“Four Simulin battlecruisers and ten escort cruisers,” the sensor operator answered. “There are also four large cargo ships which most likely contain Conqueror Drones.”
“Crap!” said Commander Blanton between clenched teeth. “They must be dropping more of those damn things down on the planet.”
“That’s good and bad,” Jackson said, cocking his eyebrow. “It means they’re facing stiff resistance on the surface. However, it also means that shortly they’ll be aware of our presence.”
“What are your orders, Admiral?” asked Commander Blanton.
Jackson took a deep and determined breath. “We go in, eliminate the Simulin warships, and then proceed to blow the hell out of every Conqueror Drone we can find on the surface. That’s what we brought the battlecarriers for.” There were four battlecarriers in the fleet and their main purpose in this mission was going to be clearing the surface of the planet of the drones.
Jackson quickly contacted Admiral Bachal, who was in charge of twenty powerful Alton battleships and twenty Alton battlecruisers. He then contacted the AI in command of the sixty AI warspheres, outlining his plan of attack. Overall, Jackson had one hundred and forty-nine ships under his command though fifteen of them weren’t combat ships.
Moments later, the fleet had formed up into a cone formation and was moving in toward Ornellia. It was time to show the Simulins their conquest and occupation of the Ornellian Empire had come to an end.
-
Simulin High Commander Ganol gazed in shock at the tactical screen. The Organics and AIs from the Fitula Nebula had returned.
“Numbers!” demanded Ganol, glaring at the tactical screen and all the red icons rapidly closing with his fleet. There had been no expectation of combat on this mission and as a result, he only had a small force with him.
“One hundred and forty-nine ships,” the sensor operator reported. “The majority are warships.”
Ganlon was quiet as he looked at his second in command who was consulting the ship’s battle computer. He didn’t need the computer to know his fleet was doomed unless they fled.
“Only a four percent chance of victory,” Second Commander Balod said, turning to face Ganlon. “They have the numbers.”
“The fleet will advance and engage the enemy,” ordered Ganlon, knowing his duty as a Simulin commander. If he withdrew without offering combat, he would be removed from command and possibly executed. It was the Simulin way.
“Energy screen is online and weapons are charged,” the tactical officer reported.
Ganlon looked over at Balod. “Have the Conqueror Drones been deployed?”
Balod spoke briefly over his comm and then turned back to the High Commander. “Yes, the last were deployed only a few minutes ago.”
“Order the drone ships to jump into hyperspace and return to base, and send an FTL message to our nearest fleet informing them of the presence of the Fitula organics and AIs.”
Balod looked concerned. “There are no large fleets in this sector. Since the destruction of the Great Sphere and the ships protecting it, our forces are spread too thin. Even our expansion into new space has been curtailed. There is no one to come to our assistance.”
Ganlon gazed at Balod without saying another word. The Second Commander hurriedly turned away and went to carry out his orders.
“There can be none but Simulin,” High Commander Ganlon whispered to himself as his fleet accelerated toward the enemy.
-
Admiral Jackson had formed his fleet into a cone formation with the apex forward and the battlecarriers and unarmed vessels trailing slightly behind where they would be protected. The battlecarriers could provide additional protection for the cargo ships and the hospital ship for a short time if necessary. Jackson was intent on making sure that wasn’t going to occur.
“All ships report combat ready,” said Commander Blanton.
“Combat range in twelve minutes,” added Lieutenant Ortega.
On the main viewscreens, the images shifted to show more ships of the fleet. An AI warsphere was visible as well as one of the large Alton battleships. Looking at his crew, Admiral Jackson watched as they went efficiently about their jobs. This was a well-trained group of officers and they were very adept at their duties. On another screen, a seventeen-hundred-meter Simulin battlecruiser appeared. It was bulbous in form with large metallic looking pylons stretching out in front of it. There were six of the massive structures which extended two hundred meters out from the main hull of the ship. Each ended in a sharp point and from these powerful energy weapons could be fired.
