Alien Empire

by Anthony Gillis

  “By a lot.”

  “Then I’m sure we can find some uses. I’ll talk to you once I’ve had some sleep.”

  He closed the call, but unfortunately his plans for sleep failed. Sometime later, he called Jat, who was unsurprisingly, if disappointingly, awake.

  “Darex, I have an idea. How quickly could you get a second ring generator made?”

  “I’m calling them rift portals.”

  “All right, then how quickly could you get a second rift portal made?”

  “If I make it top priority?”

  “Yes…”

  “Two weeks.”

  “Then I will see you in two weeks Darex.”

  ///

  Hidden rift stations, with supply pods and communications transmitters, were gradually spreading across the nearer parts of the galaxy. They were very cheap to put up, and with the resources of Ground bolstered by what were now six Production worlds to throw at the problem, it was an eminently surmountable cost.

  Small, nearly invisible scout ships were fanning even farther across the galaxy. Finally, one prepared to rift to a place more than halfway across, to the Capital of Sector 141, a world known as Jelani.

  Star Lieutenant Hanadi was a veteran of Ais and Malachite. He’d volunteered for scout duty for the interest it offered. He spoke to his new navigator, who doubled as communications officer, in what was for both of them thickly accented Tadine.

  “Vrax, did you ever imagine you would be doing something like this?”

  The younger man laughed, “No sir! In an invisible scout ship, in space, preparing to jump two hundred light years, in order to spy on the galactic empire we’re at war with…”

  “Put that way, it does sound even more astonishing. Even more so, considering we’ll be back on Ground tonight. Yet here we are. All right. Ready?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Opening rift.”

  They flew through. On the other side, they did not see what they’d expected.

  “By the gods, look at that!” said Hanadi.

  As far as the eye could see and the scanner could read were Elder ships. Thousands of Warden Ships and thousands more transports were gathered in the system. Flotillas of shuttles large and small were ferrying supplies from both a particularly vast starbase and yet another fleet of transport ships.

  “Are you getting all that, Vrax?”

  “Yes sir,” gulped the other.

  “Start collecting communications transmissions and rift them back.”

  “Anything in particular sir?”

  “No, whatever is within range, we’ll let them sort it out back home. In the meantime, I am afraid we should stay as long as we can. We do not appear to have been noticed, but each successive rift out or in will make it more likely someone will be.”

  ///

  The newly built rift portals were ready for a public demonstration. Two rings were placed a quarter kilostep apart at opposite ends of a large tarmac at Neem-Jat labs. A large crowd watched in person, and a great many more by video, as Jat casually stepped through one ring, appeared in the air about a foot in front of the other, then turned around and entered the second ring, only to appear about a foot in front of the first, exactly where he’d started.

  A reporter in the crowd yelled to Jat “Professor Jat! Are you sure it was wise to test out the equipment yourself, so casually, what if…”

  “I wasn’t testing it just now. I’ve been walking through it all morning.”

  “What about the cost?”

  “With rings THIS close together, the cost isn’t much, even on the planet’s surface.”

  There were only some who had sufficient grasp of the underlying math to know just how relative a term “isn’t much” might be when discussing the antimatter power needed to do what Jat had just done. Karden, who was among those watching, could already think of the possibilities. When the crowd had disbursed, he caught up with Jat.

  “Darex, you realize we could set up gates just like this between here and Solidarity?”

  Jat smiled. “This time, I was actually ahead of you! Yep. No more pesky trips up to medium orbit just to go back down again on the other side of a jump.”

  About this time Neem appeared, and began listening to the conversation.

  Karden continued, “And is it actually necessary to appear a foot in front of the ring?”

  “No. Just did that so they were clear on how it worked. In reality, it could be a micron and it would be fine. Strictly speaking, the rifts themselves don’t exist. They’re just a gap in space-time. Thus, have no depth. Why?”

  “Well, what if one were to build, say, a road on either side? One could walk seamlessly back and forth, or rather it would have the appearance that one did so. You could even drive supply trucks across…”

  That was too much for Neem, who could no longer contain his excitement, “OR! If you wanted to carry some serious cargo, you could put in maglev rails instead, like the very cool magnetic trains they use on Solidarity!”

  Now Karden laughed, “Neem, Jat, even for us, I’m amazed. We’re considering a rail line between planets!”

  Neem looked at him with a grin, “Too bad we might put your friend Ilyar out of business before he even gets his interstellar shipping company started.”

  “He hasn’t built anything yet, and I’m not sure all cargo would be cheaper by train or truck than by ship, even a spaceship. I suspect he’ll quickly figure out where the most profitable path lies. In any case, I think we’re far from seeing all the applications of this yet.”

  The two of them smiled at him, but their minds were already at work.

  46

  Not long after the idyllic day testing the rift portals, Hanadi’s messages began to reach Ground. Karden, Varen, and Abida watched the report at GDC headquarters, along with a large group of command staff.

  Karden sank into his chair, feeling as if age was catching up with him at last. “Something in the neighborhood of three thousand Warden Ships and two thousand transports. This is beyond even what we feared! Ideas?”

