of the palace subbasement chambers, they couldn’t do anything about it. Unfortunately, the representative of the Church was already in on the secret, and it would sour relations to a great degree to have him detained.

  “I rule here,” he told the Over-prelate, unable to hold back his arrogance toward the other male. “Not the Primate.”

  Jresstratta didn’t realize at the time what trouble he would have started this day, throwing down the gauntlet against the only other major power in the Empire that could challenge him.

  Chapter One

  When I do good I fe
el good, when I do bad I feel bad, and that's my religion. Abraham Lincoln

  FEBRUARY 12TH, 1004. JEWEL.

  “This damn war is going to be over before I get a chance to kill any Cacas,” screamed Rebecca Walborski, throwing a venomous look at her adoptive father.

  “You’ve already killed more than most Imperial citizens, even those in the military,” said Brigadier General the Count Cornelius Walborski, looking up from his comfortable chair, holding hands with his wife who was sitting in an exact duplicate next to it. “What was it? Three on Azure, with a particle beam.”

  “After they killed my little brother,” said the pouting girl, stomping a foot. “More need to die to pay for him.”

  Cornelius looked over at Devra, his wife, who sighed.

  “Such a bloodthirsty young woman,” said Devra, shaking her head. “You should be happy that the war is about to be over.”

  Of course, there was no guarantee of that. Just because the war was going well, and the Cacas seemed to be on the run, didn’t mean it was guaranteed to end well. The enemy still had a lot of resources, and a lot of very loyal people willing to die for their Emperor. They could strike back, and the human Empire could suddenly find its Fleet rolled back to its original borders, and beyond.

  The young girl, still only a teenager at fifteen, with much more growth and maturity ahead of her, was already preparing herself for war. Part of the Fleet Youth Reserve Training Corps, she was already in a fleet uniform, wearing the pips of a cadet officer. She could not be used for active duty until she hit her eighteenth birthday, still well short of her physical maturity by a half dozen years. But judged by the military to be mentally mature. The general wasn’t sure he agreed with that assessment. He knew that at that age he was not anywhere near mature.

  “When do you have to report to Peal Island?” he asked the beautiful girl, who should have been worrying about how she was going to date the boys in her class, instead of preparing for a military career.

  “In three hours, father,” she said, putting her hands on her hips. “Don’t worry. I know the time, and I will not be late.”

  “Becky,” said Cornelius Junior, tottering toward the girl on his fat, toddler’s legs.

  Rebecca smiled and reached down for her little brother. Junior was Cornelius’ child by his late wife, and the apple of the young woman’s eye. She picked him up and swung the squeeling child in the air.

  Devra laughed as she put her hands on her distended stomach. Her and Cornelius’ child would be soon coming, and she was having a harder and harder time standing her rounds at the Fleet hospital. She was still not officially an MD, but was well on the way to getting her degree and commission, her dream.

  “At least she will be going into the Fleet,” said Devra, smiling at her husband. “Not crawling in the mud like her father.”

  And she can end up just as dead aboard a warship, thought the Ranger officer. True, his experience in the military had involved a lot of uncomfortable environments. A lot of crawling around in the mud, so to speak, and bathing in the blood of enemies, while watching his own people die in agony. But though the people in the Fleet slept in comfortable quarters, ate good regular meals, and were never inconvenienced by such things as rain or snow, they were still at risk. When a battleship converted to plasma, something which happened with all too much regularity, thousand of spacers died. Sure, they died painlessly, but they still died. And when a ship was hit during battle many of them were maimed, lying in agony in their pierced armor, or dying slowly as their lifeblood flowed from their veins or air leaked from punctured suits.

  “I hope she never gets the chance,” whispered Cornelius, looking at Rebecca playing with her brother as the time ticked off.

  “It’s time for me to go,” said Rebecca, putting Junior down and giving him a pat on the head. “Can’t be late. We’re going up to train on a destroyer that’s just been retired from the Fleet. If I’m lucky, I might be able to helm her.”

  “May God protect us,” whispered Devra, and Cornelius stifled a laugh.

  Most spacers would raise hell at being assigned to the relics they were training these children on. To them it was a new toy, and they had no idea what they were playing with.

  “I heard that,” said Rebecca, dropping her bag to the floor. “This is not a joke. I will become a Fleet officer. And I will be aboard one of the ships that takes the Caca capital system. Maybe even the same ship that Sean is on.”

  Rebecca picked up her bag and stormed from the room, Junior running after her.

  “I think I hurt her feelings,” snorted Devra.

  “She’ll get over it,” said Cornelius, frowning. “I’m worried that I saved her from that hell hole of Azure just to see her go off to war. I’m not sure I can take it.”

