Eradication (The Void Wraith Trilogy Book 3)

by Chris Fox

  "A good plan, but we won't know if we've succeeded until we're in combat," Fizgig cautioned, folding her arms across her chest. "Only then will we see if the Void Wraith can still be controlled." She looked to Nolan. "Your distrust is wise, but so too is Khar's assessment. We need the extra strength. If we removed every Judicator and every harvester, the Tigris would lose a full two-thirds of our forces."

  "We'll take the risk then," Nolan answered, giving a grudging nod. "Are we agreed that we have to stop the Eye at Earth? This is pretty much all or nothing, Fizgig. If we lose this, there won't be a force large enough to oppose the Void Wraith. They'll finish the Eradication."

  "I speak for Pride Fizgig," Fizgig said, nodding, "and we are ready to fight. I will speak to Carnifex, but I believe the Jaguara will also join. Khar, do we have the support of Pride Leonis?"

  "Always, Mighty Fizgig." Khar said. He dipped his head to Nolan. "You are wise to express concerns, Nolan. I apologize if I seem defensive."

  "Our scientists will find a way to shield you," Nolan said, rising and giving the Alpha a respectful nod. "And you're not wrong--we need all the help we can get."

  "It will take a little time to gather our might," Fizgig said. She cocked her head, considering. "I believe we can reach Earth in seven hours, ready to reinforce the line."

  "We will need slightly longer to prepare the Forge for battle," Manda said. "We will make for Earth the moment we are ready."

  "Sounds like we have the most workable plan we're going to get. We meet at Sol, and try to kill the Eye." Nolan gave a tight nod. He looked to Fizgig. "Kathryn and I will take a harvester after Mendez. Fizgig, that will leave Dryker and Celendra to you."

  Chapter 52- The Trap is Set

  Dryker clasped his hands behind his back, staring impassively at the holodisplay. Sixteen vessels had just emerged, another of the near constant waves flowing into the Sol system since he'd suggested the president order everyone back to Earth. This wave was mostly cargo ships, with a single ore processor tucked in the middle. From a Ceras station, most likely.

  "Juliard, do you have our current readiness reports?" Dryker asked, without turning to face the lieutenant.

  "Yes, sir," she replied, quietly. "There are seventy-four capital ships, twenty-seven frigates, and nine corvettes. They've been evenly divided into quadrants, all currently orbiting one of the defense platforms."

  "Thank you, Lieutenant," he said, continuing their little game. Neither mentioned the looming truth, that they'd been compromised by the enemy. Both were aware of the larva growing inside them, controlling their actions whenever the need arose.

  Dryker pressed a button on his comm, and the holo shifted to show Earth. He zoomed in on the closest defense platform, the most impressive armament humanity had produced. The station was a cube, each plane set with dozens of railguns. Between the railguns were round black holes--missile tubes. Each station could fill the night sky with warheads, then use the railguns to pick off survivors.

  Unfortunately, the defense platforms had never been tested. They'd been built to stop the Tigris, and would have performed admirably in that role if the Tigris had ever reached Earth. The Void Wraith, though? Dryker imagined the platforms would be of limited effectiveness. With two weeks of downtime, he could probably outfit them with Primo weaponry, but that was time he just didn't have--and that was assuming the larva even allowed him to do that.

  Dryker had no idea when the blow would fall, but it was clear why the larva had forced him to draw humanity here. They were going to be wiped out, Earth harvested in whatever grisly manner the Eye required. Even now he could feel that Eye, through his link to the larva. It was everywhere, all-powerful.

  Curiously, the Eye didn't micromanage. Dryker had been left to his own devices, allowed to plan the best defense possible. He was doing his utmost to ensure that humanity made this victory a costly one for the Void Wraith. That freedom still terrified him, though. Why wasn't the Eye sabotaging their defense? Was it that certain of victory? If so, that faith was probably well-placed.

  "Sir," Juliard said politely.