  Varen spoke flatly, “Estimates have been that a journey from Earth to here would take at least ten of our months. However, from what we know of Warden Ships, they would need to stop an estimated four times along the way for resupply, extending the journey by at least some weeks more.

  Abida looked fierce, “Now is the time for the guerilla war we discussed. They are already at their second stop. If Hanadi can get some idea of how close they are to leaving for the next, we can decide whether to attack them where they are now or at the next base.”

  Karden considered, “I’m afraid our own limitations will keep us from hitting them that far out across the Galaxy. Even with the help of our new allies, I don’t think we can get enough antimatter to send a large fleet there. We’ll have to fight our battle at the third stop.”

  An analyst at the far end of the table spoke up, and addressed Karden.

  “Sir, we’ve sifted through the intercepted communications forwarded by Lieutenant Hanadi. It looks like the Elder fleet plans to depart in six of their standard days for the Capital of Sector 123. They are estimated to arrive there in departure plus fifty six standard days.”

  Karden listened to the information gloomily, then marshaled his nerves and stood up. He addressed the others. “That gives us sixty two of their days, about sixty eight of ours. Sixty eight days to prepare an attack on the Command Star base in Sector 123, then to launch a raid on the fleet itself. I don’t need to tell you it will require everything we have to make as much as a dent in them.”

  “I also do not need to tell you that even with our rift tactics, we can’t defeat a fleet like that in pitched battle. We have to wear them down, destroy their sources of supply, force them to change and re-change destinations. Once they are in their wormholes, they cannot change them again, and we have the initiative.”

  “There is no time like now. Let’s get to work.”

  ///

  Word o
f the approach of the Protectorate Grand Fleet had many effects, few of them good for the little league of what was now two dozen worlds. On Ground, the panic felt at the original news from Malachite reasserted itself. Even Selnin Rorder managed to get back on the air, solemnly predicting doom, with the Elders as arbiters of fate in retribution for the political sins of mankind.

  On Solidarity, the population rallied behind the rebel leadership, but other worlds began to waver. The propaganda campaign that had swept across the galaxy ground to a halt. Its seeds of discontent had been planted, but now they lay dormant while fear of the massive fleet chilled all hearts.

  In desperation to keep his fragile league together, Karden began making regular speeches, delivered by the rift communications network directly to the allied worlds.

  Hardly noticed amidst the fear, the first ground rift portals were laid between Ground and Solidarity. Fast maglev cargo trains began to zoom between two worlds. Other gates connected roads and even foot walkways. Even Karden couldn’t foresee the scale of the changes the portals would put into motion. Discussion began of adding more worlds to the network.

  On all the worlds of the league, feverish construction began of ships based on the Liberty, adapted to local conditions and non-Grounder crews. All the while, Grounder ships worked to roll back the Elder communication network, isolating more and more worlds from the enemy, and putting them in contact with the league.

  ///

  On the former Protectorate supply world known as The Surface, the Elders had not come for many months. Bereft of fresh supplies of antimatter, and of Elder maintenance, some of the generators were beginning to cease functioning. It would be many long years until they all did, but concern grew, for they had long since forgotten how to build their own sources of power.

  The Terrible Ones had returned, without warning, and kidnapped the Elder Ambassador and her staff. Then they departed again. Meanwhile, communications continued to come in from what was now claimed to be a growing league of worlds with their own sources of antimatter and their own knowledge of how to maintain Elder equipment. The people cowered in terror.

  Then one day video messages arrived from an Elder, his name was Administrator McCoy and he told the people of The Surface of strange news. The league of worlds was now in firm control of this area of space, but they were not, as rumor had it, slaughtering the Elders under their rule. In fact, they had graciously appointed an Elder, him, to guide The Surface to a new era of peace.

  He told them new transports, able to rift instantly through space like the ships of the Terrible Ones, would be on their way. These ships would bring generators. A crew of Elders and their friends, tall red people, would show the people of The Surface how to repair them. There was much discussion of these tidings, but in the end, a new Planetary Speaker was chosen, who supported agreeing to these new ways.

  And the people of The Surface rejoiced, and did as the Elder had instructed them.

  ///

  Over the Elder production world of Community 115, in Sector 123, a fleet of thirty transports was gathered. They were hurriedly loading equipment and supplies from the surface and from the depot starbase in preparation for transport to the Sector Capital. It was a sign of the unsettled times that they had a Warden Ship as an escort.

  The area round the fleet was scattered with what had come to be officially termed Caltrop Missiles, named after an ancient archaic weapon of Earth. There were not all that many of them, as Sector 123 was far from known enemy activity, and they took time to deploy.

  Suddenly, twenty rifts opened in space, and through them poured an equal number of small warships. The ships fired rapid bursts of particle beams from numerous small cannons, and swept a path through the caltrop missiles. The Warden Ship picked off four of them with its heavy guns.

  The survivors unloaded thirty-two nuclear missiles at once, and disappeared in flashes as quickly as they had appeared. Five transports that had been fully powered up managed to open and enter wormholes in time. The rest, as well as the Warden Ship and the starbase, ceased to exist as the missiles struck home.

