The Slaver Wars: Endgame

by Raymond L. Weil

  “What about our own warships?” demanded High Councilor Ruthan his cold, dark eyes glowing red in frustration. “Can’t they secure the slave planets that produce our food to ensure the cargo ships can get through? The Humans can’t keep large fleets at all of them.”

  “It’s more complicated than that,” Nartel growled his large eyes growing narrow. “They’re destroying the orbiting shipping stations as well as the planetary collection and distribution centers. It will take a minimum of two years to rebuild what they’ve already destroyed, even with increased slave labor.”

  “Two years!” Ruthan bellowed his eyes looking desperate. “What will we do for food? Can’t we bring in supplies from the other planets in our Empire?”

  “We have enough reserve food supplies to last another month,” Berken spoke in a calmer voice. “We can perhaps ration that out to get us by a month past that. As for the other planets in our Empire, they don’t have the resources or the infrastructure to greatly expand what they’re already producing.”

  “Our people will revolt!” predicted High Councilor Jarles, shaking his reptilian head. “When the food runs out, they'll come for us and our personal habitats.”

  “Our personal habitats,” uttered Ruthan, looking shocked. “Our fleets will have to protect us, our families must be defended.”

  “Many of our ships are crewed from the planets and habitats that will be without food; they will not protect us,” High Councilor Desmonde pointed out in a cold voice. “If we are to survive we will have to find another way.”

  “We must summon the AIs!” screamed Ruthan desperately, realizing that his world could soon come crashing down around him. He looked accusingly at High Leader Nartel. “We should have already done that!”

  “The AIs will not come,” Nartel replied evenly as he looked around at the various High Councilors. “They’re rushing to finish their construction project around the black hole at the center of our galaxy. They've lost all interest in our Empire.”

  “What about the Borzon or the other two Empires?” pleaded Ruthan. “Surely they will come to our aid.”

  “No, they will not,” replied Nartel, reaching forward and pulling his knife out of the wood of the table. “The AIs have given the other Empires strict instructions not to get involved as they’re still supplying material for the AIs’ construction project.”

  “Then what will happen to our Empire?” demanded Ruthan, looking around for support from the other High Councilors. “We must do something!”

  “It will fall,” Berken said in a grim and harsh voice. “The Altons have furnished advanced weapons technology to the Humans and our fleets are being decimated whenever we attempt to engage them.”

  “We will lose all of our honor,” warned Ruthan, feeling shock at what was in store for the Empire. “What of our positions in the Empire?”

  “We have already lost our honor and will shortly lose our Empire,” Nartel responded as he put his knife back into its protective sheath. “We lost our honor when we aligned ourselves with the AIs so many eons ago.”

  “What should we do?” asked High Councilor Jarles. “We still have thousands of warships at our disposal.”

  “I’ve already dispatched additional ships to all of the surviving agricultural worlds that serve the Empire,” Nartel informed them. “I would suggest that each one of you do what is necessary to make sure your personal habitats are secure and well stocked with necessities for what is coming. In the next few weeks, we can discreetly move a few warships around to provide additional protection for our habitats. Perhaps some of us will survive. When this is over, we can come back out and begin rebuilding our Empire.”

  Ruthan stood up his jaw quivering. “This is all your fault! Since the death of High Leader Ankler, our Empire has suffered set back after set back. You should never have been made High Leader; that’s become more obvious with every passing day and each failure we’ve suffered under your rule.”

  “Do you challenge my authority?” asked Nartel in a cold voice, his hand slipping back to touch the hilt of his knife. He felt confident he could take Ruthan if necessary as long as none of the other High Councilors joined him.

  Ruthan looked frantically around at the other councilors, seeking their support. All of them refused to meet his gaze. “No,” Ruthan stammered after a moment sitting back down with a dejected look upon his face. “I withdraw my accusation.”

  “Very well then,” uttered Nartel, removing his hand from his knife. “I call this meeting to an end.”