-
The two fleets continued to close with the Simulins firing first with their powerful energy cannons. On the four Simulin battlecruisers, the tips of the spires glowed brightly as the energy weapons fired. The Alton battlecruiser Starburst bore the brunt of the attack. The ship’s energy shield glowed brightly and then several beams penetrated, striking the top section of the ship. Multiple massive explosions hurled glowing debris away from the vessel, leaving two deep craters in the warship. Moments later a Simulin antimatter missile flashed through the weakened energy screen, turning the Starburst into its namesake, a glowing star.
-
“Alton battlecruiser Starburst is down,” reported Lieutenant Ortega in a shaken voice. “Several energy beams penetrated her shield and a Simulin antimatter missile detonated against the ship’s hull.”
“Return fire,” ordered Commander Blanton evenly. Even though they had a much larger fleet, the Simulin ships were still extremely dangerous, as the Starburst had just learned.
“Firing,” reported Captain Lance. “Setting weapons to continuous fire.”
-
From the Dauntless and the other ships of the fleet, a massive barrage of power beams, particle beams, and energy beams flashed out toward the incoming Simulin fleet. Particle beam fire slammed into the bow of a Simulin battlecruiser, setting off massive explosions and shearing off three of the ship’s energy weapon spires. Power beams played over the hull, carving deep glowing craters and opening up much of the ship to space. In a sudden flash of light, the battlecruiser exploded.
The strikecruiser Liberty suddenly found itself under heavy energy weapons fire from four Simulin cruisers. Its shields flared up brightly and then three Simulin energy beams penetrated. The top section of the ship exploded and debris started drifting away. Secondary explosions began to rip through the ship, opening up compartment after compartment. The ship seemed to disintegrate as the stress on the ship’s structure became too much.
Another Simulin battlecruiser was blown apart as particle beams and power beams weakened the ship’s energy screen, allowing a Devastator Three missile to impact the hull. The fifty-megaton explosion vaporized the ship, leaving only a few wisps of glowing gas behind.
-
“Strikecruiser Liberty is down,” reported Lieutenant Ortega. “We’ve also taken out three more of their support cruisers and another one of the battlecruisers.”
“Intensify the attack,” ordered Admiral Jackson, his eyes narrowing to dangerous slits. “I don’t want any of those warships escaping.”
On one of the main viewscreens, Jackson saw a Simulin escort cruiser suddenly break in two as numerous particle beams carved up the ship. The Dauntless abruptly shuddered violently and the lights dimmed.
“Energy beam hit to the hull at bulkhead eighteen compartment forty-seven,” damage control reported. “The compartment is open to space and the surrounding area is being evacuated.”
Jackson nodded. He knew he had probably just lost some crewmembers, but he was determined to finish this battle and destroy every Simulin ship in the attacking fleet.
A sudden bright explosion suddenly filled one of the viewscreens, causing it to dim to darkness. “What was that?”
“Warsphere WS-114 is down,” Ortega answered as he studied his sensors. “It suffered a complete shield failure.”
-
High Commander Gan
lon grimaced as the restraining straps holding him to his command chair bit deeply into his skin. The communications console suddenly exploded, sending a spray of sparks across the Command Center. The communications officer screamed in pain and collapsed to the deck.
Ganlon gripped his command chair’s armrests as the ship was struck by intense weapons fire. He could hear the shrieking sound of metal tearing and being ripped open to space. It was a sound he had never heard before.
More energy beams were penetrating the shields, rattling the ship with each hit. Additional lights on the damage control console turned a glaring red.
Balod picked himself up off the deck. His right arm was hanging limply at his side. Glancing at a computer screen, he turned to face the High Commander as he tried to straighten his uniform. “The battle computer says there is no chance for victory. There are only three vessels of our fleet still surviving; our battlecruiser and two support cruisers.”
High Commander Ganlon blinked his eyes and looked around the smoke filled Command Center, taking stock of the situation. The ship suddenly shook violently and the damage control board lit up with even more red lights. He had never heard of a battle computer predicting a zero chance of a Simulin victory.
