Alexander Galaxus: The Complete Alexander Galaxus Trilogy

by Christopher L. Anderson

  Crandal paced in the twilit room, puffing at his pipe. If possible, he seemed to have aged a decade since the failed second assassination attempt and his release by Alexander. His compatriots gained some small level of satisfaction at his concern. Crandal was fully aware of their humor. He’d not survived the political intrigues over for over forty years without being aware of the intents and emotions around him. He glanced at the large screen at the end of the room showing the Terran broadcast, and then back at his companions.

  “Your amusement is premature, gentleman,” he told them. “Our setbacks have played into our hands. Alexander is shortly to win this war for us, thereby handing us a vast galactic empire with no true enemies.”

  “Your view of the situation is replete with its legendary optimism,” his large counterpart said from behind a cigar. “We stand on the precipice of losing not only a war, but a civilization. The Golkos fleet is hours away, and we all know the tally of the numbers. It is too late for recriminations. What are our options should the Golkos take Terra? Of what good are our Galactic contacts? Certainly it must be said that even if they take Terra we have two fleets converging on the system. If the Golkos take Terra I don’t think they’ll hold it long enough to do anything but raze it. Do we have any pull with Admiral Sampson or Admiral Cathcart? Can we broker a deal between the Golkos and our Admirals for a peaceful handover?”

  “Unfortunately Alexander, behind the scenes of course, has taken a very active role in purging his fleet of politically oriented officers,” Crandal informed them. “Only last week Alexander sacked a general he’d known in his former existence. I’m told he spotted the man in a briefing and proceeded to rip the rank from his shoulders quite emphatically. To date ninety-seven general officers have been relieved of command, many of whom had files in our organization. Their replacements are often disgruntled, aggressive, “warrior-types.” As such I am afraid our influence with the military is nil. Therefore, our best course of action is patience. The worst case scenario is obviously the Golkos capturing and razing Terra. Although even in that eventuality we are left in a position of advantage.”

  “It is true that we control every facet of significant technology on the planet, even now,” the large man agreed, though somewhat dourly. “We will control what industry remains, and we already control what industry we’ve exported to the colonies. To that extent we shall be in an advantageous position to rebuild our civilization.”

  “We shall also have available to us the largest fleet of warships in the galaxy, bar none,” Crandal reminded them. “Without the support of their former allies the Golkos will be outnumbered by the returning Terran fleets which will be eager for revenge.”

  “It is possible that under such circumstances we could orchestrate the use of the fleets to destroy Golkos, or better yet cajole the Chem to do it for us,” Edgar mused. “The Chem and the Golkos are age old adversaries; at least they were in the old Galactic age. What better way to destroy or weaken our only potential adversaries than to set them at one another? Certainly the Chem would consider the death of their Elder’s spouse at the hands of the Golkos cause enough for war? Could we put the scenario to our Galactic friends?”

  “An intriguing possibility, especially after the abandonment of Golkos by her former allies,” Crandal replied. “There can be few states which do not fear a Golkos victory more than a Terran victory at the moment. Should the Golkos raze Terra and somehow escape they would no doubt return to the Galactic community with ideas of revenge and retribution. I think it would be quite easy then to have the Galactics talk their Chem friends into waging their war for them. The Chem are frankly chomping at the bit to go back to their old ways. I’ve watched Nazar of Chem, who is as reasonable as those people get, and he has blood lust in his eyes. I think that the Chem would readily bear such a burden.”

  “That would leave us alone with the resources to rebuild our empire as we saw fit,” the heavy man asserted. “That’s not a bad assumption for a worst case scenario.”

  “Hopefully Alexander will hand us the empire we desire intact,” Crandal said, “but even if he does not it will come full circle, one way or another, into our hands.”