  As the councilors left, High Councilor Berken stepped over to Nartel’s side. “We should begin our final preparations to evacuate,” he spoke in a quiet and controlled voice. “Ruthan will not be able to keep secret what was discussed today. We could see major unrest on the planets and the habitats shortly.”

  “I agree,” answered Nartel, with a nod. His large, cold eyes focused on Berken. “I would suggest we spend the next few weeks gathering ships that will be loyal to our families. If necessary, I can arrange for some personnel transfers to give us a solid core of dreadnoughts and warcruisers.”

  “I think that would be wise,” Berken nodded in agreement. “There are a number of ship crews that will be loyal to my family and others that a few key personnel changes will bring over to us.”

  “As with me,” Nartel responded. “It will have to be done gradually so as not to make the other High Councilors suspicious.”

  -

  A few minutes later, Nartel was in his office standing on the high balcony looking out over the capital city. He sighed heavily. Shortly the Hocklyn Empire would be no more; thousands of years of history would be coming to an end. Down in the city below, none of the teeming millions of inhabitants even suspected what was coming. If only the AIs had warned them about the Humans and the Altons earlier. But then again, the AIs had always had their own secretive agenda.

  Going back inside, Nartel walked over to the large map of the galaxy, which designated the Hocklyn Slave Empire. He put out the six digits of his right hand and traced the outlines of the Empire, his fingers coming to rest on a distant section. Far off to one side of the Empire a small, indiscreet star system held the Empire’s last hopes. He gazed for many long minutes at the map, wondering where they had gone wrong and what could have been done differently.

  There was no doubt the AIs had used them as pawns to create an Empire that could be used to siphon vast resources from thousands of worlds for whatever the machines were building at the galaxy’s center. Now that the work was nearing completion, the Hocklyns were no longer needed. The Humans and the Altons were coming and he doubted if there was anything that could be done to stop them. He strongly suspected that the food shortage would cause Hocklyns to begin fighting Hocklyns for what scraps remained, and when it was all over the Humans and Altons would come sweeping in to destroy what was left. He had no plans to be around when that day arrived.

  -

  Commodore Jaseth stood upon the Command Pedestal of the dreadnought Viden, watching impassively as the crew went about their normal routine. Glancing at the main viewscreen, he saw the dreadnought Final Victory slowly coasting in the fleet formation. Over the past several weeks, more ships had been assigned to his command. He now had two dreadnoughts, six warcruisers, and twelve escort cruisers in his warfleet.

  “We have a powerful force to use against the Humans,” he commented in a cold voice toward recently promoted War Leader Barelle.

  “Yes,” Barelle responded.

  He had been surprised that Jaseth had been given command of so many ships. He was by far the youngest commodore in the fleet, and Barelle was still suspicious of the promotion. He strongly suspected that there was some High Council political move being made, but he was at a loss as to what it might be. However, he had also risen in rank, which had increased his own honor.

  “When the Humans attack, we’ll make them pay a steep price for their arrogance in attacking our Empire,” Jaseth spoke in a hard rasp
ing voice. “The star lanes will run red with their blood.”

  “There will be much honor in such a battle,” Barelle responded.

  “Bah, who cares about honor where the Humans are concerned,” Jaseth spat his cold lips barely moving. “The Humans have no honor and no honor can be gained by fighting such a race.”

  “Perhaps,” answered Barelle, carefully. He knew that to say the wrong thing could easily send the young commodore into a fit of rage. He'd witnessed others suffer under Jaseth’s wrath.

  “What’s our current position?”

  “Forty million kilometers outward from Calzen,” answered Barelle, promptly.

  “Continue to hold this position,” Jaseth ordered. “If the Humans come, I want room to maneuver.”

  Jaseth gazed across the War Room. He was well aware that a number of his crew were upset he'd been given command of the Viden and promoted to the rank of commodore. That meant little to Jaseth; all that was important was that he had the weapons he needed to draw Human blood.

  -

  Six months until doomsday.

