Citation Series 1: Naero's War: The Annexation War

by Mason Elliott

  Saemar waved her hand at the caskets. “Give the honors to my beloved dead. I don’t need them. I…I don’t deserve them.”

  Naero shook her head. “No, Saemar. If you had died, everyone else in your wave would have perished with you. You all deserve these honors. They gave their lives, so that you could have the chance to save all the others. They understood and accepted that fact instantly. You trained them to be capable of seeing what had to be done. And they did so, without question or hesitation. Only the elite of our elite could have done such a thing. It was a miracle of the highest honor and bravery. You need to trust their judgment, and accept that, in honor of them. I want you to see and admit that to yourself, when you reach a place where you can do so.”

  Saemar sniffed and wiped her red face, her nano make-up either rubbed off or smeared around in weird patches and patterns.

  She kissed Naero’s hand, and then rubbed it. She blinked and looked up at Naero and then around at the rest of them and smiled weakly.

  “Thanks, everyone. You are all my good friends–my sweeties. I’m…I’m sorry I lost it. I can’t really go nuts. You guys know. I’m pretty much already there.” She laughed a little.

  “Saemar,” Zhen asked, “You can still come to sickbay and we can stay with you. Are you going to be okay?”

  Saemar sighed heavily, getting serious. “No, none of us are going to be okay after this war, Z. We’ve all seen too much. We’ve all lost too much, and we’re going to lose even more, before everything is done. But we’ll find a way to salvage and save what we can, and make do. We’ll all find a way to live and love and be all right. Because we don’t have any choice in the matter. Because we’re Spacers, and that’s just what we do.”

  She got to her feet and stood up, wiping her face.

  She glanced back at her lovers and friends lying dead in those caskets all around her.

  She sighed and held out her hands. “I’m sorry guys. Seeing my mates all in here in the dark, all alone. Knowing I would never see any of them again in this life. It just broke me down like you wouldn’t believe. I thought I could take it. I had told myself that after losing Hikaru, nothing could ever hurt me like that again. I wouldn’t let it. But I was wrong. If you love people, even for a short time, losing them is still incredibly hard.”

  “These kind of things are obviously hard on all of us,” Chaela said. “And we should talk about them more often, amongst each other and our crews. Instead of letting them build up inside us until we can’t take it anymore. To tell you all the truth, I’ve come close to have a similar breakdown like yours Saemar. I just haven’t had severe losses like this to tip me over the brink yet, thank goodness.”

  “You’re right, Chae,” Naero said. “If all of us are hurting like this, the rest of our people must be dealing with the same feelings and issues. All of us struggle to be brave and ignore what’s going each day, until it turns toxic and festers inside of us, and builds to a breaking point. Eventually, something finally happens to set us off. We need to address these issues more and relieve some of this pressure, for everyone’s sake, before it gets this bad.”

  Saemar leaned against the wall, shaking hear head wearily.

  “Thanks again, sweeties. Gotta go somewhere now and get some rest. I haven’t slept well, for days. I think I can pass out now for a while. Just stick me anywhere with a bunk”

  Naero put her hands on her hips. “Saemar, you’re coming directly to my quarters. That’s an order. Anyone who wants to join us, I have plenty of room. I’ll have some food and drinks sent up.”

  Tyber’s face beamed. “Yay! Just like a sleepover when we were all kids and teens!”

  Naero smiled. She herself forgot sometimes how young they all still were.

  Chaela punched her wristcom. “I’m game. Just let me message Remy.”

  Zhen smirked and folded her arms in front of herself. “If Ty is going to spend the night with a bunch of pretty girls, I’d better be there to keep and eye on him.”

  “Awww, mom…”

  Chaela snorted. “Yeah…you don’t want him to come to, curled up with Saemar.”

  Most of them chuckled at that. Just not Zhen.

  “No need to worry,” Saemar assured them. “Ty and I settled that issue a long time ago, sweeties. He’s just not my type, that’s all.”

  Tyber looked hurt, confused, and indignant. “Settled what…when did we do what? I don’t remember any of this.”

  And for some strange reason, Zhen got mad.

  “Not your type? What do you mean, not your type? Anything with three legs is your type!”

  Saemar looked at them indignantly. “I know you all think that, but in my own way, I’m actually very choosy and particular.”

  “How so?” Chaela asked. “What, they have to be male and still breathing?”

  “And what’s that supposed to mean?” Tyber asked again, even more offended now than before.

  Naero chuckled and covered her face briefly with one hand. “Enough you, guys. Easy. We’re all tired and not a little rattled. Let’s just cut each other some slack and watch over Saemar tonight. And one thing more: Ty and Z, you two can sleep and snuggle together all you want–but no fooling around. Seriously. I’ve want to say this since we were all teens, and I finally can, now. Even when you two think you’re being quiet about it–trust us–we can still hear exactly what you two are doing. It’s awkward and embarrassing–for everyone.”

  Zhen turned bright red, but did not say a word.

  34

  Tarissa-1 resisted all attempts to crack its complex weave of heavily layered defenses.