  Dryker looked up at the hologram again, and noted a small flashing icon in the corner. He selected it, and the view shifted back to the sun. Another wave of ships had emerged. There were fewer of them, but they were still the most impressive wave. Eight Primo carriers flew out of the star in formation, making directly for Earth.

  "Hail them," Dryker ordered, moving back to his chair. He sat rigidly, waiting until the screen shifted to show the First Light's familiar bridge. Celendra sat on her floating throne, her makeup not quite hiding the waxy appearance of her skin. Now that he knew what to look for, it was obvious to Dryker that she'd been infected. "Hello, Celendra. Thank you for answering our call."

  "You are our allies; we could do nothing else," Celendra said, nodding respectfully. "How may we best aid the defense of your planet?"

  "If you could send two carriers to each of the orbital defense platforms, we'd be grateful," Dryker supplied. "We've got four fronts, and if any area fails the Void Wraith will be able to harvest civilians."

  "Are you certain it is not wiser to concentrate all our forces in one location?" Celendra asked. There was no accusation in the question, just a request for more data.

  Dryker suddenly realized that Celendra was probably like him, left to do her best to save her people most of the time, then jerked about like a puppet the moment the Eye needed something done.

  "I'm certain," Dryker said, soberly. "I still believe Fizgig will come to our aid, and if she does we'll use her forces to reinforce whatever area is in trouble. But abandoning three quadrants guarantees Earth's destruction. We need to find a way to hold."

  Even as he uttered the words, Dryker knew they weren't true. The Eye was coming, and all three of them knew it.

  Chapter 53- Starve Them Out

  Admiral Mendez took rapid, shallow breaths. He could feel the tubes pumping something awful inside of him; a viscous green liquid pooled around him. The stench had stopped bothering him, but it was difficult to look past the fact that he was becoming less human every moment.

  "We lack the time for you to focus on what you were," the larva boomed in his mind. "Focus on the war. Win it, and take your place among the Gorthians."

  Mendez looked up at the wall-sized hologram, which had been carried in by Judicators. It was mounted to a rock wall above the pool, and currently displayed an image of the surrounding galaxy. Blue tags floated around many worlds, each representing one of his fleets. He'd focused the fleet in a wide dispersal, but the time had come to tighten that net on key targets.

  "Bring up the list," Mendez said, coughing into his hand. His voice was hoarse from disuse, a byproduct of having no one to talk to.

  The holo added twenty six new icons. Twenty-five were red circles, each appearing over a world he'd deemed vital. Most were human, but half a dozen were Tigris. They contained the largest remaining populations, and wiping them out would reduce eighty percent of food production for both races. That would be critical going forward.

  After they'd finished the main Eradication, it would take decades to root out survivors. Dryker treated them like guerrillas, and you rooted out guerrillas by cutting off their supply lines. That gave them no choice but to come to you, and when they did you eliminated them.

  "This tactic is interesting," the larva's voice rumbled in his head. "Its use may shorten the interval necessary to cull survivors. Proceed with this attack."

  Mendez gritted his teeth, hating the ever-present voice, the reminder that he was a literal pawn. He forced himself back to the work, the tactical problems the only refuge he could find from his situation.

  He had just over four thousand harvesters to work with, but before he could distribute them he needed to make sure he won the battle for Earth.

  "That's the real trick, isn't it?" he muttered. He raised a trembling hand to his beard, stroking it absently as he shifted the view to show Earth.

  He h
ad real-time estimates of the planet's defenses, and it looked like the Primo had just arrived to reinforce the human lines. Sizable fleets--some of the most impressive gathered in living memory--were arrayed around each platform.

  "Order Fleets one through twenty to gather in the Tewet system to await further orders," Mendez said, confident in the decision.

  Two thousand ships would be more than enough to overwhelm all defense, even given that he didn't know the exact composition of the Tigris reinforcements. If Fizgig mustered another three hundred ships, he'd be shocked, and odds were good that any new ones would be harvesters. That, more than anything else, would doom the allied races once the Eye ordered both Judicators and harvesters to turn on the alliance forces.

