The Lost Fleet: Search for the Originators: A Slaver Wars Novel

by Raymond L. Weil

“And during that time, the Conqueror Drones will be hunting them down and killing them.”

  “We’ll save as many as possible,” Dax said somberly. “That’s all we can do.”

  -

  On Absom, Captain Marsha Trask dove her Anlon bomber in a steep dive. She could feel a slight vibration from the bomber’s rapid passage through the air. Below her a large formation of Conqueror Drones were advancing on what was believed to be a deep shelter the Ornellians had established on Absom. They had tried to contact the shelter but had received no response. Marsha was certain they were fearful of giving away their position to the drones. “Arm Shrike missiles,” she ordered over her comm channel, which connected her to the other five bombers in her squadron.

  Down below the advancing Conqueror Drones suddenly came to a stop. The drones were crab-like creatures about ten feet across with numerous legs and four appendages with large and dangerous looking claws. They killed their victims by tearing them apart. Some of the more modern drones were equipped with energy weapons and even surface to air missiles. They hesitated as their sensors picked up the inbound bombers. Two of the drones suddenly reared up and an opening appeared in their carapace. A pair of missile suddenly shot out aiming for the diving bombers.

  “Vampire, Vampire!” called out Lieutenant Fry as red threat icons appeared on his sensor screen. “Inbound missiles, two of them.”

  “Fire Hunter interceptors,” ordered Captain Trask calmly.

  Instantly, from one of the bombers a pair of Hunter missiles dropped away from the wings and accelerated rapidly toward the two small drone missiles. Seconds later brilliant explosions declared their successful interceptions. Hunter interceptors very seldom missed.

  “Damn drones aren’t supposed to shoot back,” muttered Lieutenant Fry over the comm.

  “Let’s finish our attack run,” ordered Captain Trask. “We need to take them out before they fire any more missiles.”

  The area below them was lightly forested and most of the drones were in the open. Nearly two hundred Conqueror Drones had come to a stop as they watched the descending bombers. Then something must have happened as they all turned and began racing toward the small mountain they had been advancing on.

  “They’re trying to escape,” called out Captain Trask. “Fire!” She had no intention of allowing the drones to reach the mountain.

  “Missiles away,” called out Lieutenant Fry as he let loose two of his Shrike missiles with high-explosive warheads.

  Other pilots confirmed their missiles had been fired as well.

  Captain Trask pressed the firing button on her console and two missiles dropped from her Anlon’s wings and darted toward the surface.

  The first missile struck, obliterating every drone within a fifty-meter radius. Smoke and fire covered the landscape. Other missiles impacted, destroying dozens of Conqueror Drones. Dark gray smoke was sent rising up into the air. Then the explosions stopped and the bombers pulled out of their dives.

  Marsha looked down seeing the ground littered with Conqueror Drone parts. Legs, carapaces, pincers, and internal mechanisms were scattered everywhere. Smoke obscured large areas making it difficult to see the ground. However, a few drones had escaped and were still moving toward the mountain. With a deep sigh, she knew what needed to be done. Anlon bombers were not the only craft that had come on this mission.

  “Black Rain, this is Raider One,” Marsha spoke over her comm. “Missiles have been dropped but a few drones escaped. They’re moving toward the mountain.”

  “We see them,” Captain Scott answered over the comm. “My Talons are on the way. We’ll make sure none escape.”

  As Marsha’s bomber leveled out, she saw the six Talon fighters of Black Rain squadron flash by on their attack run. From the fighters, cannon fire began strafing the fleeing Conqueror Drones, blowing them apart. As Marsha’s bomber continued to climb, she watched as the Talons made a number of runs over the target area firing their cannons. Then the Talons turned and began climbing as well.

  “All targets eliminated,” reported Captain Scott. “I hope the other squadrons were as successful.”

  “I’m sure they were,” Marsha replied. Looking out of her cockpit window, she could see other explosions in the distance. Additional fighters and bombers were busy in other locations around the small mountain destroying the Conquer Drones before they could reach their target.

  “Surely the Ornellians inside the bunker complex beneath that mountain will answer now,” said Lieutenant Fry. “They had to see what we just did.”