  #

  Only one year ago the galaxy knew a similar silence. As the Chem and Terran fleets converged for a titanic battle which was never to occur the galaxy watched and waited. Now there was the same nervous boredom, the same frustrating inaction and the same unrestrained imagination. The feeling was the same within every being who waited for the final attack on Terra, but it was worse in the fleets. Ten hours passed since the Golkos squadron was destroyed—nothing. Twenty hours passed and Alexander, after a brief but inconclusive respite, refused to leave the bridge of the Iowa. Twenty-four hours passed and even Alexander began to wonder whether Khandar might indeed have fled the system; retreating to Golkos with the realization that his goal was unattainable. After twenty-five hours Alexander almost believed that was what had happened. Only twelve hours remained before the Second Fleet would arrive in strength, making Alexander’s position unassailable. It was at this point that Alexander stood upon the bridge of the Iowa and announced to his fleet and his defense forces to man their battle stations. Time, he knew, worked in strange ways. It betrayed Bureel to his death and the loss of an empire. It betrayed the Alliance in its dallying throw to destroy the upstart Alexander. It even betrayed Nazeera into thinking that the Terran fleet before her was as ancient and experienced as her own. Time, in Alexander’s opinion, had no less love for himself than anyone else; therefore it would betray him at this moment when he needed it, if he allowed that to happen.

  Alexander’s prescience was cemented within that hour. The sensors on Luna were the first to pick up the Golkos superluminal signatures. Within fifteen minutes the entire Golkos fleet, over eight hundred ships, dropped out of superluminal beyond Neptune’s orbit, apparently Khandar did not want to duplicate the difficulties of his scout squadron. They advanced as a single formation, no longer feigning envelopment. Their purpose was clear: to smash through any Terran opposition with sheer weight and firepower.

  “There are eight hundred and forty-seven warships, Alexander,” Augesburcke reported. “The Golkos are arrayed in a single formation, but it is one they have not used before.” The Golkos ships appeared on the tactical hologram, and Alexander got up to have a closer look at it. Khandar placed his ships in a deep “X” formation with ten ships on each leg and twelve rows in depth. It was a three dimensional formation roughly as deep as it was wide. Alexander studied it for a moment, and then ordered the fleet ahead at full impulse. Augesburcke initiated the command and the Iowa moved imperceptibly forward. When all was to his satisfaction he reported, “We should be in firing range in slightly over eighty-three minutes, Alexander. We’ll intercept them approximately abeam the orbit of Saturn, and slightly over one million miles from the Saturnian system.”

  “That should provide a dramatic backdrop for the battle,” Alexander commented. Then he turned his attention back to the Golkos formation and asked Nazar for his opinion of it.

  “I have not seen this particular formation in my experience; however, it does remind me somewhat of the hollow cube Khandar used against you on the frontier. He has fewer ships now, but I do not doubt the intent is the same; i.e. to maximize his firing power on attacking warships while providing covering fire for his own vessels.”

  “I am inclined to agree,” Alexander nodded, pointing out the various features of the formation. “This formation, I’ll call it “Khandar’s Cross” for lack of a better term, is simple yet elegant in its functionality. It is not designed for offensive firepower such as the Chem cone or for static defense/offense as is the Galactic cube. What Khandar has devised is a moving formation which is especially defensible. His goal is simply to punch through to Terra with the least amount of damage. He’s given some thought to this. See how each leg provides covering fire for the adjacent legs? If you try to attack the core of the formation along the cente
r axis, where his flagship almost certainly is, then you must enter inside the vertex of the planes. In such an attack you end up being caught in a crossfire between the planar formations; bombarded at closer and closer range as you advance upon the axis. The weak points are the bow and the stern, and the periphery of the formation. In each case you are still subject to a crossfire, but at least it is at extended range. If we limit our assault to the bow and stern we only come under fire of the forward and aft projectors. Admiral Augesburcke, we’ll keep with our basic plan of attack with some minor modifications. Advance along the forward axis of the cross. The fleet will provide shielding for the missile carriers. Hold their fire as long as possible and then launch the nukes along the axis. That is the greatest concentration of ships and the least concentration of firepower. The nukes will be our first surprise for the day. I want to hold the dreadnoughts back for now. If the Golkos still believe we only have seven or eight battlewagons left then by all means let them believe it. We’ll show them our muscle a bit at a time. We’ll take the carrier conversions to beef up our squadron firepower, Admiral. Keep the dreadnoughts in orbit around back side of Terra. I want their appearance to be a surprise to Khandar. Meanwhile, the conventional squadrons will take a position on the bows of the cross and keep up a continuous fire. The conventional squadrons will make wheeling attacks in the bow and stern of the formation. Advise all commanders to avoid positioning themselves between the planes of the formation.”