  They'd be torn apart from within, even while being relentlessly attacked from without. As a military commander, this was the most airtight plan he'd ever been a part of. Of course, he'd never had a perfect network of spies, or the ability to control forty percent of the enemy force on command.

  Even if humanity somehow won the battle here, the galaxy would never recover--especially with his remaining two thousand harvesters laying waste to the breadbaskets of all races. Either way, the survivors would starve.

  Chapter 54- The Eye Arrives

  The Eye rejoiced, pushing itself from the star with enough force to counteract the sun's immense gravity. Such capabilities had been lacking when it had first come to the Milky Way, but through study of the Primo it had evolved to mimic their starships. Its skin was more dense than any ship's hull, impervious to nearly all forms of damage.

  It drifted from the sun, surveying the solar system it had arrived in. It was the first time the Eye had visited Sol, which had possessed no galactic importance the last time it had culled the galaxy. Records from that time had listed the system as a Primo outpost, but they'd never touched the third planet. Earth, while habitable, had had none of the resources they sought.

  Conversely, it now possessed the one resource the Eye needed, and it possessed that resource in an abundance the Eye had never seen before: twenty billion people clustered across the planet's surface in convenient cities. That amount of genetic mass would allow the Eye to evolve again, likely in unexpected ways.

  But first it needed to deal with the defenders. Ships floated around several platforms, primitive devices with little chance of harming the Eye. Yet the Eye had survived as long as it had through patience and diligence. It wouldn't underestimate these humans, or their Tigris allies. The Eye activated its communication organ, reaching out to the two thousand vessels that had emerged with it.

  All were ready to fight. It resisted the urge to order them into battle, leaving that task to vessel Mendez. The human had already proven invaluable as a combat leader, and the Eye had decided to preserve that mind. Like Reid, Mendez would be allowed to keep much of his identity after its progeny was born from his body. Mendez would be given command of all forces created during this Eradication, then sent to join the galactic front.

  "Begin the assault," Mendez's voice echoed through the Eye's communication organ.

  The Void Wraith began to move, and the Eye watched their advance with great interest. Mendez had divided the fleet into three parts. The first two were five hundred ships each, and the last a full thousand. Both groups of five hundred moved to engage orbital defense platforms, while the reserves advanced behind. The Eye approved of the strategy. If the humans stripped defenders from the other two platforms, then the reserve could move up to attack them. If they stayed where they were, the Void Wraith would wipe out half their forces, then move on to the other half.

  How would Dryker react? The Eye opened several hundred thoughtlines, trying to understand how the human would respond. Dryker knew Mendez, and knew that Mendez was in charge. They'd served together, and each likely knew how the other would respond. It was a very high-stakes version of the game they called chess.

  Chapter 55- Begin the Assault

  Dryker winced when a wall of harvesters decloaked, spaced far enough apart to prevent a nuclear strike from wiping them out. Their line swept toward the two defense platforms, slamming into the defending fleet. Elements of the 14th and the 11th moved to engage, reinforced by Primo carriers.

  Flashes bloomed all over, a mixture of Void Wraith cannons and human railguns. Here and there, Primo weaponry added to the plasma fire. A moment later, a second set of flashes began, these ones much larger. Ships broke apart, blossoming silently like fireworks. Both sides took casualties, but the Void Wraith had the numbers to afford the losses. Humanity did not. Already the Void Wraith were curving around the human line, threatening to encircle them. With the fleet in low orbit, their escape would be completely cut off.

  "Move defense platforms three and four to join one and two," Dryker ordered, leading forward in his commander chair. He knew that consolidating their defenses left part of Earth exposed, but he had no choice. "Have the escorting fleets move ahead to join the battle, but leave a core of fighters to defend three and four."

  Mendez's fingerprints were all over this attack, and Dryker pushed back a fresh tide of despair. Mendez had been their finest admiral during the war with the Tigris, and clearly hadn't lost his edge. His move pinned humanity. There was simply no good response. The best Dryker could hope for was maneuvering the defenders close enough to support each other.