“Multiple breaches along the forward hull. We’re venting atmosphere and there are several fires out of control.” The ship shook fiercely and then several more times in rapid succession. “Secondary explosions,” the damage control officer said, looking over toward the High Commander.
Taking a deep breath, High Commander Ganlon unbuckled his restraining harness as it was bruising his skin and making it difficult to breathe. Just as he stood up, the deck heaved underneath him and he found himself flying through the air. Struggling to stand he stumbled backward, coming up against his command chair. Everywhere he looked he saw smoke, sparks, and fire. Nearly every light on the damage control board was glowing red. Taking a deep breath, High Commander Ganlon prepared to die. “There can be none but Simulin,” he said, facing his surviving command crew.
“None but Simulin,” they replied in unison as blinding light and heat suddenly swept through the Command Center, annihilating everything and everyone in its path.
-
“Final Simulin battlecruiser is down,” reported Lieutenant Ortega.
Admiral Jackson breathed a sigh of relief. “What about their four drone carriers?”
“They escaped into hyperspace,” Ortega replied.
“Very well. Commander Blanton, take us into orbit around Ornellia. Let’s find out how many survivors still exist on the planet.”
-
On Ornellia Dax Matol was in the Control Center of a small bunker complex in the mountains. For months they had hidden from the dangerous Conqueror Drones that roamed the surface. Since the Humans had come and destroyed many of the drones, the surviving bunkers had hunkered down and kept their existence a secret. Small groups of soldiers were occasionally sent out to seek more survivors and take them to caves or areas still deemed to be safe. Every day the soldiers found fewer and fewer survivors.
“Anything new?” asked Dax as he stepped into the Control Center. Dax was bipedal and stood slightly shorter than a Human. His eyes were wide and narrow and his head was nearly round. Two small ears were on the side of his the head and he was bald. His skin color was a deep dark gray. Dax’s arms were very thin with three fingers and a thumb on each hand.
“No, it’s the same as yesterday,” answered Les Ketene, glancing over at Dax. “The sensors picked up two Conqueror Drones on the far side of the mountain on one of the roads, but they were headed back down toward Dorman.” Dorman was a small city thirty kilometers away. It had escaped the Simulin nuclear strikes but the drones had made short work of the population, slaughtering everyone including women and children.
“Sir, I have a number of large contacts going into orbit,” reported the Control Center’s sensor operator. They still had contact with a few surviving military satellites.
“More Simulins,” groaned Les. “How many more Conqueror Drones are they going to land?”
“They’re not Simulin,” the sensor operator said in a soft voice as he stared in amazement at the sensor screen. “They’re Human, Alton, and AIs. It’s a full-sized fleet!”
Les turned excitedly toward Dax. “Admiral Barnes promised they would return someday and free us. Perhaps it’s her returning!”
Dax stepped over next to the communications officer. “See if you can contact the Distant Horizon; that’s the admiral’s command ship.” Dax knew he was taking a risk breaking communications silence but if this was Admiral Barnes returning, he wanted her to know they still survived.
For several long minutes, there was no response to their communications attempts, and then a strange voice came over the comm. “This is Admiral Jackson, the commanding officer of the fleet currently in orbit above Ornellia.”
“Where’s Admiral Barnes?” Dax asked into the comm.
There was silence for a long moment and then the admiral’s voice responded. “I’m sorry to report that Admiral Barnes lost her life in a great battle which significantly weakened the Simulin presence in this galaxy. Her sacrifice is what allowed us to return today.”
Dax took a deep breath. After all the death he had seen on his world, he understood how easily lives were lost in battles. “I am sorry to hear that. How long will your fleet be staying in orbit? We would like to conduct some rescue missions as well as search for additional supplies. I am sure the other bunkers would like to do the same.”
“Indefinitely,” Admiral Jackson replied. “We’re going to set up a permanent base here in the Ornellian System, and we’ve brought some very powerful defensive satellites to place in orbit.”
