“Docking in ten minutes,” a senior Protector spoke, stepping into the small stateroom of the shuttle. The Protector had regular battle armor on but was only armed with a high caliber pistol and a long knife in a highly decorated scabbard. “Your wife and children are waiting.”
“Thank you, Clyston,” responded Ankler, letting out a long rasping breath. Then, looking at the senior Protector, he asked, “Clyston, you have been with me for nearly twenty years, why have you stayed? There are other positions where honor could have come far more swiftly.”
Clyston was silent for a long moment as he thought over his answer. “It is difficult to get a posting in one of our home systems,” he responded, his large dark eyes gazing at the High Leader. “While it is true, due to a lack of combat, honor in the home systems comes slowly; it is what I wanted to do.”
“You have protected by family with honor,” Ankler responded with an acknowledging nod. “For that I am grateful.”
“Serving you has been an honor, and you have allowed the empire to steadily grow,” Clyston continued. It was seldom the High Leader addressed him. “Now you have given us four more systems to move our people to as a result of your negotiations with the AIs. I hope to serve you for many more years to come. May you continue to serve our people with honor.”
Ankler nodded and watched as Clyston left, going back to the cockpit of the shuttle. He knew that Clyston’s opinion of him might change shortly. Looking back out the viewport, he saw the small flight bay on the end of the habitat open. The habitat was rotating slowly to create gravity on its interior surface. Nearly 60,000 Hocklyns lived and worked inside. Granted, due to the fact that he was High Leader, most of the menial work was carried out by slaves with careful Hocklyn oversight. His family was also very wealthy from their acquirement of honor over the long years. Normally a habitat of this size would hold closer to 300,000 Hocklyns.
They were in the Anlesh star system, whose fourth planet out was inhabited by nearly twenty billion Hocklyns. Space around the planet was full of shipyards and other habitats. Two massive construction docks labored twenty-four hours a day building new ones. Each month, two new habitats would exit the massive construction bays to be towed into their permanent orbits.
Space freighters were constantly coming and going, bringing supplies and raw materials from hundreds of slave worlds. This was the same in all ten of the Hocklyn home systems, but even at this construction rate, the population growth was outstripping their ability to build new habitats. Despite newer and stricter population controls, the population was still growing too fast.
Each year the demands on the numerous slave worlds grew. More food, raw materials, finished products, and the list continued to lengthen. Some of them were beginning to slip back into intense poverty as their populations were overworked to meet their quotas. Extra Protectors and even military ships had been assigned to ensure these planets continued producing what the Hocklyn worlds so desperately needed.
The lives of menial slaves were meaningless since others could always be brought in to work their worlds and operate the factories. The Hocklyn Empire consisted of sixteen thousand slave worlds with over three trillion slaves from which to pull supplies.
Once the shuttle was docked, Ankler stepped out to be greeted by his wife and his two oldest sons.
“High Leader,” his wife spoke, bowing deeply. “We are honored by your presence.” His wife was of smaller stature and her body more supple and curved.
His sons also bowed in respect for the position their father held.
“It is good to be home,” responded Ankler, allowing himself to relax. “Honor has served us well.”
“We have prepared a feast to celebrate your homecoming,” Jaseth, his youngest son spoke.
He was in his early twenties and was wearing gray body armor as was customary. Jaseth was studying to be a War Leader and had already been assigned a commission as Second Leader on a dreadnought.
His brother Hangeth nodded his head in agreement. “It will be a good feast, father. We are celebrating your skill in bringing us four more worlds to settle our people on.”
“It is good,” responded Ankler, returning the bow. “Now, let us go eat and not speak of work. This is time for family.”
He didn’t want to mention his growing fear. No word as of yet from War Leader Bisth. Fleet Commodore Resmunt had sent another request only yesterday asking for more ships. The High Council was becoming uneasy, and the next vote would require that he notify the AIs about the humans. Once that occurred there would be a full scale investigation by selected members of the High Council, probably led by High Councilor Ruthan, as to where these new humans had come from.
Once that investigation was completed, there was no doubt in Ankler’s mind that he would be removed as High Leader and his family would suffer accordingly for the loss of honor. Even their habitat might be taken away.
Walking down several long corridors, they reached the interior of the artificial structure. They stepped out on a large veranda that overlooked their home. The air was fresh and sweet as it once had been on the home world, free of pollution and industrial contaminates. Trees and flowing streams were everywhere. The habitat was a literal paradise. Looking upward, he could see a few white clouds drifting in the center of the long cylinder. Above them, he could barely make out other buildings and structures. Inside a habitat, there was no true up or down, just living space.
He knew that other habitats were suffering from overcrowding. As the population in the habitats grew there often was nowhere for the excess population to go to. Homes built for a family of four soon found eight or more living inside. The population pressure had been building for years, and Ankler knew that soon something drastic would have to be done. Even the four new star systems would not be enough. He sighed deeply, knowing that some very unpopular decisions would soon have to be made and enforced.
“Let us go eat,” he spoke finally as he took one last long look around. He knew that shortly, all of this might come to an end. All because of the humans and his ancestor that had dealt with them so long ago.