  Unfortunately, that exposed the entire eastern hemisphere to attack. If the Void Wraith reserves moved in that direction, they could reach the surface unopposed. Dryker risked it anyway, because he knew Mendez would be too smart to send his reserves to the planet, at least so early in the battle. The Tigris hadn't arrived, and until they did, Mendez would be cautious.

  It was a stalling tactic, but right now this was the best play Dryker had.

  "Sir, platforms three and four will reach the battle in eighty seconds," Juliard supplied, then bent back to her comm station. She gave a steady stream of individual orders, having captains correct courses, and dealing with the few protests that had arisen.

  Dryker watches the fleets draw closer, silhouetted against the planetscape. The sun was coming up on the west coast of the Americas, and the battle was taking place above north and south America. Streaks of debris were already falling from destroyed ships, streaming down into the atmosphere over cities he recognized. Most would burn up on re-entry, he hoped. Though perhaps those who died from falling debris would be the lucky ones.

  His ship was passing over the Pacific Ocean, well behind the main armada. Four destroyers, more modern versions of the Johnston, flanked him. That thought pierced him, because he hadn't even thought about the old girl in weeks. How far things had spiraled since he'd been a captain in the 14th.

  "The 11th is engaging, sir," Juliard said. Dryker watched them crash into the Void Wraith, overlapping explosions blurring the combat.

  The 11th had successfully blocked the Void Wraith attempt to encircle his forces--for now anyway. Already the Void Wraith were pressing the 11th, trying to find a weakness.

  His five vessels could help strengthen the line. Would the larva let him join the battle directly? One way to find out. "Order our escort vessels to join the 11th's rear, and ask Admiral Nicao where he wants them. We'll follow as well, and pick off targets of opportunity."

  The Eye hadn't stopped him. Why? More and more, he was terrified of the possible reason.

  The entire human line was pressed hard; as Dryker watched, a Primo carrier detonated, the explosions taking half a dozen vessels with it. They were losing, and quickly. Dryker gave them fifteen minutes--perhaps twenty, if they fell back to one consolidated defense point.

  Chapter 56- The Tigris

  Fizgig had spent most of her life dreaming of entering the Sol system. She'd been one of the first to encounter the humans, the first sent to deal with them after their unprovoked assault on Pride Leonis. In her dreams, she'd been leading a fleet to wipe them out--to punish them for the temerity of thinking they could share the stars with the T
igris.

  She'd never imagined that she might be coming here to help save the humans. More, she'd never believed she could respect them enough to care about their fate. Fizgig wasn't here merely because saving humanity meant saving the Tigris. She was also here because saving humanity meant saving Nolan. It might mean saving Dryker.

  "Make for the human homeworld," she roared over the comm. "Prepare to assault the enemy flank in sector 6. We'll pin them against the humans, leaving them nowhere to run." All around her, Tigris vessels were emerging from the sun, gathering back into Prides as they reached the surface. Fully half of the vessels were Void Wraith, and nearly all had been damaged in some way.

  "Mighty Fizgig." An unfamiliar female voice came over the comm--one of the Jaguara, if her accent was any indication. "What of our defense platforms? Should we not wait?"

  "They'll take too long to reach the battle," Fizgig countered. "If we wait for them, there won't be any humans left. We have to help them now, and hope we can hold out long enough for our platforms to join the fray." She rose from her chair and stalked to the view screen.

  It now showed Earth, and the cloud of vessels around it. She was witnessing the single largest space battle in living history, the first to involve all three races. It was even larger than the recent battle over Tigrana.

  At this distance, details were hard to pick out, but she had a general sense of the situation. The humans had been backed into the proverbial corner, their four defense stations supporting a beleaguered line of mostly human ships. Only four Primo carriers remained, each a bastion in their respective quadrant

  "Mighty Khar," Fizgig called over the comm, "lead the Jaguara and Leonis into battle."