Dax felt faint at hearing the admiral’s words. Could it be true, were the Humans and their allies returning to save what was left of his world? There was complete silence in the Control Center as everyone looked as if they couldn’t believe the words they had just heard. “I don’t know what to say,” Dax said finally. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Contact your other bunkers and inform them of what’s going on. I have four battlecarriers with me, and I intend to use their fighters and bombers to begin clearing the surface of Ornellia of Conqueror Drones. I would like to coordinate the surface strikes with your people to ensure there are no incidental Ornellian casualties.”
“It will be done,” Dax promised. It was about time the deadly Conqueror Drones were eliminated. The automations were gruesome killing machines, which showed no mercy.
“We will keep this frequency open,” Admiral Jackson said. “In the meantime, we’re going to begin deploying the new defensive grid for your planet. Contact me again once you’ve spoken to your other bunkers.”
“I will,” Dax replied as he turned away from the comm. He looked around at the stunned faces in the Control Center. “Communications, begin contacting the other bunkers. We have a world to take back and with the Humans’ help, rebuild.” As he finished speaking, the Control Center erupted in loud cheers and excited voices.
-
Admiral Jackson allowed himself to smile. It felt good to bring hope back to the people of Ornellia. Admiral Barnes had mentioned several times that the Ornellians were a good and honorable race. A race that if they could have been found sooner, would have been powerful allies.
“Commander Blanton, contact Admiral Bachal and inform him to begin emplacing the defensive grid.”
“Yes, Admiral,” Blanton replied as she began passing on the order.
They had brought six hundred particle beam satellites as well as six Type Two battlestations. The battlestations would serve as control centers for the satellites. With the satellites, the battlestations, and the fleet, Jackson felt confident he could hold the planet against the Simulins. He also had two fleet repair ships which he could use to build more satellites or repair any damage done to his warships. If the Simulins returned, they wouldn’t like what they would find a
t Ornellia.
-
Two days later, Captain Marsha Trask was in her Anlon bomber. Below her, the surface of Ornellia flashed by. It pained her to fly over the devastated landscape. There were so many lifeless cities with blast craters in their centers. Some of the larger cities had been hit multiple times. Crumbled buildings, twisted wreckage, and deep layers of ash told the story of the deadly bombardment. However, even in those forsaken areas, a few Conqueror Drones could be found.
“Contacts,” reported Lieutenant Fry. “Conqueror Drones confirmed.”
“Let’s take them out,” Ordered Marsha as she dove her bomber toward the surface.
For the last two days, the fighters and bombers from all four battlecarriers had been carrying out around the clock attacks on formations of Conqueror Drones. From orbit the warships occasionally fired KEW rounds at the surface, annihilating any large concentrations of the drones.
Looking down, Marsha saw eight of the crab-like drones moving down a shattered highway in formation. They had numerous legs and four appendages with large and dangerous looking claws used to tear their prey apart. Without hesitation, she locked on them and fired a modified Shrike missile with a high explosive warhead. The missile dropped away from her right wing and moments later the roadway erupted in fire and smoke. A second missile from Lieutenant Fry’s bomber also impacted, causing more carnage. When the smoke cleared, all that was left of the drones were several piles of twisted and smoking metal.
“Scratch eight drones,” Lieutenant Fry said elatedly. “That makes over forty on this attack mission.”
“Let’s just hope the others are doing as well,” Marsha commented as she began to climb up higher so the sensors could get a better view of the ground. Between the four battlecarriers, they had four hundred and eighty Talon fighters and three hundred and twenty Anlon bombers.
-
In orbit, Admiral Jackson nodded in satisfaction at the reports coming in. Between the airstrikes from the fleet’s fighters and bombers and the Ornellians using their surviving military to hit pockets of the deadly drones, the number of Conqueror Drones on the planet were rapidly decreasing.
The Lost Fleet: Genesis: A Slaver Wars Novel Page 13