-
Fleet Commodore Resmunt was still in his flagship, the dreadnought Liberator, weighing his lessening options. War Leader Bisth and his fleets were gone! There was no longer any doubt in his mind about that. His requests to the High Council for additional fleets to guard this sector were being ignored. Yesterday, he had sent out all of the armed scout ships he had at his disposal to scan the star systems between Hocklyn space and presumed human space. They had instructions not to venture further than 100 light years out. Resmunt knew the odds of detecting an inbound human fleet were negligible, but he felt he had to do so.
“You still think the humans are coming?” questioned First Leader Ganth, stepping over close to the command pedestal.
“Yes, First Leader, I do,” Resmunt responded in a cold and concerned voice. He turned and his eyes focused on Ganth. “We attacked their worlds, or at least Bisth did. I have spent some time studying the history of our original conflict with them. These humans are a race of warriors, or at least their military is. They will not allow our attack to go unpunished. They will come if only to test our resolve and our honor.”
First Leader Ganth nodded slowly. If they came, then the fleets they had gathered above this planet would smite them down. Honor would come swiftly to the Liberator and her crew. “If they come here, we will destroy them!”
“Let honor be served,” spoke Resmunt, hoping his second in command was correct; he wasn’t quite so certain. He feared their doctrine of honor that was so rigidly enforced could someday be their undoing. It required sacrifices at times when sacrifices were not necessary.
“War Leader Osbith of the dreadnought BattleHand is requesting a meeting with you later today.”
Resmunt shook his head in aggravation. It was the same every day. War Leader Osbith had arrived with one of the two reinforcing fleets. He was now officially second in command of Resmu
nt’s forces in the system due to his seniority. Unfortunately, Osbith had very little battle experience because he had come from a rear area of the Hocklyn Empire. Commodore Resmunt was not certain how useful he would be in an actual battle. He had additional War Leaders stationed at the other five forward fleet bases that would have been better suited. He was tempted to call one or two of them forward and place one of them in charge of Osbith’s fleets.
“Agreed,” responded Resmunt, letting out a long hissing breath. His dark, wide eyes focused on Ganth. “It will be a short meeting as I plan to return to the planet later. I want to make a final inspection of the defenses around the spaceport.”
His eyes turned to the large sensor screen, which showed the fleet he had gathered above his world. There were eighty-four ships in the formation, all within the protective gravity well of the planet. He glanced at a data screen, which showed the makeup of his fleet. He had ten dreadnoughts, eighteen war cruisers, and fifty-six escort cruisers.
In normal times, he would feel confident with this force, but Bisth had taken ninety-six ships with him and failed to return. However, he also had the heavily armed shipyard that was floating in orbit, the defensive railgun satellites and missile platforms, as well as the heavy weapons down on the surface around the spaceport. Surely, if the humans came he could stop them.
Fleet Commodore Resmunt allowed his thoughts to wander briefly. If he could defeat the humans, then much honor would come his way, perhaps enough to even return to the home systems and move into the hierarchy of government. He had heard that the High Councilors lived a life of ease and luxury.
-
Hedon gazed with growing concern at the latest data from two of his stealth scouts that had just returned. First Fleet was floating in empty space in a small binary star system just twelve light years from their primary target, the main Hocklyn fleet base for this entire sector.
“They have to be expecting us,” Colonel Trist informed the admiral after studying one of the large tactical displays. He arched his eyebrows in dismay; it showed the planet the large enemy fleet base was built upon. “They have gathered eighty-four warships above the planet. Not only that, but they have a very powerful satellite defensive grid to cover their base as well as that shipyard. How could they know we were coming?”
“Second, Third, Fourth, and Fifth fleets are all reporting in position and ready to strike,” Captain Duncan reported from her communications console. FTL transmission booster buoys had been spread out behind the fleets to allow them quick communication with each other.
“What are they reporting about the Hocklyn bases they are targeting?” asked Hedon, looking over at his communications officer.
“Hocklyn fleets at the two bases are smaller than expected,” she replied as she listened to the additional information coming over her com system. “I am transferring the latest data over to the tactical displays.”
Instantly, the data currently being displayed on several of the screens was replaced with the new information of the other two preliminary target systems.
“That’s where the ships came from, or at least some of them,” Colonel Trist spoke as he gazed at the fleet makeup. “There is a dreadnought missing from each fleet, and I suspect some of the other ships were pulled from their rearward bases.”
“This is a shrewd Fleet Commodore,” Hedon admitted as he weighed his tactical options. He stood up and walked over to stand directly in front of the tactical display, examining it closely. “The failure of their four attack fleets to return or send back word of the battle must have tipped him off that something was wrong.”
Unfortunately, stealth scout missions had been halted once Operation First Strike was launched. They had been concerned about tipping their hand if the Hocklyns detected or managed to destroy one. Now it looked as if that might have been a mistake. It seemed as if in the last ten days some major fleet movements had occurred in their primary target system.
