Galactic Empire Wars: Rebellion (The Galactic Empire Wars Book 3)

by Raymond L. Weil

  “Engineering reports Fold Space Drive operating within normal parameters,” Commander Shepherd stated, satisfied that the ship was finally underway.

  Wade glanced at the tactical screen showing a jumble of green icons, which designated the estimated location of fleet ships. At the speed they were traveling, the icons were only a computer-generated estimate of where the ships were in relation to the Constellation. Fortunately, one of the side effects of the Fold Space Drive was that no two ships could occupy the same point in space as the drive formed a small protective spatial bubble, which would repel an identical bubble or, in simpler terms, push it gently away. Of course no one was certain what the results of a head on collision would be. Scientists had been hesitant to attempt such a collision as several top Kivean space scientists had suggested it might result in an actual rip in space-time.

  They were going nearly fifteen hundred light years, which was a flight time of approximately twenty days during which the fleet would drop out of Fold Space four times for routine maintenance checks. The new Fold Space Drives the ships were equipped with allowed for a cruising speed of nearly eighty light years per day, though the new battlecruisers were capable of slightly over ninety.

  Looking at the green icons on the tactical screen, Wade wondered which one was the Fire Fox where Beth was. Beth and Major Jeffries were planning to work on battle simulations in case they had to drive the Kleese from one of the nonaligned worlds. Each time the fleet dropped out of Fold Space he planned on going over to the Fire Fox for a strategy meeting if time permitted. He also wanted to see his wife on occasion as this could be a long mission.

  -

  Ryan flexed his metal encased hand, still feeling awe at the sensations the suit generated within his mind. The Type Four battlesuit was eight feet tall and made out of a new type of composite material, which was stronger and lighter than that of the Type Three suits. It allowed for greater flexibility in movement that at times made the wearer almost forget he or she was encased inside one. In addition, the Type Four suit was capable of operating in full combat conditions for nearly twenty hours before needing to be recharged. In non-combat situations, the suit could keep its wearer alive for well over a week.

  Ryan recalled the first time he'd put on the Type Four battlesuit. They went on the same as the Type Threes; the suits opened up in the front and you stepped backward into the suit and allowed it to seal up around you. Many marines felt a momentary sense of claustrophobia during that brief moment as the suit sealed off the outside world. Activating and controlling the suit was also much different and had taken some getting used to.

  In the Type Fours, a microscopic wire entered the base of your neck and connected to the neuro transmitter inside the cortex. Ryan knew that on the back of his neck was a small insertion port protected by titanium about the size of a dime. The suit connected to the port and then sent a microscopic wire snaking along a miniscule titanium tunnel leading to the neuro transmitter buried deep inside Ryan’s brain.

  “All right, Lieutenant Nelson; you can come down now.”

  Ryan looked down at Sergeant Olivia Morris, who was helping him operate the antigravity repeller plates in the feet of his suit. For the last ten minutes, he'd been hovering in the air about ten meters above the ground. The antigravity plates generated a repelling force, which allowed the Type Four battlesuit a limited flying ability. It was something exceedingly difficult to control as Ryan and numerous others in his platoon had learned the hard way when they'd slammed into the ground on several occasions. There had even been a few broken limbs, but medical nanites had made quick repairs to the broken bones and tissue, getting the marines back into the training program within just a few days.

  Ryan directed the suit back down, knowing that the suit’s on board computer system would keep him balanced until his feet touched the parade grounds. He breathed a sigh of relief as he touched down and didn’t stumble.

  “You didn’t crash this time,” commented Casey, who'd been watching Ryan with interest. She was next in line after the lieutenant.

  “It becomes more automatic with time, just like walking,” spoke Sergeant Morris as she turned to face Corporal Hunter. She'd formerly been in Major Winfrey’s British Special Forces group and volunteered for the initial Type Four training along with Captain Taylor. Now they were serving as instructors. “You have to learn to trust your neural implant. Just as when you walk or run you trust your body not to fall.”