  “Latest computer estimates indicate that the Hocklyns will run out of food supplies in forty-six more days,” Clarissa spoke in her clear contralto voice, her deep blue eyes focused on Fleet Admiral Streth. “Admirals Sheen, Strong, and Tolsen have taken out twenty-one of the Hocklyns’ food producing systems with only minor losses to their fleets.”

  “They can’t make up the lost supplies,” Admiral Andrews added with a knowing look. “Their other slave worlds don’t have the production or shipping facilities.”

  Richard had come aboard after finishing the defenses in the Tellus system. Both Maken and Tellus were now protected by Alton Indomitable class battle stations and Federation produced type two stations, as well as hundreds of Alton particle beam satellites. Already, additional colonists were in the process of being moved to the two planets. It had been decided to wait until after the war before erecting additional major defenses around the other old Federation worlds. A few type two stations and a small number of Alton particle beams satellites would have to do for now.

  “Admiral Andrews is correct,” continued Clarissa her hands resting on her shapely hips. “The processing and shipping centers for food aren’t available on other worlds. They can procure some supplies, but not enough to feed the trillions of Hocklyns in the home systems.”

  “Just how many Hocklyns are in those systems?” Colonel Trist asked his eyes focusing on Clarissa. It still amazed him how life-like the female AI looked.

  “The Hocklyn home systems consist of only twelve star systems,” Clarissa replied her light blue eyes focusing on the colonel. “The AIs refused to allow the Hocklyns to occupy more. “As a result, they have domed or underground cities on most of the planets and moons in their systems as well as on some of the larger asteroids. They have also constructed tens of thousands of artificial habitats that are in orbit around their worlds and stars. Population estimates indicate well over two trillion Hocklyns live in those twelve systems.”

  “Two trillion!” stammered Colonel Trist. He'd known there were a lot, but it was nearly incomprehensible to imagine that many. “They must live like ants!”

  “Just about,” Clarissa responded. “Many of their cities extend far underground and they have had problems curbing their population growth.”

  “How do we know about all of this?” asked Admiral Andrew, feeling curious.

  “From captured computer terminals on some of the slave worlds we've taken back from the Hocklyns,” answered Colonel Grissom, entering the conversation. “Over the past year, we’ve captured quite a few Hocklyn databases on orbital stations and even upon several planets. They didn’t seem too concerned about hiding the information.”

  “So you were right in attacking their agricultural planets,” uttered Trist, gazing in wonder at the admiral. “What will they do when they run out of food?”

  “That’s the big question,” Hedon replied his brow wrinkling in thought. “I’m hoping that they’ll turn on one another in search of food supplies. If that happens then we’ll move in to finish off what’s left.”

  “We only have six months before the AIs are ready to activate their machines,” Clarissa pointed out. “We must be finished with the Hocklyns and ready to begin our move toward the galactic center no later than four months from now or all is lost.”

  “How soon before our fleets return?” Admiral Andrews asked. He would really like to spend some time with Amanda before they hit the Hocklyns and particularly before they made their attempt on the galactic center. Taking the fleets into the galactic core against massed AI fleets was going to be nearly suicidal, but what other choice did they have?

  “Third Fleet and Fourth Fleet are already on their way back,” responded Hedon, knowing Richard wanted to see his wife. “Second Fleet has one more target to hit and then they’ll be returning. All ships will be updated and then all four fleets will set out for the Hocklyn home worlds.”

  “So this is it,” Colonel Trist said his eyes narrowing. “After all of these years we’re finally going to do it.”

  Hedon nodded his head; he still recalled how he'd felt when the StarStrike had returned to the old Federation to find all of its worlds destroyed. Since that day, he'd sworn with every living breath that someday he would make the Hocklyns’ pay for what they had taken away.

  -

  Katie, Kelsey, and Clarissa were in the officer’s mess. Katie and Kelsey were eating a plate piled high with strawberries and whipped cream with Clarissa curiously watching.

