The Lost Swarm

by Vaughn Heppner

  The colonel also sat as he cleared his throat.

  A far hatch opened, and a tall woman wearing a Star Watch uniform marched in. She was Commandant Konev, with red hair and a mole on her left cheek. She ran the Builder Scanner and had been the one to warn High Command about the original Swarm Invasion those many years ago.

  Konev saluted the Lord High Admiral.

  The old man nodded. “I’m glad you could take the time—”

  “Sir,” Konev said, interrupting. “It is I who am glad to have you here. We have witnessed some astonishing events the past few days.”

  “I received your message,” Cook said. “And I’ve already studied the images. Thrax appears to have gathered more ships than we expected he could have.”

  “We have pinpointed his new colony planet,” Konev said. “If you would like a guided tour…?”

  O’Hara noted the commandant’s pride of accomplishment.

  “By all means,” Cook said. “Show us.”

  As she sat at the conference table, Commandant Konev picked up a clicker and aimed at the screens above.

  Mary raised her head.

  The multi-screens wavered. Then, they saw the Mira Binary System as if from one-quarter light-year away. They spied the huge red giant, the bridge mass from it going 70 AUs to the hot white dwarf. In the distance was the Jupiter-like gas giant with its thirteen large moons.

  Konev clicked the device.

  The scene jumped so they centered on the gas giant and its thirteen big moons.

  Another click, another jump, and they saw the rocky Earth-sized moon with its frozen atmosphere.

  “It will become interesting soon,” Konev said in an excited voice.

  Mary’s palms felt sweaty. Who knew that the Pluto commandant could be a showman? This was fantastic technology, to be sure. They could witness reality three hundred light-years away. The Builder Scanner could also focus to a very narrow range.

  The scene shimmered, and now they saw twelve star cruisers in orbit around the Earth-sized moon. From the moon, from underneath high cloud cover, attack saucers started the journey up to orbital space.

  “Notice the numbering,” Konev said.

  Mary sat forward as small numbers appeared by each attack saucer.

  “One hundred and thirty-five Swarm vessels,” Konev said. “There are others, but the bugs are holding them back, for colony defense presumably.”

  “How many more?” asked Cook.

  “Fifteen,” Konev said.

  “Where are the—?” Cook asked.

  “There, sir,” Konev said, in her excitement interrupting the old man.

  The scene changed once more. This time, it focused on the gas giant and its methane clouds. Four great spherical vessels rose up from the planetary cloud cover.

  “Are those Swarm vessels?” Cook asked.

  “Not Swarm design, sir,” Konev said. “Those are Juggernauts.”

  “Yes, yes, of course,” Cook said. “I knew they looked familiar.”

  “Have you spotted any sign of androids?” Mary asked.

  “None, Brigadier,” Konev said.

  Mary cleared her throat. Cook glanced at her and shook his head. Mary looked down at her hands. She did not wear a uniform, but civilian garb. Konev must remember her from the first Swarm War when Mary had run Intelligence.

  “I’ll give you a close-up,” Konev said.

  The screens shimmered once more, and they studied the Juggernauts. It was uncanny. How could they be doing this from three hundred light-years away? It made no sense, but it was Builder technology. There was little like it in the universe.

  “Laser cannons,” Cook said. “The Juggernauts have heavy laser cannons. That’s Swarm technology.”

  “Not necessarily,” Konev said. “Juggernauts, old Rull or android vessels, are known for their heavy lasers. If Thrax’s bugs found these Juggernauts, maybe they upgraded their saucer lasers with the Rull technology.”

  Cook studied the commandant. “Have you discovered the whereabouts of the Throne World?”

  Konev shook her head. “We’ve tried. Oh, how we’ve tried. I’m beginning to wonder if the Throne World possesses planetary cloaking.”

  “Cloaking proof against the Builder Scanner?” asked Cook.

  “I know that sounds incredible, but yes, I think so.”

  “Methuselah Man Strand,” Mary said. “If the Throne World has such cloaking, it would be because of him.”

  The Lord High Admiral nodded.