  “I guess it’s my turn,” Casey spoke, uneasily.

  She'd crashed violently into the ground several times and even dislocated her shoulder on her last attempt. Casey stepped forward, knowing many of her fellow platoon members were watching. She had to master this if she expected to lead them into battle.

  “Remember, Corporal Hunter,” Sergeant Morris spoke in a reassuring voice. “Just think about what you want to do and the neural implant will take care of the rest.”

  Casey took a deep breath, nodding her head. The neural transmitter was linked directly to the central computer of the battlesuit, which controlled all of the suit’s intricate functions. She knew it was just a matter of trust.

  Focusing her mind, Casey actuated the antigravity repeller units and felt herself lift slowly up off the ground. She could tell the suit was wobbly. She immediately put her arms out and began flailing about trying to keep her balance.

  “Don’t fight it,” instructed Sergeant Morris, keeping a watchful eye on the corporal. “By moving your arms around you’re fighting the suit’s own attempts to keep you properly balanced.”

  Trying to calm her nerves, Casey lowered her arms to her side and felt the suit quickly stabilize. Remarkably, this reminded her of the first steps she'd taken after coming out of the cloning chamber back on Vesta. She recalled how the nurses had worked at keeping her calm and saying soothing words. Now it seemed Sergeant Morris was assuming that role teaching her to fly the Type Four battlesuit.

  For the next ten minutes, the sergeant talked Casey through some simple flight maneuvers. There were smaller antigravity repeller units on the sides of her metal feet, which could cause the suit to move forward or backward. Forward wasn’t so difficult, but backward was something else. Going backward Casey nearly slammed into the ground but managed to recover just in time to avoid a crash. Morris had Casey practice several more times moving backward until she was satisfied the corporal wouldn’t hurt herself or anyone else. When the drill was finally over, Casey landed the suit, touching down lightly.

  “Not bad,” Ryan said with admiration. “In another few weeks, we’ll all be flying around like birds.”

  “I think I'd prefer a Road Runner,” uttered Casey, turning to face Ryan. “They spend most of their time on the ground.”

  “As will you,” Sergeant Morris interjected. “You’ll find by activating the repeller units at varying strengths, you can jump the battlesuit higher and farther. If you want to reach a rooftop, the repellers will help immensely. Flight should only be used as a last resort because it makes you plainly visible to the enemy, who will probably attempt to shoot you down.”

  -

  Later, Ryan’s platoon was in the mess hall eating their evening meal. One thing he could say about the marines, they had the best cooks in the military. He looked down at his plate, which held a sizable portion of meatloaf, mashed potatoes and gravy, and green beans. Several buttered dinner rolls were also over on the side.

  “I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to flying,” Casey moaned as she leaned back and gazed over at Ryan. “I guess I’m just afraid of falling.”

  “That’s what we have medical facilities for,” Private Adams said with a grin.

  She'd witnessed several of Casey’s spectacular crashes. Lauren had taken to flying like a duck to water and found it an exciting and fun experience. She could easily see where it could be used to give oneself a tactical advantage over an enemy.

  “I hear we get to try Charring again in a few days,” Private Parker
voiced with a deep sigh. “I hate getting killed on that damn mountain!”

  “Maybe we won’t get killed this time,” Private Swen spoke in a hopeful voice, looking over at Casey and Ryan hoping they would agree.

  “They’re not going to make it easy on us,” Casey answered her hazel eyes looking at the others. “I’m afraid what we went through the first two times on Charring will seem like child’s play compared to what they’re going to put us through this time.”

  Lauren looked thoughtful and then nodded her head. “They want us to be the best possible. These new suits must cost a fortune and they expect us to learn how to use them to their maximum capability.”

  “It’s going to be tough,” Ryan admitted in between bites of his meatloaf. “I suspect we’re going to see a lot of Charring Mountain and each time they’re going to make the drill more difficult.”