  “That’s up to Admiral Santeld and Commander Frisk,” Marsha responded. Commander Frisk was the commanding officer of the battlecarrier Exeter, in orbit around Absom along with the battlecarrier Reprisal. Admiral Santeld was present in his flagship, the Ornellian battlecruiser Dawn Ascendant.

  “This is Gold squadron,” a voice came over Marsha’s comm. “We have a large number of Conqueror Drones nearing the mountain. We’re not going to be able to get them all. We’re running low on missiles and our fighters have nearly exhausted their cannon rounds.”

  “This is Raider One,” Marsha answered. “We have a few missiles left. We’re on our way.”

  “This is Black Talon One, we’re coming also.”

  “More crabs to kill,” chimed in Lieutenant Fry. “I think this is going to be a record for one mission.”

  “Just don’t get your ass shot down by one of their missiles,” a woman’s voice retorted.

  “Can the chatter,” Marsha ordered. “Let’s go stop those drones from reaching the mountain.”

  The two squadrons quickly adjusted their course toward the far side of the mountain where clouds of smoke from missile strikes were rising into the air. It didn’t take them long to reach the target area. The ground was covered with huge blast craters and piles of destroyed Conqueror Drones.

  “There must have been thousands of them,” muttered Lieutenant Fry in disbelief. “Where did so many of them come from?”

  “The Simulins dropped a lot of them on the planet,” one of the other female pilots commented. “There may be over a hundred thousand of them from what I’ve heard.”

  Marsha nodded. Some of the blast craters were indicative of KEW strikes being called down from orbit. “All Raiders, break formation and search for targets, particularly around the slope of the mountain.”

  “A Talon will accompany each one of the Anlons,” ordered Captain Scott over the general comm frequency. “Pair up and watch out for missiles. We already know these particular Conqueror Drones are of the newer model and possess them.”

  The two squadrons quickly intermixed and accelerated toward the slope of the mountain seeking targets.

  Marsha gazed out of the cockpit window seeing a lot of movement down below. The drones were entering a more heavily forested area. “All Raiders, we’ll have to use our sensors for targeting. The forest is shielding most of the drones from view.”

  Marsha looked at her sensors as numerous red threat icons appeared. Picking out a large cluster, she fired her last Shrike missile. With satisfaction, she saw it accelerate and then exploded beneath the forest canopy. A towering fireball appeared as it rose through the trees catching many of them on fire. On her sensors, she saw the drones she had targeted had stopped moving and were no longer a threat.

  Around her, the other bombers of her squadron were firing their remaining missiles while the fighters were doing strafing runs ensuring none of the Conqueror Drones escaped. She was just about to call for withdrawal when half a dozen drone interceptor missiles appeared through the forest canopy. All were targeted on a single Anlon bomber that was flying way too low.

  “Lieutenant Fry! Get your ass out of there!” There was no doubt in her mind the young lieutenant had been using his bomber’s cannons to strafe the drones. It aggravated her as that was the job of the faster moving fighters, not the more vulnerable slow moving bombers. She also wondered how he had managed to lose his fighter escort.

&
nbsp; “Missiles are locked on,” Fry called out as he pulled up and tried to gain altitude. “I fired my last Hunter, but it’s not going to be enough.”

  “This is Black Rain Two; I’m on my way, just stay out of the way of those missiles for a few seconds longer.”

  Marsha watched as the lieutenant rolled his bomber and then went into a sharp turn trying to lose the rapidly approaching missiles. One shot by his bomber as it lost target lock, but the four remaining were nearly upon the Anlon.

  Two Hunter interceptors suddenly arrowed in taking out two more of the missiles as the Anlon fighter arrived. However, the other two were almost to the Talon. The fighter wouldn’t have time to turn and take them out. Marsha watched in horror knowing there was nothing she could do.

  “Punching out!” yelled a frightened Lieutenant Fry over the comm just before the first of the two missiles slammed into the belly of his bomber.

  In a flash of light, the bomber exploded, breaking up into a thousand pieces that fell back into the forest, starting more fires. The other missile continued through the bomber’s former location and then ran out of fuel to fall harmlessly back to the ground.

