Exodus: Empires at War: Book 10: Search & Destroy

by Doug Dandridge

  “We’re still going to suffer heavy losses,” warned the Tactical Officer. “There is no way around it, my Lord.”

  “We knew that going in,” said the Great Admiral with a predator’s smile. But if we play it right, I can still gut their fleet.

  * * *

  Admiral Regis Larista sat in her command chair and tried to follow the battle to the best of her ability. Unfortunately, one sentient mind could not deal with the numbers and the carnage of a battle like this. Over a hundred thousand vessels were involved, and missiles numbering in the millions. Over a million gigatons of explosive power was released over a period of hours. Only the scale of the space containing the battle made that release of heat, radiation and blast power less than totally destructive. Tens of thousands of ships died, blasted into plasma or small pieces. Others were gutted, spinning through space as derelicts. Millions died, hundreds of thousands were injured, thousands were stranded on dead ships, or fell through space in their protective suits, hoping and praying for a rescue that was unlikely, as the would be rescuers were too busy trying to survive.

  Trillions of Imperials worth of industrial facilities and equipment spun in fragments through orbits, now hazards to navigation. Several moons and planets had been hit, most by accident, though a significant portion of the inhabited prime world was now unihabitable.

  It was almost too much for a single mind to handle, and the Admiral found herself rejecting the scope of the carnage. Almost half of the enemy fleet was now on the edge of the hyper barrier, soon to translate out. The half of the fleet that was gone was more than an equal for what she had lost, and at this point her force was at least three times more powerful than that of the Monsters. They had lost millions as well, and just over six thousand ships.

  Those were not my people, she thought of the Monsters. She had no sympathy for them, and couldn’t have cared less if the entire species died this day. But the people she commanded were hers. She cared about them, and it tore at her heart to have led them to their deaths. Now she could not let the enemy force go. It had to be destroyed, at all costs, so that the sacrifice of her people would have meant something.

  “Orders, Admiral?” asked her Chief of Staff.

  “The fleet will follow the Monsters into hyper. And we will destroy them.”

  She looked once again at the plot that showed the enemy fleet fighting its way through the last blocking force. An enemy ship fell off the plot here and there, destroyed, no longer emitting gravitons. And for each enemy ship, scores of her own.

  A good number of her ships were capable of travel through hyper VII as well, and all of her vessels could out accelerate the Monsters. The Ca’cadasans, those that made it back to their base, would find the howling hordes of the Klavarta plaguing them the whole way. They would have nightmares about running that gauntlet, those who lived.

  “Order all ships capable to head out to the hyper barrier and form up. We will chase them as long as possible and destroy as many as we can.”

  * * *

  “It looks like they are going to follow, my Lord,” said the Tactical Officer.

  “Good,” replied the Great Admiral, looking at the plot that showed the overall battle going on outside the hull, then at a viewer showing a real time view of the space to one side of the great vessel.

  Flares flashed in the darkness, their diminutive size in the distance belaying the power of their warheads. Ships disappeared from the plot, each containing from hundreds to thousands of intelligent beings. Those beings who were not Cacada he really didn’t care about. He cared somewhat for his own kind, though, since they were warriors, the fate of most was to give their lives to the Empire.

  “Jumping, now,” called out the Helm Officer, and the nausea came on once again.

  “They’re jumping after us,” called out the Tactical Officer moments later.

  Two days, thought the Great Admiral, watching a cascade of icons jumping into hyper I, staying on his trail. There was a string of ships stretching back almost a light hour to the other side of the barrier, all streaming after him. And if he wasn’t mistaken, some of those icons denoted Imperial human ships, capital ships, more prizes. Two days. If we can keep them on the hook for two more days, they will see who is trapping who.

  Chapter Nine

  Destroy the seed of evil, or it will grow up to your ruin.

  Aesop

  IMPERIAL SPACE. AUGUST 30TH, 1002

  “We’re receiving a grav wave Mayday from the liner Star of Zambez,” said the Com Officer, looking back at her Captain.

  “Why didn’t they just blow her out of space” asked the Tactical Officer. “Why are they changing the way they’re operating?”

  “That is a very good question, Lieutenant,” said Captain Francois Pasce, staring at the plot. “What in the hell are they doing?”

  There was a lot of discussion going on among the bridge crew of the Scranton. And it was the lowest ranking, a Sensor Tech First, who came up with the most likely answer.

  “They’re giving us a choice, sir,” said the Tech, looking at the plot. Ahead, at extreme sensor range, were three objects. Two were the ships they had been following, the Fenri battle cruiser and her consort, a light cruiser. And with them, trapped under their guns, was the seven million ton vessel that was transmitting the grav pulse call for help. A large hyper VI passenger liner, whose specifications included space for nine thousand passengers. Meaning, in wartime, she probably had several thousand more people aboard.

  “A choice?”

  “Yes, sir. We can continue to follow them, or we can try and stage a rescue of the liner.”

  “And why don’t they just keep the liner with them?” asked the Exec over the com.