  Augesburcke nodded, but then said, “Alexander, the one thing we don’t know yet is just how fast they are. We’ll keep track of their sub-light speeds and compare them to our own. We are going to need a significant edge in speed to accomplish a three dimensional wheel maneuver. If they’re too fast for us we may have to simply form a line and attack broadside to broadside until they reach Terra.”

  “That’s a distinct possibility,” Alexander admitted. “In that case we’ll form single lines standing off each plane. Then we should still have a concentration of force over them in that position and we can stand off far enough to negate the crossfire.”

  “Very good,” Augesburcke said simply and he issued the necessary orders.

  Alexander returned to his seat. “Well now we wait. This is always the damnedest part of an engagement. Good things come to those who wait.” The next hour dragged by. There was no communication between the adversaries, but slowly they drew together as if unable to resist some strange force of fate. Alexander spread his squadrons to reflect the tips of Khandar’s Cross, and the axis. The Seventh sailed out to meet an enemy four times their size, but they it was spearheaded by the most renowned names in naval history: Iowa, Bismarck, Iron Duke, West Virginia and Graf Spee. Between the conventional formations were the missile carriers. Completely bereft of the grace and beauty of the naval warships the spidery rigs were purely functional. They were unwieldy and dangerous, possessing only an underpowered sub-light engine and minimal shielding. Despite their drawbacks as vessels they bristled with hundreds of nuclear tipped ICBM’s; the bulk of the cold war arsenal.

  As they drew within visual range the fleets seemed almost benign. Fifteen minutes out Alexander hailed the Golkos. Grand Admiral Khandar appeared on the viewer.

  “Hail and well met, Alexander. It is to begin at last, the defining battle of this age. I salute you, and wish you a glorious defeat.”

  “You are somewhat premature, Grand Admiral. Yet in the interests of Galactic peace and amity I offer you one final chance to turn your ships about and proceed under escort to Golkos.”

  “What, and throw away the opportunity history presents? I think not, Alexander. There is but one chance to stop your career. I will shoulder that burden though my brethren ignore the responsibility; and in the end it will be I whom the Galactics remember!”

  “A determined point of view, Grand Admiral, yet I remind you one last time of the obvious: you are in Terran space. Once pushed to the throw I shall not stop until all is completed. I shall not allow a single Golkos warship to arrive home to their empire. Whether it is the task of the Seventh Fleet, the Second, or the Fifth the conclusion to this battle is set, and nothing you can do will change it.”

  “Show me such resolve when Terra withers under my guns!”

  Alexander’s eyes narrowed and his voice dropped an octave. “The Golkos have fought with honor and skill thus far. Let this end on that note. Do not make me destroy you, Khandar.”

  “I make ready for your worst, Alexander!”

  “So be it. I wash my hands of all mercy. Have at you then!” Alexander closed the connection. There were no more hails. There were no more threats. There was nothing. Alexander growled at the enormous bridge screen, watching the Golkos fleet grow larger with each passing moment. To the left of the formation the huge yellow and white ball of Saturn hung like a golden snowball; the brilliant rings splendorous beyond imagination. Alexander could not help but stare. In a low voice, meant only for himself, he said, “You know, I’ve always held that planet as my favorite, but with all the time I’ve spent in space this last year I have not seen Saturn and her rings once. I am thankful that, whatever happens, at least I have seen them.”

  Nazar’s brow raised in surprise at Alexander’s comment, especially at such a time. He could be strangely sentimental, he knew, but this was hardly the moment for it. Still, the comment seemed to drain the anger from the Overlord. What it left was the ice cold adamant which made him so deadly. Any further inspection of Alexander’s thoughts was interrupted the sudden blooming of hundreds of white and orange flowers on the flanks of the Golkos formation. Plasma glowed upon their shields as they absorbed blaster and torpedo fire from some unseen source. The attack was continuous, but the Golkos only fired back sporadically, like a harmless laser light show.