  “Anyone see Lieutenant Fry?” Marsha demanded as she turned her bomber toward where the lieutenant’s bomber had been destroyed. She looked intently hoping to spot his parachute.

  “Got him,” called out the pilot flying the Anlon fighter that had been trying to aid the lieutenant. “His chute’s open and he appears to be fine. He’s waving at me.”

  “Except he’s going to land in a damn nest of Conqueror Drones!” exclaimed one of the other bomber pilots. “He won’t last long.”

  “I’ll have my fighters circle his position until he can be picked up,” said Captain Scott. “We still have a few cannon rounds left.”

  Marsha nodded to herself. She had already sent a request to the battlecarrier Exeter for an emergency pickup. A ready shuttle with a squad of heavily armed Marines would be on the way shortly. However, it would take about twenty minutes for the shuttle to arrive. That was how long the fighters would have to keep the drones off the lieutenant. Marsha could well imagine how Lieutenant Fry was feeling. No one wanted to be on the ground where there were Conqueror Drones. Checking her sensors, she still saw movement under the forest canopy. Not near as much as before, but there were still drones active on the ground.

  “All Raiders return to the Exeter,” she ordered. Marsha took her bomber up to a higher altitude and then slowly began to circle. She was going to remain until Lieutenant Fry was rescued. She didn’t want to think of the other possibility if the drones reached him first.

  -

  Lieutenant Fry came crashing down through the forest canopy to land hard on the ground below. Standing up he quickly got out of his parachute harness and grabbed the pistol strapped to his waist. The pistol held explosive rounds, but he didn’t know how they would do against a Conqueror Drone.

  “My ass is done for,” he muttered under his breath as he scanned his surroundings. All around him were trees and thick undergrowth. He could smell the acrid fumes from the smoke coming from a number of burning fires. He knew he was in a perilous situation. If the drones didn’t get him, the fires might. He should never have taken his bomber so low.

  “Lieutenant Fry, this is Captain Scott, can you hear me?”

  Fry had forgotten about his emergency transmitter. Grabbing it from his waist with his free hand, he answered the captain. “Yeah, I can hear you.”

  “My fighters are flying above you and will attempt to keep the drones away. Captain Trask has already requested a SAR shuttle to be dispatched from the Exeter. It’s full of Marines and they’ll pull you out.”

  “How long until extraction?”

  There was silence for a moment and then Scott’s voice returned. “About twenty minutes.”

  “Damn,” uttered Fry as he heard cannon fire from one of the Talons to the west. “Just keep those crabs off me. I’ve got a date with a gorgeous brunette tonight.”

  Scott laughed. “I’ll see to it that you keep that appointment, Lieutenant.”

  Lieutenant Fry looked around his location and spotted a large dead tree trunk that he could hide behind. It also had a slight cavity in it where he could partially wedge his body until the Marines arrived. “Why me?” he muttered as he squirmed inside the cavity. His body was now well hidden however; he knew the Conqueror Drones had a number of sensors, including infrared, which they could use to spot him. He only hoped with all the fires burning their sensors would be useless. There was also a lot of smoke around which was making it difficult to see far into the surrounding forest.

  For several long minutes everything was quiet except for the occasional strafing runs being done by the fighters. He knew each time he heard cannon fire a Conqueror Drone was being destroyed that was approaching his location. Too many times he heard the sounds of the circling fighters overhead and cannon rounds. Suddenly, in front of him, he saw movement in the underbrush. Then large pincer-like claws appeared waving in the air followed by the rest of the drone. The damn thing looked just like an Earth crab only a thousand times larger. For a moment the drone seemed to freeze as it focused its attention on Fry and then the drone charged.

  The lieutenant aimed his pistol and very carefully began firing off explosive rounds trying to hit the same spot each time. One, two, three, and then four rounds struck the drone slowing it down, but it still continued forward waving its claws seeking to tear Fry to shreds. Five, six, seven, and then the eighth round struck the drone causing it to stop and then collapse to the ground scarcely three meters from the lieutenant. The drone’s large pincer-like claws continued to wave as it struggled to stand back up. Pulling himself out of the niche in the tree stump, Lieutenant Fry put a fresh magazine in his pistol and then very carefully aimed two more shots where he knew the metal crab’s central processor was located. With a final jerk, the Conqueror Drone stopped moving.