  “Because we would still follow them, no matter what threats they made,” said Pasce, looking at the tech and thinking that a promotion was in the future of someone with such a good mind. “But if they leave the liner behind, with some Fenri Marines aboard, we would have to stage a rescue mission of some type.”

  “But they would have to know we would have one ship stage the rescue, and the other follow them,” replied the XO.

  “Yes, they would. So they have something else up their sleeves.”

  “And it would make it easier to take out a single shadower,” chimed in the Tactical Officer. “They might have already started killing the passengers and crew. We could end up taking back a ship filled with the dead.”

  If only we had the life form sensor of legend, thought Pasce. Unfortunately, the Universe didn’t seem to work that way. Living creatures did not give off an energy field that was detectable against the background of the Universe, much less all of the emissions of a spaceship. The only way to find out if biological forms were still existing in that state known as life was to go to the place and observe.

  “We can’t take that chance,” said the Captain, shaking his head. “We must make the attempt.”

  “When?” asked the Exec.

  “After the warships move off, of course. It really wouldn’t do to have them blow us out of space while we’re trying to board the liner. But we can go ahead and get the boarding party together.” The Captain looked something up over his implant for a moment. “Send Lieutenant Janvier to the conference room,” he ordered, naming his Officer of Marines. “Let get the Marines from Collins aboard. We’ll make the assault, while Collins continues to track the enemy ships.”

  Pasce thought for a moment, trying to figure out what else they might be able to do. “Do we have anyone aboard who has experience on that class of liner?”

  “Not aboard this ship, Captain,” said the Exec. “But Collins has a petty officer on board who served on a similar class of ship. A Winston Nagawa.”

  “Then let’s get him on board as well,” ordered Pasce. “If you think the Collins could do without him?”

  “I think they can deal with his absence for a little while,” replied the XO. “He’s only an engineering tech, after all.”

  *
* *

  PO 1st Winston Nagawa stood in the hanger of the Scranton, armored up, wondering how in the hell he got into such a situation. It was bad enough to have to be aboard a warship during combat, but to take place in a boarding operation. It struck him as a bad idea, especially in hyperspace. He had images of pirates swinging across from the deck of one planetary ocean ship to the deck of another on ropes that hung from creaking masts. Instead, he would be exiting one ship that was moving through space at a significant percentage of light speed onto another doing the same.

  “You ready, PO?” asked the naval officer who would be in charge of the assault. A Lieutenant JG engineer from the Scranton, in command of a Marine platoon and a couple score of spacers.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be, sir,” answered Nagawa, looking around the hangar at the other armored figures. Thirty-three Marines in battle armor, some heavy, along with thirty spacers wearing their shipboard medium armor. This was team Alpha, which had two initial targets aboard the liner. The engineering section, which contained the only means of blowing up the ship. And the passenger sections along the way, where almost all of the ship’s crew and many of the civilians should be located. Team Bravo, thirty-three Marines and twenty spacers, under command of the Marine commander of Scranton, would be going in on the one hyper capable shuttle available. They would target the bridge, where all the command and control systems converged, and the auxiliary control station.

  “You make sure that nothing happens to you on the way to engineering,” ordered Lt. Mishara with a smile. “You’re the only one who knows his way around this engineering section.”

  “It’s not exactly the same as the ship I served on, sir,” commented Nagawa.

  “Still closer than anything the rest of us have seen, PO.”

  A signal buzzed over the com, and every person in the hangar tensed. “Team Alpha. Check your environmentals. Mission is a go. Mission start time, two minutes.”

  Nagawa ordered his suit to lower his faceplate and looked over the diagnostics of all his systems. Everything was a go. He checked the particle beam rifle hanging around his neck and made sure the proton pack was seated properly and that it was powered up. The same with the backup pistol holstered by his side. His HUD was showing a timer, and when it hit one minute and thirty seconds he went ahead and linked into the ship’s tactical system, in time to see the light cruiser’s laser rings fire brief beams of energy, striking singular points on the liner. The beams were invisible, the strikes were not, and hull alloy flared with each strike. The cruiser rotated around the liner, firing. One beam came back, hitting the cruiser and doing minimal damage, just before being taken out.

  “Liner’s defenses offline. Launching shuttle.”

  On the other side of the cruiser the starboard hangar opened and the hyper capable shuttle flew out into hyperspace, curving around the ships and taking up a station on the reverse side of the liner.

  “Prepare for movement. Twenty seconds.”

  The hatch of the hangar everyone had been standing in slid inward, then split and moved out of the way to both sides. The side of the liner was a couple of kilometers away and moving closer. In seconds they were in close proximity, and the space between was enclosed in the combined hyperfields of the two ships. Magnetic grapples held the two ships together, and Nagawa hoped that the tractor was a secure link. Otherwise, they might be falling out into hyperspace, to their doom.

  “Opening up the Star’s hangar,” came across the tactical net. A bright flash appeared on the hull across from the boarding party, alloy flaring and vaporizing into space. The cruiser put the full power of one ring into the hatch, an eight meter wide spotlight beam that burned through the thin hull of the commercial craft in a couple of seconds.