  “Do you want me to speed up?” Konev asked.

  “I would very much like that,” Cook said.

  “This is from three days ago,” Konev said, as she tapped her clicker several times.

  On the screens, one hundred and thirty-five attack saucers in three distinct squadrons headed away from the colony world. Behind them followed twelve star cruisers. Behind the star cruisers followed the four huge Juggernauts.

  An attack saucer had a main bulk and a ring of metal around it, giving it the saucer shape. Each attack saucer was the same size, having three-quarters the mass of a star cruiser.

  A star cruiser was triangular-shaped and silver colored. Each star cruiser had advanced technology, and if historical precedent held true, was much deadlier than an attack saucer.

  A Juggernaut was huge, a giant ball bearing twenty kilometers in diameter, heavily armored and usually possessing a powerful shield. They gave the Swarm vastly more firepower and the ability to come in close and try to slug it out head-to-head with any known warship.

  In all, the enemy had one hundred and fifty-one warships, a potent fleet in these times. If Star Watch hadn’t know anything about this, and if the Joint Fleet had struck the Commonwealth out of the dark, the enemy might have been able to hit hard and fast enough that Star Watch would never have been able to face them on equal terms. If the enemy had hit hard and fast enough, they might have been able to take out Star Watch’s warships piecemeal.

  That wouldn’t have been likely, of course, but the possibility would have existed. It took time gathering warships from different star systems. A message could only travel as fast as a ship could jump. The long-range Builder com devices—the few in human hands—allowed Star Watch and the Throne World New Men a fantastic advantage.

  As long as the enemy fleet remained together and kept attacking, the enemy didn’t need the long-range communication. For a defense, it was critical.

  “What’s going out to face them?” Mary asked.

  The Lord High Admiral studied her. “I’m sorry,” he said. “That’s privileged information.”

  Mary blushed with embarrassment, but she understood. Cook still didn’t fully trust her. If she knew how many ships were heading into the Beyond, she could calculate how many were remaining behind. If the shadowy power that had rayed her mind on the island captured her, they would learn too much.

  Still, the distrust ate at Mary.

  “If you’ll excuse us,” Cook said, cocking an eyebrow at her.

  Mary rose stiffly and headed for the hatch, keeping her shoulders high. She was the old man’s advisor…on certain topics. For now, she would have to be happy with that. Oh, how she wished her mind were completely her own and that she was back in Intelligence.

  PART V

  BATTLE IN THE BEYOND

  -1-

  The Lord High Admiral remained at the Pluto Base, deep underground near the Builder Scanner. Commandant Konev’s people kept a strict watch on the enemy’s Joint Fleet. The saucers, star cruisers and Juggernauts stayed together. They used a combination of Laumer Points and star-drive jumps to head inward toward the Commonwealth, the Builder Scanner always picking them up again.

  “I’d like to see and hear their council meetings,” Cook told Mary. “I wish I knew if Drakos is leading Thrax or if Thrax has gained the upper hand.”

  “Do you think Commander Thrax is there with his attack saucers?” Mary asked.

  The Lord High Admiral stared at her, rose and lumbered a
round the room in a circle. He was shaking his white-haired head. “I hadn’t even thought of that,” Cook said. “Is Thrax there? I had just assumed he was.”

  “I wouldn’t get too worked up about it,” Mary said. “From what we know, Thrax is clever. He’ll stay near the bedrock of his power.”

  “Meaning?”

  “His power lies in the attack saucers. I think we can safely assume that Thrax is too paranoid to be elsewhere. Otherwise, he risks another Swarm creature supplanting him as commander.”

  “Do Swarm creatures operate like that?”

  “Not the Imperial Swarm,” Mary said. “These are hybrids, though, creations of the Builder at the great Dyson Sphere.”

  “I’ve read the reports,” Cook said grumpily, running a hand through his thick white hair.

  “Well,” Mary said, “according to you, the Joint Fleet is rushing to the Commonwealth. You asked who was in charge. Their actions indicate it is Drakos’s plan, which means he must be in charge. By the way, when do the Emperor’s ships join our fleet?”