  “Damn,” said Fry in surprise. “I actually killed it.” He walked over and kicked it satisfied that it was dead. More noise in the undergrowth drew his attention. Much to his mortification four more drones appeared. “Guess I won’t be seeing that brunette tonight after all,” he muttered as he backed into his niche.

  A sudden roar of weapons fire suddenly rang out as explosive rounds tore into the four drones. One dropped instantly and the others seemed momentarily confused. Then more rounds struck, dropping them one by one.

  “Lieutenant Fry,” a voice called out.

  Fry wriggled himself back out of his protective niche and stood up. Looking behind the tree stump, he saw six heavily armed Marines standing there.

  “I believe you called for a ride,” said the sergeant as he walked up to the lieutenant.

  Lieutenant Fry grinned. Maybe he would get to see that brunette after all. “Yeah, let’s get out of here.”

  The sergeant looked over at the Conqueror Drones as one of his Marines walked over and carefully blew a hole in the carapace of each one where the central processor was located. “Your ride’s over this way,” the sergeant said gesturing back behind him. “I believe you have a pair of squadron commanders circling overhead that will be very glad to hear from you.”

  Fry remembered the emergency transmitter. In all the excitement, he had forgotten about it. Pressing the send button, he spoke into it. “Captain Trask, Captain Scott, the Marines are here and we’re proceeding to the extraction point.”

  “That’s great,” replied Captain Trask. “When you get back on board the Exeter we need to have a little talk about your flying so low.”

  Fry gulped as he knew he was in trouble. Glancing at the destroyed Conqueror Drones, he thought he could handle a chewing out from the captain. At least he was still alive.

  -

  In orbit above Ornellia, Admiral Jackson was on board his flagship, the battleship Dauntless. “What’s the latest status on the battlestations?” The six Type Two battlestations in orbit around Ornellia were going thr
ough routine maintenance checks.

  “Checks are complete and all six are combat ready,” reported Commander Sharon Blanton. “The six hundred particle beam satellites are all functional as well.”

  Jackson nodded. He had recently received a message from Fleet Admiral Strong informing him of the events with Kazak and the Simulins. That helped to explain why he hadn’t been attacked again.

  How are we doing on emplacing the FTL detection buoys in the surrounding systems?”

  “Admiral Bachal has four of his battlecruisers engaged placing the buoys. He expects to have all the systems within twenty light years of Ornellia covered within the next week.”

  Jackson looked up at one of the large viewscreens showing the Ornellian home world. The Altons had already removed much of the radiation from the planet, particularly around areas where there were survivors.

  “I’ve requested reinforcements from Gaia,” he said as he turned to face Commander Blanton. He folded his arms over his chest. “I believe it’s only a matter of time before the Simulins go back on the offensive, and there’s a good chance we’ll be their first target.”

  Commander Blanton nodded her agreement. “With all the survivors we’re finding on Ornellia and the other worlds of their empire, we need more ships. I wouldn’t mind seeing a few colony ships sent out here to help in moving them from their other planets to Ornellia. At the rate we’re going now, it will take years.”

  “I expressed that concern as well,” Admiral Jackson said.

  He knew every day the number of Ornellians surviving on the other worlds of their empire was decreasing. All of their worlds were infested with Conqueror Drones, drones that had one mission and one mission only: seek out and kill any and all survivors.

  “What do we do in the meantime?”

  “Wait,” Jackson replied. “We wait and hope the reinforcements get here in time. We also try to rescue as many survivors as possible.”

  Jackson’s eyes returned to the screen showing Ornellia. Much of the planet was dead with its vegetation wiped out in the Simulin nuclear attack. However, there were a few green areas around the mountains and the planet was slowly recovering. Admiral Bachal had mentioned that by using Alton terraforming techniques the planet could be fully restored in only a few decades. Jackson just hoped Ornellia was given those few decades so the planet could come to life once more. The Ornellians had been through enough; they shouldn’t have to see their world destroyed a second time.