  “They’re not going to let us win,” stated Lauren her eyes narrowing.

  “Oh, we can win,” answered Ryan, putting his fork down and leaning forward on his elbows. “They’re just going to make it as difficult as possible. We have to learn how to use the new suits so we can make it to the top.”

  He looked down at the remaining food on his plate. It reminded him of the meals his mother cooked. It would be nice to get some leave once this training was over so he could return to Vesta and see his parents. He had received a short message from Wade mentioning that he was leaving on a mission and would be gone for several months. That could mean only one thing; his older brother had left on a mission outside the solar system. He wished he could have seen Wade one more time before he left. He had a few questions he would like to ask him; now they would have to wait.

  “How long do you think this training will last?” asked Casey, looking across the table at Ryan.

  “Six more weeks possibly,” answered Ryan, thinking about the training schedule Major Winfrey and Major Stevens had discussed with him and the other lieutenants. “We have a lot to learn, and look how long the training took in the Type Two and Type Three suits.”

  Lauren nodded. “I get the impression they want to deploy us as soon as possible. It wouldn’t surprise me if they have our first mission already in mind.”

  Ryan was silent. He wondered if that mission might have anything to do with whatever his brother was up to. Reaching for his tea, Ryan took a long drink as he thought about what uses the Type Four suits could be put to. The most likely seemed to be direct combat against the Kleese themselves. To the best of his knowledge, no one had ever fought a Kleese wearing a battlesuit. Ryan had a bad feeling that was about to change and they would get to experience it first hand.

  -

  Beth was in the Command Center of the Fire Fox along with Captains Foster and Stern. They were well on their way to their first drop out point and they had come to the Command Center to watch.

  “Four hundred light years in five days,” boasted Captain Trace Stockwell with a pleased look upon his face. “That’s much better than the last time we left the solar system.”

  Beth had to agree. The last time she'd been on board the Fire Fox was when they had launched the rescue operation on the Kivean home world. There had been some brief heavy combat in that operation, and if they had to go into combat this time, she was glad to have the two officers standing beside her along.

  “I checked out the new hover tanks,” Captain Nicole Foster spoke, her eyes focused on the ship’s main viewscreens. “We have eight of them on board and they have a powerful energy cannon as the main armament. The tanks have two secondary railgun cannons and dual explosive launchers. If we need some heavy firepower, they’ll serve very well.”

  “They also have suit energy recharging stations built into them,” Captain Stern added her deep blue eyes focusing on Major Williams. “They might come in useful in a long battle or a long term deployment.”

  “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” Beth responded. She had no desire to spend days cooped up inside a battlesuit.

  “Dropping out of Fold Space in one minute,” reported Ensign Patrick Walker.

  “All stations are at Condition Two,” reported Lieutenant Eugene Bryan. Eugene was the main sensor officer and also doubled as executive officer. The ship was at Condition Two as a standard precaution since they were dropping out of Fold Space into an unknown star system.

  “Drop out!” called out Ensign Walker.

  The main viewscreens seemed to shimmer and then the stars swam into sharp focus.

  “Beginning sensor sweeps,” added Lieutenant Bryan. “The rest of Seventh Fleet is dropping out.”

  “I have the flag,” reported Ensign Janice Brill from Communications. “Admiral Adamson is giving us six hours to run system checks and do any necessary maintenance.”

  “Assault ships are moving into defensive positions around the fleet,” spoke Lieutenant Bryan as he watched the numerous green icons now on his sensor screens beginning to shift around. “No hostile or unknown targets being detected within twenty light seconds. Long-range sensors are beginning scans.”

  “Looks as if we’re in the clear,” commented Captain Foster with a relieved look upon her face. She didn’t mind combat but preferred it on the ground where she could control the situation. She felt helpless aboard a ship where all she could do was watch.

  They waited a few more minutes until the long-range sensors indicated there were no detectable threats in sensor range. Once that was confirmed, the ship was placed at Condition Three.