  “It seems Admiral Konstantinov and his “wolves” are determined to draw first blood,” Alexander smiled. “The man is irrepressible. I sincerely hope he survives this day.” He turned to the Admiral, “How long until we are in firing range?”

  “We are just closing within two million kilometers of the Golkos, Alexander,” Augesburcke informed him. “Our estimated time of contact in slightly over five minutes at this rate of closure.”

  “Their speed,” Alexander asked.

  Augesburcke shook his head, “point eight-three “c,” standard full impulse. It’s only slightly below our own speed. We don’t have enough advantage over them there.”

  “No doubt as Khandar hoped,” Alexander said. “Very well, prepare to engage in linear formation. Admiral Augesburcke if you will ensure everyone is properly assigned to a wing let’s set ourselves up for a reversal and prepare to engage.”

  #

  Admiral Moltor received the status reports from his officers and approached Grand Admiral Khandar. The shudder of the Nived Sheur under the concussion of the Terran torpedoes barely registered as he handed the Grand Admiral a data screen. “The scans of the Terran Homeworld, Grand Admiral,” he said.

  Khandar took the thin metal sheet and studied it. As he did so he asked Moltor for his impressions.

  The Admiral had at least impressed Khandar as a capable officer, and as such even the dark shadow of a Terran scout flashing across the Nived Sheur’s bow caused him no consternation. “Fire all forward projectors!” He ordered before answering the Grand Admiral. The fire was not meant for the Terran ship, but for the mines the Terrans had a nasty habit of laying in their wake. Two bright flashes at very close range flooded the screen and rocked the ship. Their effect was minimal, having been destroyed at a safe distance. The Golkos were learning, and their responses forced the Terran scouts to lay their mines increasingly closer to their targets. So close did the Terrans dare to pass that on more than one occasion the Nived Sheur witnessed violent collisions between combatants. Each time the small Terran ships took the worst of it, but it did not stop their attacks.

  “The Terrans are quite belligerent, whether they are in their system or out of it aren’t they?” Khandar
ventured stoically. With a wave of his hand he expressed his wish for Moltor to continue his report, never taking his eyes off the data screen.

  “Grand Admiral we have detected five planetary projectors on the surface, and twenty smaller sites. We have yet to scan the far side of the planet, so our data is limited to sixty-five percent of the surface thus far. We project, however, that the entire defense may be comprised of between eight and ten planetary projectors.” He straightened and turned to the Grand Admiral, admitting, “It is a significant number.”

  “Indeed it is,” Khandar said simply.

  “Initial estimates for neutralizing the planetary shields are fifty-percent Grand Admiral, discounting the activities of the Terran fleet, of course.” When the Grand Admiral stared at him, Moltor apologized. “The simulation computer gives us only a fifty percent chance of breaching Terran defenses. However, if we are successful it will take at least a decurn. This is coincidental with the estimated arrival of the Terran Second Fleet,” Moltor reported.

  “It will be unnecessary to neutralize all the planetary shields,” Khandar replied, moving to the tactical hologram. He punched up Moltor’s scans and Terra hovered before him. He pointed to the continents of North America and Europe and said, “Your scans reveal these areas as those of highest industrial concentration. We will target the three shield generators covering these regions. If more detailed scans show a more target rich environment then we will change our plan of attack, but for the time being the bombardment squadrons will proceed against these areas. Is that understood?”

  “Yes Grand Admiral,” Moltor answered.

  Khandar switched the hologram to center the view on his own formation of ships. The cross was still intact, taking only minimal damage from the Terran scouts. The Terran battle squadrons could clearly be seen approaching the Golkos in a five-point-formation. Khandar studied the Terrans for only a moment before taking his seat. “Hold your course and speed,” he said over his comlink. “Prepare for planar rotation on my order!”