  “Boarding party, go,” came across the general com.

  Winston wanted to go at that moment, to get the crossing over with. That wasn’t his spot. The initial crossing went to the first squad of the Marines. Twelve heavy battle suits, flying out through the cold plasma field over the hangar hatch, into the forty meters of empty space, and through the opening on the hatch of the liner’s hangar. The Marines went through two at a time, their eyes sweeping the hangar as they entered. Shouts rang out over the com, followed by a short scream. A part of the still intact hangar hatch glowed, as if some beam weapon had struck the other side.

  Two more Marines entered, then another pair, and commands rang back and forth as they engaged in combat on the other ship. More Marines entered, until the entire squad was in the hangar. The second squad launched itself across the space, another twelve heavily armed and armored Marines. More hot spots appeared on the hangar hatch, and one point blew out as something powerful struck.

  “Hangar is secure,” came the voice of the senior Marine Sergeant over the com. “You can start sending the spacers over.”

  That meant Nagawa’s group, and he lifted from the deck and headed out, crossing the space between the ships as quickly as possible. He still had time for a glance upwards, through the combined fields, into the red emptiness of hyperspace. It sent a shiver down his spine, but he was back inside in moments.

  The hangar looked like a battle had been fought. Two Marine suits lay on the floor, one unmoving, a large hole burned through the torso. The other was still moving, but was missing an arm, and one of the newly arrived spacers, a medic, was kneeling by the Marine. There were holes in several places along the walls of the hangar, a shuttle was a total wreck in the middle of the chamber, while another had a hole through the cockpit. Scorch marks were everywhere, the sign of particle beams fired with abandon. And there were a half dozen small armored suits laying in attitudes of death, as well as one that was about the size of a medium suited human, though of non-human design.

  Nagawa knew that the smaller suits were the standard Fenri battle armor, worn by both their spacers and marines, while the large suit was a heavy battle rig worn by their version of special operations troops.

  “Does this look familiar, Nagawa?” asked the LT.

  “It looks just like the hangar on my old ship, sir,” said Winston, looking around for a moment. “That hatch there leads to the central corridor, which is the fastest way to engineering.”

  Like most ships, the engineering section was just off the midline of the vessel, a hundred meters back from the exact middle. Unlike military vessels, the reactors and antimatter containment vessels had multiple failsafes that made it almost impossible to breach on purpose. A powerful enough shape charge could still do the job, and they had to figure that the Fenri would know as much.

  The third squad of Marines came aboard and started to fan out. They would have the job of holding the hangar, so reinforcements could arrive if needed, or the attack force extracted if things really went south.

  “Team Alpha One, move out,” ordered Mishara.

  That’s me, thought Winston, heading over to where a squad of Marines and sixteen spacers were gathering.

  “Let’s move,” said Mishara, coming up to that group, the one he would be leading to engineering. The second team, Alpha Two, had also formed up and was moving toward another hatch. They would start sweeping the ship, trying to find any groups of passengers that were still alive, especially those who might be holding out. All passenger ships, of course, carried some weapons for the security force they brought along to help repel pirates. And many of the passengers, heading out to the frontier, would have weapons stored in the armory for safe keeping. Would they be able to resist armored warriors? Maybe, in large enough numbers.

  As they moved into the corridor and along in the proper direction it soon became apparent that the Fenri had not been interested in keeping everyone alive on the ship. There were bodies along the corridor, men, women, even a few children. Mostly shot down from behind. All had parts of their bodies vaporized, the sign of particle beam weapons. Nagawa could feel his gorge rising at the signs of death, even if he couldn’t smell it sealed as he was in his suit. A few people were lying on
their backs, and he could see the terror that had been etched on their faces as they had faced their deaths.

  These were the kind of people he had served as an engineer in the merchant marine. Some had been wealthy, traveling for the pleasure of seeing new places. Some had been workers going to see family they had not had contact with in generations. Some had been people leaving the core worlds, fleeing the overcrowding to seek new lives. And they had been killed in cold blood by beings that had no respect for their lives. At this moment he felt a deep hate for the Fenri, a level of rage he had never experienced before. If he had a thousand Fenri in front of him at this moment he would have burned them all down. He looked down at his particle beam rifle for a moment, hoping he would get to use it this day.

  A vibration ran through the ship, and the party knew that team Bravo had now entered the picture.

  * * *

  Marine Lt. Sangaston Janvier sat in the copilot seat of the shuttle, looking at the screen that was showing the take of drone that was hovering over the garden dome on the middle forward section of the liner. What he saw on that take was not something that gave him a lot of confidence in their ability to save the passengers and crew of the ship.

  “How many do you count, Ms. Gonzalez?” he asked of the warrant officer who piloted the shuttle.

  “At least a couple of thousand,” said the Pilot. “Full count, two thousand, four hundred and fifty-one. But that doesn’t take into account nooks and crannies where some of them might be tucked away.”

  “So a quarter of the people aboard? Does that mean three quarters of them are elsewhere?”

  “Or already dead,” said the Warrant, her eyes narrowing.