  Twelve alliance fleets, including Naero’s Strike Fleet Six, formed up in four equal groups to probe and assail the extensive enemy battle lines.

  They sought out weaknesses.

  They tested strategies and tactics.

  When nothing worked, they shifted from one attack formation to the next.

  They tried several optimal attack vectors.

  Yet each time they wore the enemy down, the damaged enemy elements retreated behind their defensive screens of attack probes, drones, and AI seeker mines.

  And thus the tables were turned, and the Alliance fleets quickly found themselves being worn down.

  Ensign Nick Alexander called out from his Shields Station.

  “Captain. Hippolyta shields down to forty-seven percent. Fleet shields reduced on average of twenty-nine percent–most by half. Eleven vessels below twenty percent.”

  “Send those eleven ships to the fixer clouds. My orders. No arguments.”

  They kept fighting, but Naero began to see the futility of their current efforts.

  Captain Mike Marshall called in from The Condor.

  “Looks like we’re beating our heads against a duranadium hull, N. Are we going to keep doing so?”

  “No…we’ve got enough of a headache. All ships, withdraw to the Beta line and regroup. Surina, advise Admiral Maeris of our situation and advise same for the other three attack groups. None of this is working. We should pull back, before we lose someone for no good reason.”

  “On it, sir.”

  Naero sighed.

  “The enemy can keep this up all day long. At this rate, they can hold us off and bleed us dry–for weeks. We need to create, or discover a better way.”

  They sent all of the data feeds to Intel. Perhaps Admiral Klyne and his people could figure something out.

  She took a call from her aunt within that same hour.

  Naero saluted. “Admiral Maeris.”

  “At ease, Captain Maeris. Good work today. I wanted to pause for a moment and commend you.”

  Naero blinked and looked aside for a moment.

  “I’m…confused, sir. Our efforts today were completely futile. We accomplished nothing.”

  Her aunt smiled. “Of course the mission was a bust. What I’m referring to is you. You continue to progress and mature as a command officer.”

  Naero snorted a little. “How exact
ly did I do that? By failing miserably?”

  “We could all see what was happening. That was no one’s fault. Yet, I was curious as to how you would react.”

  Naero grinned. “And…apparently, I did well?”

  “You did in fact. You assessed the situation, and you retreated.”

  “Sir? I’ve never heard of anyone awarded a citation…for retreating.”

  “No, but you’ve seldom retreated on your own before, unless specifically ordered and forced to do so. Usually by then–in the past–you’ve already lost a few ships and the rest of your fleet is all beat to hell.”

  “Thank you, sir…I think.”

  “Admit it, captain. The old Naero would have beaten herself and her people bloody against defenses such as these, stubbornly trying to find or blast her way through at any price. You are a better, more balanced, and seasoned leader now. You’re not making all of those new leader mistakes any more. I just wanted to commend you on that fact. I’m proud of you. Your parents would be also.”

  “Mom once told me: ‘You can’t always win, and sometimes even the cost of victory is too high.’”

  “Exactly. You have grown both in experience and wisdom.”

  Naero smiled. “Thank you, sir. I understand now. I really appreciate that.”

  *

  The Alliance fleets actually recovered quickly from several coordinated enemy counter-attacks, and responded by making another serious feint toward Tarissa-1, to throw the enemy off.

  After the Triaxians swept all of their forces that way to head them off, the Alliance changed course abruptly, and drove straight on to encircle and capture the rest of the unpredictable Hevangian Homeworlds.

  Especially the Capital World of Valkeggoth-6.

  It took the Alliance three days of heavy fighting to destroy or chase off the Triaxian fleets in that region, and hold off the rest that tried to intervene.

  Two more days allowed them to set up a blockade of those same worlds, complete with salvaged mines, defense drones, and refitted, robotic gunships from Triax itself.

  The Alliance learned quickly from many harsh lessons. They knew better than to make any attempt to pacify any of the Hevangian worlds while in the middle of a war.

  Isolating and containing them proved difficult enough.

  The Alliance continued the process of constructing a complete blockade–and more–a containment sphere around Valkeggoth-6.

  Without warning, the entire planet ruptured from within its core and exploded violently.

  The Alliance ships attempted to flee the destruction.

  Over two dozen Alliance warships and their crews lost that race and perished, along with a population of nearly three billion Hevangians.

  From all reports, Intel was baffled by whatever bizarre tek the enemy had used to destroy their entire planet. The enemy’s insane methods and actions defied all logic and reason. There was simply no justification for such senseless death and destruction.

  Many in the Alliance felt that if the Hevangians were crazy enough to slaughter themselves rather than be set free of Triax—then so beit–let them do so.

  Any long term answers to the Hevangian question would be decided well after the main war ended. Until then, the rest of their worlds were isolated by the blockade and given an even wider berth.

  Naero’s strike fleet and the Alliance could now return full time to the prosecution of the primary war against Triax.

  Day by day, they blasted their way through the defenses swarming around Tarissa-1.