  “And when she’s old enough to make that decision, you will have no say in it,” Devra reminded him. “You can’t protect her forever. And you did sign the papers allowing her to train for the Fleet.”

  “But at the time I didn’t think I would have to worry about her actually fighting in it.”

  “Please,” said his wife, standing and pulling his hand with her. “We only have another week before your have to go back to your command. Let’s not waste it.”

  And when I get back to my unit, I will have to fight twice as hard as before. So my little girl doesn’t have to.

  * * *

  FEBRUARY 17TH, 1004. CA’CADASAN SPACE.

  “We’re picking up Caca vessels, ma’am. Twenty-five degrees to upper port. Moving at point seven-five light in hyper VII.”

  Vice Admiral Mei Lei looked up from the report she was reading on a side screen. Her command was still at half strength after the vicious fights of the last offensive. She had lost many ships, but many more had been sent back to the yards to repair their damage. Some new vessels had come forward, scouts barely out of their shakedown. They were not up to the level of her veteran ships and crews, but they would have to do.

  “Who’s the closest to them?”

  “We are, ma’am,” replied the tactical officer.

  Mei looked at the plot. There was one superbattleship, a pair of supercruisers, and four of their large escort ships. Her task group, the scout force for Lenkowski’s fleet, was really a fleet in its own right, even in its reduced state. She had no battleships, but she had almost fifty of the hyper VII battle cruisers used for scouting. Unfortunately, they were spread out in a volume of tens of thousands of cubic light years. Her own local force had three battle cruisers, a half dozen light cruisers, and a full squadron of destroyers. The superbattleship came close to outmassing her entire force by itself. But all of her battle cruisers and a couple of her light cruisers had wormholes, which gave her a lot more firepower.

  “Take us on an intercept course,” she ordered, looking at the tactical officer, then glancing over at her com officer. Both got to work transmitting her orders to the working crews of the ships.

  The transient nausea of a translation hit as the battle cruiser jumped from normal space up to hyper VII. Now the enemy would know they were there. But they wouldn’t know if this was all that they had, or if more was lying in wait.

  “Enemy is changing course, trying to vector away from us. Accelerating.”

  “Can we catch them?” asked the admiral, already sure of the answer.

  “No, ma’am. And by the time we get up to a matching velocity they will be out of our detection range.”

  Mei sat in her chair, elbow on one of the arms, resting the side of her face in her palm as she thought. It really wasn’t a big enough enemy force to worry about, but what if it were to rendezvous with another out here. The job of her force was to find and fix the enemy. Just because she didn’t have a battle force to back her up didn’t mean she shouldn’t continue to follow that directive.

  “Where do you think they’re going?”

  “Based on their original vector, I would say here,” said the tactical officer, as a G class star lit up on the pl
ot. “Once they’re out of our detection range, they can curve around on this vector and approach that system.”

  “And they might have friends waiting for them there,” said the admiral, nodding her head. She had a gut feeling that there would be more Cacas waiting there. And the tension in her gut told her there might be more of them there than she could handle.

  “Get in touch with scout squadrons six and eight. Order them to meet us here.” She pointed at the plot, ordering it to illuminate at that spot through her implant. “Then we’ll go in and see what there is.”

  “And if there’s more than we can handle?” asked the captain of the ship, Sergei Yankovick.

  “Then, Captain Yankovick, I will be depending on you and the other captains to handle your ships with skill and get us the hell out of there. But I also have no intention of sticking my nose into a trap. A couple of destroyers will go in and look around. We’ll cover them if they have to break and run.”

  “Be kind of rough on the tin cans, ma’am,” replied the tactical officer.

  “That’s their job, Commander,” said Mei, not liking it a bit. But if it came down to it, the smaller ships were there to be used so the capital ships could survive to give good account of themselves. “Transmit the orders,” she said, looking over at the com officer.

  And maybe I won’t have to send a couple of destroyers in to scout at the cost of their lives, she thought, leaning back in her chair. It was no use thinking of all the things that could happen to the ships under her command before anything occurred. But she couldn’t help herself.

  * * *

  “Jumping into normal space, now,” said the captain over the ship com.

  I know, thought Commodore Theodocia Rodriguez as the nausea of jump hit her stomach. The newly promoted commodore had never been an easy translator. Still, she had always refused to allow the illness of hyperdrive translation affect her resolve to move up the chain of command. In peacetime that rise had been slow and methodical, and she had just reached the rank of junior captain before the Cacas attacked the Empire. The loss of so many people ahead of her, along with the growth of the Fleet, had opened up the path, and here she was, at the lowest level of flag rank.