  Beth nodded, pleased that so far the mission was going smoothly. “Let’s head down to the barracks and get some additional training time in today.”

  Beth preferred to stay busy as it kept her mind off being apart from Wade as well as leaving her mother in the retirement center at Vesta. She greatly feared one day she would be gone on a long deployment to return and find that her mother had passed on.

  “Sergeants Russell and Dawson will be glad to hear that,” Nicole spoke with a wolfish grin on her face.

  Russell and Dawson had both refused promotions to lieutenants as they felt more comfortable with their current rank. Russell and Dawson both had platoons they were in charge of, and there had been an intense rivalry between them for years. Nicole just enjoyed stoking the fire a little every once and a while.

  As they made their way out of the Command Center, Beth took one last look at one of the viewscreens displaying the Constellation. She knew on their next Fold Space dropout that Wade was planning on coming over to the Fire Fox. For now, she needed to work off her pent up energy and the best way to do that was to run combat drills in battlesuits with some of her marines.

  With a deep sigh, she stepped through the hatch and into the outside corridor. She reminded herself she had a meeting with Harnett later to discuss the treatment of injured marines in battlefield conditions. Harnett had been working on a way to use medical nanites in combat situations. Harnett was a brilliant Kivean doctor and had been instrumental in acquiring the production system for medical nanites on the trip to the nonaligned worlds' trading station six years back. She'd also helped set up the ultra modern hospitals and medical research centers inside Vesta. From what Wade had told her, President Randle’s oldest niece was going to be tutored by Harnett personally.

  Thinking about kids, Beth wondered when she and Wade should think about having some. They had discussed it, but they both wanted a better feel for how the war was going to go though the solar system did have some very powerful defenses now, particularly Vesta. Maybe when this deployment was over she would bring the subject up again. But for now, she needed to focus on getting her marines ready for combat.

  -

  Supreme Overlord Xatul looked over the assembled Council of Overlords. Including himself there were twenty Kleese represented, though four of those were members of the Zaltule. As a precaution, Xatul was keeping twenty of the large exploration ships above the home planet to ensure that Harmock didn’t try to remove him from power.

  “Wh
at are the latest reports from the Zaltule shipyards?” he demanded in a harsh and unforgiving voice.

  “They’re turning out new warships as required,” Raluth answered his hard gaze meeting that of the Supreme Overlord. “Material shipments are being met and Minor Overlord Kaluse feels confident that he can meet all of War Overlord Harmock’s fleet demands.”

  “Two new shipyards are even now being constructed,” the Zaltule Overlord Darthu added in a cold voice. “Ships are being equipped with the most modern weapons known to our science. We’re also in the process of updating some of our older vessels.”

  “What’s the current size of the Zaltule fleet?” asked Bixutl. He placed his hands upon the stone table and leaned slightly forward. It seemed to him the Zaltule were becoming too powerful too quickly and it was only a matter of time before they demanded even more seats on the council.

  “Six thousand two hundred vessels,” answered Darthu, promptly. “War Overlord Harmock is seeking a fleet of ten thousand vessels to ensure our successful conquest of all races that might oppose our Empire.”

  “What about the Talt?” questioned Bixutl, recalling the report Darthu had delivered to the council a few days back. “They inflicted considerable losses on War Overlord Harmock’s fleet with their plasma weapons. They also possess a subspace drive that seems to be superior to ours. Have we located samples or the designs for either?”

  “A minor setback,” responded Darthu, evenly. “We have some of our top scientists and technicians on the Taltian home world searching for the secret of their plasma weapon as well as their subspace drive. From sensor scans taken by our warships, it’s very probable that with a little more research our own scientists can duplicate both even if we can’t find the blueprints.”

  “There are many more nonaligned worlds,” spoke Martule, hesitantly. “Many will be as powerful as the Talt. What are Harmock’s plans for dealing with them? We still have our exploration fleet as well as thousands of assault ships, which could be used to help the Zaltule subdue those worlds.”