  Cook had stopped pacing. He studied the former Brigadier. “Let me ask you a question first. Have you heard any voices in your head lately?”

  Mary shook her head.

  “Would you tell me if you had?”

  “Immediately,” she said. “You must know that.”

  Cook sighed, cracked his knuckles and sat down. “Believe you me, I want to tell you exactly what’s happening. But I must refrain. I owe it to the people of Star Watch to take some basic precautions with you.”

  “I agree,” Mary said, hating this feeling. “In fact, I’m a security risk. You should send me back to Earth.”

  “Oh no,” Cook said. “You’re staying put. Pluto’s security is just as good as that of Earth, maybe better. Besides, I may have to ask for advice later. I don’t want to speak to you via com with a huge time lag.”

  Mary nodded, and that ended the latest meeting between them.

  While this was taking place, Commandant Konev and her people searched for the Emperor’s flotilla. The Emperor had sent word that Golden Ural would command the star cruisers.

  Star Watch’s battle fleet headed for “C” Quadrant. Admiral Vincent Byron III from a former Windsor League planet led the formation. Since Byron was a Star Watch officer, he did not use his Windsor League rank. He was a Viscount of Flanders, an agricultural world known for its abundance of crops.

  In the old days, the battle command would have gone to Admiral Fletcher, retired now. Fletcher had grown ill since retiring, often drinking too much, some said to drown his sorrows from losing so many ships in the attack on the Forbidden Planet. That had been a rough one, and Fletcher had aged terribly since then.

  Vincent Byron III was a tall, aristocratic man in his early fifties. He wore a scarlet uniform in keeping with his Windsor League heritage. He looked every inch an ancient English sea lord, especially with his wavy blond hair, but he had a sharp mind and a keen tactical sense. Cook liked and admired Byron. The Lord High Admiral had been to Flanders before and admired the people, industrious and quiet, but with elegant lords and ladies.

  Byron had spoken to Cook before leaving on the assignment. They had met in the Sigma Draconis System aboard the Sargon. That had been a week and a half ago already.

  They had met in the Lord High Admiral’s wardroom, the two sipping brandies as they sat on ornate chairs.

  “This one is up to you, Admiral,” Cook said. “We can call your formation the Grand Fleet, but you won’t even have one hundred ships. Almost one hundred, but not quite.”

  Byron had sat upright in his chair, a brandy snifter in his right hand. “No thanks,” he said in his elegant voice. He had a long face and seldom smiled, although there was something that sparkled now and again in his eyes. The Psych file said it was quiet humor.

  “From what we know so far, your ships should be better technologically than the enemy’s vessels,” Cook said. “I’m not giving you any of the Conqueror-class battleships. But I am giving you fifteen Bismarck-class battleships, including my old flagship, the Kaiser Wilhelm.”

  Byron swirled his brandy thoughtfully.

  “Those fifteen are the only ships with the new upgrades from the Heavy Metals Planet,” Cook said.

  “My hard core of the best ships, eh?” asked Byron.

  “I won’t tell you how to use them. That’s your task. I’m trusting you, the Commonwealth is trusting you, to use your fleet to its best advantage.”

  “Don’t fail, eh?”

  “Exactly,” Cook said. “Do you think you can do the job?”

  “I wouldn’t have accepted the command, sir, if I didn’t.”

  Cook nodded as he tried to assess the admiral. That’s why he’d rushed out in the Sargon, to study the admiral in person one last time. Choosing the right commander for a mission like this was essential. Byron had been a commodore during the First Swarm War. He had been with Fletcher at the Forbidden Planet and had fought brilliantly against the androids recently. Every time, Byron had fought with courage and distinction. If he failed now, though, it would all be for naught. But Star Watch had to give new people independent command sometime. Was Byron another Fletcher? Cook prayed to God that the Flanders aristocrat had what it took to give Star Watch another naval victory.