Looking at the other tactical displays Hedon noticed that each of the two targeted forward fleet bases had one dreadnought, six war cruisers, and sixteen escort cruisers at their disposal. Second and Third Fleet were targeting one, and Fourth and Fifth fleet were targeting the other. His fleets had a superior advantage in both firepower and numbers. The plan could still work; he just needed to make some slight modifications. He let out a long deep breath. This was war, a constantly flowing and changing situation.
“We launch the attack in four hours,” ordered Hedon after a moment. They hadn’t come this far to pull back due to a wary Hocklyn Fleet Commodore. “Inform the other fleets they have a go. Colonel Trist, I want to move First Fleet to this system here.” Hedon indicated a system just 3.6 light years from their primary target. “When our other fleets launch their attacks, I want the Hocklyns to become aware of our presence so they won’t send reinforcements to their fleet bases.”
“Yes, Admiral,” replied Trist, relieved that the attack was going to commence. “What about their main fleet base. Do we attack?”
“No, at least not yet.” Then, with a cunning smile, Hedon added. “We will send in half a dozen light cruisers just to ensure that they know we’re here.”
-
Fourth Fleet was carefully maneuvering into their attack positions. Jeremy knew from the latest data from their stealth scouts that all of the Hocklyn warships were inside the gravity well of the planet at which they were based. Fourth Fleet would jump in first in a bid to keep the Hocklyns pinned against the planet, and then the larger Fifth Fleet would come in and enter the gravity well to destroy them. Jeremy’s fleet would stay just outside the gravity well in case it was required to meet any Hocklyn reinforcements.
“I guess this is it,” Kelsey spoke nervously over her mini-com to the others. “This is what our parents worked for all of those long years ago.”
“I just wished they were here to see it,” Katie added in a very subdued voice.
She could remember her father, Greg Johnson, speaking to Jason Strong about how in some ways he would like to be around when the Hocklyns and humans tangled once again in the future. But their destiny had already been set in creating the new Human Federation of Worlds.
“I suspect they are,” added Angela, wistfully. Angela was very religious, and there was no doubt in her mind that they were indeed being watched.
“This first battle shouldn’t be too bad,” pointed out Kevin from his console where he was keeping a vigilant eye on his sensor screen. At the moment, it just showed ninety friendly green icons and a few Talon fighters flying CAP.
“This is only the first of many,” Ariel pointed out to the group. She was feeling excited about the coming battle and was standing just behind Jeremy, her voice coming only over the mini-com.
“Yes, the first of many,” Jeremy reminded all of them in a serious tone.
“I think I would prefer to be back on that beach resort on New Tellus,” Angela commented as she thought about what was ahead of them.
“Just do your jobs and we will come through this okay. If we do, I promise that when we get home we will go back to that resort.”
“You just want some more of those wild fruit drinks,” teased Kelsey, feeling her mood lighten.
“That works for me,” answered Katie, enthusiastically. The resort had been a blast, especially when she had returned and talked Kevin into going parasailing with her over the ocean. It had been the most fun she had ever had! She would love to return there.
It was at that moment that a warning alarm suddenly sounded on Kevin’s sensor console. A dark red threat icon had suddenly appeared less than twenty million kilometers from the fleet.
“Crap!” Kevin uttered as his hands flew over the touch screen and he looked back at Jeremy. “We have a Hocklyn armed scout within easy scanning range of us!”
-
Aboard the 300-meter Hocklyn ship, First Leader Calyss looked on in shock at what his sensor operator was putting up on the screen. He had thought Fleet Commodore Resmu
nt was insane when he had demanded that the armed scouts be used to search for an invading human fleet. Now, here it was upon his screens!
“Numbers and types,” he demanded as he ordered the ship ready to jump back to the base.
His communications were already being jammed, and he knew he would be under attack in moments. Jumping back this quickly without letting his drive core cool down would probably seriously damage his ship, but there was no other choice. Honor demanded that he return to the base and spread the warning of this threat. For the first time in their long and glorious history, the Hocklyn Empire was about to be invaded.
Before his sensor operator could reply, two human light cruisers micro-jumped to within ten thousand kilometers of his ship and began accelerating. The ships appeared on the main viewscreen. Already, he could see flashes of light indicating missiles were being launched.
“Jump us, now!” he oathed as he realized his ship was about to be destroyed if he didn’t do something.
Moments later, the armed scout vanished, and the missiles passed harmlessly through the location it had just occupied.
-
“They jumped!” reported Kevin, worriedly. “Now what?”
“Get me Admiral Gaines,” ordered Jeremy, swearing under his breath. “Angela, send a message to Admiral Streth and inform him that we have been detected.”
After a quick consultation with senior Admiral Gaines, it was decided they would launch their attack immediately. After being detected by the armed scout, there was no sense in delaying it.
Jeremy looked around the busy Command Center as the excitement of approaching battle swept over the crew. “Colonel Malen, take us to Condition One and prepare for battle.”
“Yes, Sir,” Malen replied as she pressed several buttons on her console at the plotting table. Instantly, red warning lights began flashing and alarm klaxons began sounding throughout the ship. “All crew go to Condition One, this is not a drill,” she spoke over the ship’s com system. “Condition One is now set.”
The Slaver Wars: First Strike (The Slaver Wars Book Four) Page 25