  Many of the so-called Triaxian fleets and crews were still those from the other fourteen Gigacorps. They just changed their outer markings and insignia and their designations to those of Triaxian fleets, but their tek varied, and even their leadership and tactics were different.

  They did not obey the Triaxians blindly.

  Nor did they allow themselves to be used a cannon fodder.

  But they remained competent foes, and resisted all efforts to get them to surrender and turn neutral.

  When the fighting got too hot, only then did the mercs attempt to jump out.

  Naero and her people had captured enough of these ships after battles to know very well that their vessels and their mercenary crews were not Triaxian.

  It did not matter what they claimed.

  And they gladly sued for mercy and surrender at the last need, while Triax maintained its policy of no prisoners. No mercy. No exceptions in the heat of battle for captured Alliance forces or vessels.

  Naero had Tyber and his fixers pour over the captured merc ships, one after another, searching for solid evidence. But they were clean.

  That was the problem–they were always too clean.

  No ship was that clean. No past histories or maintenance records? No ship’s logs? No direct proof that the ships were anything but Triaxian vessels. Not even military records of where their crews came from. None of it made any logical sense.

  Then Tyber and the teks discovered traces of a self-erasing aggressive virus in the computers of all of the captured enemy vessels.

  This was, in fact, a virus that erased and destroyed any incriminating traces of information that could prove that these enemy ships were in fact–illegal mercenaries–fighting for Triax. When they clearly originated directly from the other Corps navies.

  How very convenient for the Corps.

  Together, Naero’s teks worked with Spacer Intel to devise a counter-strategy. If they could expose the enemy ships and their true origins, Triax and the other Corps could be revealed to be caught in direct, flagrant, wholesale violations of the Fourth Spacer War Treaty.

  The same exact treaty that the enemy hid behind, and held up constantly, to keep the Alliance using only private military vessels and forces against them. While the most advanced Spacer Navy warships were effectively barred from the war.

  Once Intel developed a strategy, they only had to wait for the proper opportunity to put it into action.

  That day would come.

  Meanwhile, in honor of the fallen Admiral Sandusky, hundreds of liberated Triaxian worlds joined the Alliance wholesale.

  And as such, thousands of captured enemy vessels were refitted by fixer clouds, updated with the latest weapons and tek, and joined the fight against their former tyrants.

  Thus the Alliance increased its raw numbers by over a third.

  And where their crew rosters could not be filled completely from the new Alliance worlds, there were finally plenty of new leaders and crews coming out of the extensive training programs that Joshua Tech had implemented, from the very beginning.

  The Alliance led a bold, concentrated assault on Tarissa-1.

  At first the Alliance forces nearly had Tarissa-1 encircled and enveloped.

  Out of seemingly nowhere, enemy fleets flooded in from the final Triaxian stronghold Capital World of Najindo-9.

  Far more enemy fleets than any Intel estimates could ever imagine.

  The Alliance was forced to pull back and completely break off their attack on Tarissa-1. They fought a full-on, fighting retreat against overwhelming superior odds.

  The Alliance used every delaying and punishment tactic that they knew to slow the enemy advance.

  Many of these were the same, very effective punishing tactics that Triax had used against the Alliance advance.

  But now the tables were completely turned.

  Where had this sudden, massive influx on Triaxian fleets come from? And right when it appeared that Triax was on the ropes.

  Reeling, the Alliance forces struggled to maintain good order.

  They fled back through several pacified systems in a vain attempt to spread out the charging tide of waxing Triaxian numbers.

  But the enemy kept up their counter-attack, bolstered by those same raw numbers of countless fresh fleets that only continued to grow.

  The enemy threatened to roll back the entire front line of the war.

  The Alliance forces struggled to regroup, and conspired to ma
ke their stand around the critical forward starbase and Naval shipyards of DaVinci-5.

  29

  DaVinci-5 quickly deteriorated into another Triaxian death trap.

  Naero and the other strike fleet captains charged in against the Triaxian hordes repeatedly, inflicting heavy losses in wide arcs of destroying fire.

  But Triax merely absorbed those losses and kept advancing.

  Relentlessly advancing.

  The Alliance held for three hours of the heaviest fighting Naero had ever seen or endured, focused around the DaVinci-5 naval shipyards.

  Finally, under withering, blistering sheets of direct enemy fire, the shipyard was evacuated, abandoned to the enemy, and quickly destroyed after the Alliance forces fled.

  Once more, the battered Alliance fleets held the sphere of fire against all-comers, vanquishing fleet after enemy fleet. They called in all of their nearby reserves.

  They used all of their talent and skill–every trick they knew.

  They held off Triax’s overwhelming superior numbers for an entire day.

  That supreme effort gave the terrified civilian population of DaVinci-5 time to be evacuated in huge miner ore carriers that rushed in.

  Several hundred million.

  The brave miners and valiant pilots did the best they could and then some.

  Finally, the exhausted Alliance defenses began to crumble under the intense strain.

  They were forced to retreat again, or be completely swept away and vanquished.

  Aunt Sleak–Admiral Sleak Maeris took charge of the rout and led a masterful fighting retreat once more. Calm. Efficient. Even punishing.