  “Fifteen battleships,” Cook said, “plus ten older-model monitors already in position, sixteen heavy cruisers, thirteen attack cruisers and four carriers. That’s the heart of your fleet and all the capital ships Star Watch can spare. You’ll have twelve destroyers and eighteen escort ships whose crews are Patrol-trained for duty in the Beyond. You’ll also have eight heavy supply vessels of the Herford-class. Ninety-eight ships to destroy a Joint Fleet of attack saucers, star cruisers and four Juggernauts. Any questions so far?” asked Cook.

  Byron swirled the brandy one more time before setting the snifter on a side table. He adjusted his scarlet uniform and stared the Lord High Admiral in the eyes.

  “I have two, sir,” Byron said. “How do I treat the Emperor’s New Men, and how much do you expect me to listen to Captain Maddox?”

  “Let’s take the harder one first,” Cook said. “The New Men are your allies. Treat them with respect. They will not respond well otherwise. However, you cannot give them slavish praise or act meekly in their presence. It’s a tightrope, Admiral. Frankly, one of the reasons I chose you for this mission is that I think you’ll know how to deal with the New Men.”

  “Thank you for the trust, sir.”

  Cook nodded. “It’s a tightrope. New Men are fickle and intensely arrogant. I hope you don’t anger them. But I also hope you show them that we’re as good as they are.”

  “But without saying that with words, eh?” asked Byron.

  “I hope so.”

  Byron frowned, but he smoothed it away. “Captain Maddox?”

  Cook took a deep breath. “Maddox is used to having line officers hating him. That would be a bad idea on your part, Admiral.”

  “I see,” Byron said.

  “You’re in charge,” Cook said. “You have the authority. Captain Maddox is an unorthodox commander. He has a fantastic record of success, though. In your place, I would consider him a tremendous resource. He may give you the key to victory in fact. I hope you’re man enough to take it if offered.”

  “That could almost be construed as an insult, sir.”

  “It could,” Cook admitted. “Do you see it as such?”

  “That would depend.”

  “Don’t let your aristocratic outlook blind you to Maddox’s utility. He’s saved my life more than once.”

  “Why not put him in charge of the fleet then?” Byron asked.

  “I thought about it,” Cook admitted. “I don’t think that’s the best use of the captain’s talents, though. He works best when a strong authority figure is there to balance him.”

  Admiral Byron said nothing.

  “Do you dislike the man?” Cook asked. “If so, I want to know now.”r />
  “No, sir,” Byron said slowly. “I admire quick thinking. I admire winning, which the captain often does. He is unorthodox as you say.” The admiral shrugged. “I hope he knows how to follow orders.”

  “If they suit his taste and if they’re wise. If not, he will do as he pleases and probably succeed at whatever he does.”

  “That sounds mystical and disorderly.”

  “I suppose,” Cook said, having misgivings now about letting Vincent Byron III command the battle fleet. Was it too late to change commanders? Likely so. Byron had rushed back in a speedster for this meeting and would have to rush back. This gesture would help the fleet officers and personnel trust the commander. If Cook used it to disrupt the command structure…no, it was too late.

  “Use your judgment, Admiral. Cherish Maddox, but make sure in the end that you run the fleet. It has been given into your care and is therefore your responsibility.”

  “And Maddox’s starship? Is he under my command?”

  Cook eyed the aristocrat. “Technically, I suppose he is. But I suggest you treat Victory as Maddox’s private preserve.” The old man shifted in his chair, scowling and finally leaning forward. He lowered his voice. “Admiral, I’m going to tell you a secret. At all costs, win. Whatever else you do, win. In the end, nothing else matters.”

  “Nothing, eh?”

  “Nothing,” Cook said, ending the briefing.

  -2-

  Lord Drakos curled in his private gym aboard the Agamemnon, doing heavy sets as he pumped his biceps. He had already squatted, and his thighs were engorged with blood.

  The private room was small and completely walled with mirrors. The superior was quite naked and glistening with sweat as he admired himself from many angles. Drakos believed that his physique was perfect. A taller superior would have leaner muscles, far too lean if still steely strong. A shorter superior would have bulkier muscles that would get in the way. Too much bulk stole speed.