  “I still find it confusing the pleasure Humans take from eating,” Clarissa said with a mystified look on her face. “Food is nourishment and the Human body needs it for energy, the same as I need energy. But Humans seem to take a particular pleasure in some of the food items they eat, such as the strawberries the two of you are having now.”

  Katie sighed and looked over at Kelsey. Both Clarissa and Ariel had many of the same questions. Sometimes, since they were AIs and didn’t have the Human sensations of touch, smell, or taste it was difficult to explain Human emotions and actions to the two intelligent AIs.

  “Certain foods give Humans pleasure,” began Katie, trying her best to explain the taste of food to Clarissa.

  “Like sex!” Clarissa said in understanding, her eyes brightening.

  Kelsey giggled, seeing Katie’s flustered look. “Not quite, Clarissa,” Kelsey spoke. “Certain foods satisfy inner cravings we sometimes have for certain tastes.”

  “Mind if I join you?” a female voice asked.

  Looking up, Kelsey saw Captain Duncan standing there holding a cup of hot chocolate. “Sit down,” responded Kelsey, gesturing to the spot next to her.

  “So, what is Clarissa asking about now?”

  “She thinks food is like sex,” Katie mumbled with a deep sigh.

  Janice laughed and shook her head. Since the AI had been reactivated on the StarStrike, Clarissa had been full of questions. “I guess it could be in a way, but most Humans have made eating a social thing in recent years. Food has become more tasteful and chefs go out of their way to spice it up.”

  “I guess I understand,” Clarissa replied slowly, still sounding slightly confused.

  Janice looked over at the other two women. “I guess Fourth Fleet will be returning in another few weeks, so that means that Jeremy and Kevin will be back.”

  “I hope we can spend some time together,” Katie said hopefully. “I’ve already made sure the cooks on the StarStrike have a good supply of hamburgers.”

  Janice laughed. “I've heard that Kevin has a thing for hamburgers.”

  “It’s not a thing,” Kelsey responded with a grin. “It’s an obsession!”

  Then, in a lower voice, Kelsey asked, “How are things going with you and the admiral?”

  Janice looked surprised and then realized that most of the ship’s senior officers knew what was going on. “Slowly,” she responded, taking a sip of her hot c
hocolate. “I did manage to get him to go meet my parents and sister while we were in the Federation a while back.”

  “That’s progress,” Kelsey said with a knowing smile.

  “Perhaps when this war is over, we can all have normal lives,” Katie spoke longingly. She had really enjoyed the time on Careth where they had gotten to live like normal people for a few months. It'd been the best time of her life.

  “I hope so,” Janice answered. She knew it was safe to talk about nearly anything with these two, and Clarissa wouldn’t reveal any secrets either. “If we can just survive, there’s still so much ahead of us. I suppose it’s been even more difficult since the admiral split the five of you up. After all, the Special Five have been together forever, it seems like.”

  “We’re not special,” Kelsey said, shaking her head in denial. She'd never cared much for that nickname. “We’re just like everyone else.”

  “Except your parents helped to found the Federation and all five of you were the sole survivors of the New Horizon incident, the Earth’s first attempt at interstellar flight,” Janice said with a glint in her eyes. “I know you don’t like the nickname, but it'll always be there, because to most of the people in the Federation you are special, just like Fleet Admiral Streth.”

  “Who was awoken from cryosleep to save the Federation,” Katie said slowly. She knew in her heart Janice was right.

  “What will you do when the war is over?”

  “Hedon wants to settle down on Maken, on the shores of a lake his brother once had a cabin on,” Janice answered. “He’s taken me there and it’s really beautiful. What about the two of you?”

  “I don’t know,” answered Katie with a thoughtful look on her face. “Where ever it is, I think the five of us want to be close.”

  “Ceres isn’t the same as it used to be,” Kelsey said, “and Earth is too crowded. I really liked living on Careth; perhaps we’ll return there.”

  “We just need to win the war first,” Janice said.