  ///

  Sustainability 38 was in chaos. Propaganda from a previously unknown league of free worlds had swept across the systems of Sector 106, affecting some more than others. Sustainability was among the more. The propaganda messages had been addressed by members of various advanced races, including, to considerable surprise and discussion, an Elder.

  Another spokesperson named Ambassador Vrakaai had called upon the Ara’kaa to forget their ancient guilt and live in the present, to demand at last equality with the Elders. Even for those of rebellious mindset, the lofty and respected title of Ambassador carried a measure of awe, to which was added the deep impression made seeing it borne by an Ara’kaa.

  Rioters battled with local security forces while small, deadly, squads of Elder troops swept in here and there. They were few, and the authorities were slowly crumbling. Rumors were that a transport was on the way with more troops from the Sector Capital. Other transports sat empty, waiting to be loaded with supplies, in orbit overhead.

  Then, when the transport did arrive, it brought not only soldiers, but a message. Broadcast in full video to a recalcitrant populace were images of the Elder Grand Fleet, five thousand ships, in motion on their way to crush the rebels and their league in Sector 104. As fear set in, resistance among the population of Sustainability 38 began to fade, then went underground, but it did not disappear.

  ///

  Above the quiet Production world Loyalty 26, five Elder transport ships loaded supplies from a smallish depot starbase. Shuttles flitted back and forth. They had a great deal of work to in preparation for the arrival of the Grand Fleet.

  Word had reached the starbase of enemy raids using their frightening instantaneous FTL, but resources were limited on this backwater world, and the best the Planetary Administrator could do was mobilize his small fighter detachment and keep his base weapons on full alert.

  Ten rifts appeared in space. Through them came small warships bristling with weapons. They fired fifteen missiles at the starbase and another five at the transports. As they did so, a voice with a harsh Ara’kaa accent came through on standard Elder channels.

  “This is Squadron Commander Atsra’aak of the free world of Solidarity 17! People of Loyalty 26, we rid you of your masters! Rise up!”

  A split second after he finished, the missiles struck home, destroying the starbase and all the transports. A few railgun shots had come from the depot starbase, but they failed to get through the powerful shields of the Liberty class starships.

  ///

  Pavol Harker was in a conference by rift communicator with economic leaders, including officials and businesspeople, from twenty planets in what was now being officially referred to as the League of Free Worlds. He had never really mastered Elder, and was using interpreters.

  “Here on Ground we’re continuing to implement even some of the basic technology the rest of you take for granted, but thanks to our internal liberalization and deregulation, along with the huge increase in trade and the technical support we’re getting from everyone, we’re still projecting a sixty percent increase in output this year.”

  “And,” he added, “speaking of trade, we’ve had a couple of Free Traders defect from the Protectorate and join us. I’d also like to thank Ilyar and Liberation Trading Company for all their hard work.”

  “My pleasure,” said Imni Ilyar Mneoniri. It was an understatement. With the multi-world war effort, business was proving immensely profitable. He had a fleet of small cargo ships and both trucks and trains using the new planetary rift portals. He’d also used his extensive prewar connections in Sector 104 to establish branch offices on Solidarity 17 and three other worlds.

  K’tk spoke next, her Elder surprisingly clear to the Grounders in attendance – her exceptionally sophisticated vocal equipment could duplicate many sounds.

  “On Solidarity 17, we are projecting nothing so specta
cular, at least yet. Habits of entrepreneurship are not so developed on our world, but we still expect five percent growth for the year, a figure unprecedented for at least a thousand standard years.”

  Harker heard the translation, and laughed, “Except that with your much larger base, a five percent increase is bigger than our sixty percent. I can’t tell you how happy I am to have you with us!”

  The other leaders went through their estimates, and then they discussed details of war production.

  “Well everyone, as you know, Karden and the other military leaders want a fleet of four thousand Liberty ships and as many Starfighters as we can get them. By the time the Elders are ready for their last jump to Ground, I think we can do it.”

  ///

  Fleet Admiral Katiyar stood on the command deck overlooking the bridge of his flagship, the Reeducator. It was a modified Warden Ship with the launch bays removed, greatly increased power and shield generation capabilities, and two powerful energy cannons installed, like those on a starbase. He’d personally seen to the modifications, thinking that given the clear dangerousness of the enemy, the fleet could use heavy fire support.

  A powerfully built man of medium height and stern disposition, he was less traditionally minded than most Protectorate admirals. He mused that under the circumstances, that might be a very good thing. Over and over again, he considered the implications of the Grounder’s instantaneous FTL, and reports of the hit and run tactics they’d used with such success.

  Standing with him was Flag Captain Sikrai, commander of the Reeducator, and the first Ara’kaa captain in the history of the Protectorate to be considered for promotion to flag rank. Katiyar had recognized his talent, and personally appointed him for this mission as Flag Captain, a training position for Squadron Admiral.

  “Flag Captain, we should consider that the great advantage in mobility possessed by the Grounders and their league of worlds means they are likely to continue advancing against our sector forces.”