The Slaver Wars: Alien Contact

by Raymond L. Weil

  -

  Amanda was in her quarters staring painfully at the wall. The wall held a picture of her parents and their home on Krall Island. She had just come from a briefing of the pilots that had returned from the other Federation worlds. Their reports had been alarming and overwhelming. The colony worlds of New Eden, Aldon, and Aquaria had been devastated. The shipyard above Aquaria had been destroyed, and the planet had been heavily nuked.

  She had seen the pictures of the capital city of Nervana and had sat in shock, realizing what this meant. Aquaria was gone, and her parents, even if they had survived the initial attack, were probably already dead from radiation poisoning. She knew with a heavy heart that she would never go scuba diving with her father at Heritage Reef again. All she would have now were the memories. Everything seemed so unreal to her. She knew that she was in shock and was having a hard time accepting that her parents and everyone she had known on Aquaria were gone.

  Richard had gone on to say again in the meeting that he thought the Hocklyns had spared the shipyard above New Providence because they wanted to use it as a base. They had tried repeatedly to land boarding parties in an attempt to capture it intact. Admiral Streth had agreed with that assumption. As soon as the shipyard was evacuated, the admiral intended to destroy it to prevent the Hocklyns from ever using it for anything.

  Before they had left the Command Center, the admiral had spoken briefly with General Allister. Amanda hoped the general would be able to survive without support from the fleet. The general planned on closing up all the bunkers and staying quiet for six months or more in the hope that the Hocklyns would go ahead and leave New Providence. If they did, he would open up several of the bunkers and begin the search for more survivors. During those six months, he planned on doing everything in his power to expand the current bunker system. They had plenty of power and had set up some hydroponic gardens inside the bunkers already. For many years, the only safe place on New Providence might be inside the bunker system out of sight from the Hocklyns.

  Amanda shook her head. She didn’t know what it would be like to live underground for such a long period of time. However, humans were adaptable and they would do what was necessary to survive. Leaning back, she took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. There would be a lot of unknowns facing the fleet in the coming days. She had to regain control of her emotions because the admiral would need her. The fleet would need her!

  For several hours, Amanda rested. Richard was over on the Harrington working in the Command Center. He had done extremely well in defending the shipyard and was quite familiar with flight operations. For now, he was third in the chain of command on board the carrier. Amanda wished he had been able to stay on board the StarStrike, but she understood his need to be part of this war.

  Her com unit going off signaled Amanda that it was time for her to return to the Command Center. The fleet would be making its jump in a few minutes to the fleet depot. Hopefully it was still intact and they could top the fleet off with fuel and supplies. The fleet had built two of these distant supply depots for use in an emergency in case a fleet couldn’t get back to one of the shipyards to resupply. The depots were supposed to contain everything a fleet might need in a crisis situation.

  Returning to the Command Center, she took her position at the plotting table. She had managed to regain her composure and was ready to resume her duties. “Fleet is ready to jump,” she informed the admiral as she listened to the status reports of the different stations over her mini-com.

  “Very well,” replied Admiral Streth, looking over at Colonel Sheen. He nodded to himself. She seemed to have herself back under control. The colonel hadn’t been the only one to break down in the last few hours. The admiral hadn’t said anything, but there had already been two suicides on board the StarStrike. “Execute the jump and let’s see what we have.” Then over his own mini-com, which was now connected to all the ships in the fleet he added. “All ships go to Condition One upon emergence from the spatial vortex. Commander Adler, I want a full squadron of Talons launched as soon as your systems stabilize.”

  “Yes, sir,” Adler replied over the com. “Captain Arcles will be ready to launch with a full squadron. Gold squadron is already standing by.”

  Satisfied that everything was as ready as possible, he looked over at Colonel Sheen. “Jump the fleet, Amanda; let’s go get us some supplies.”

  Even as he spoke the words, a massive nuclear explosion lit up the Federation shipyard they had just left. In just a few moments, all that remained was shattered and broken wreckage.

  Admiral Streth watched the destruction on the main viewscreen with a pained look in his eyes. It was hard to destroy something the Federation had spent years building. But he would be damned if he would leave it for the Hocklyns. Looking at another viewscreen, he saw the blue-white jump vortexes form in front of the fleet.

  The two fleet destroyers flew into them first, followed by the carrier Victory. A full minute later, the rest of the ships entered the blue-white vortexes and vanished. The fleet had left the New Providence system and would not be returning.

  -

  Down on the surface of New Providence, General Allister watched the main sensor screen in the command bunker as the friendly green icons that represented the last warships of the Human Federation of Worlds vanished. The protectors on the surface had been nearly wiped out when the Talon fighters and Anlon bombers from the bunkers had launched their attacks. A number of special marine units were still engaged in mopping up the few remaining Hocklyn protectors that had managed to escape the bombings. Organized fighting had died down after the heavy assaults from the Anlon bombers. All fighting should be ending within the next few hours. With a heavy sigh, he turned toward Major Jessup.

  “We’re on our own now, Kenri. Order all the bunkers to start closing up. All communication from now on will be done over the underground land lines. I want a total communications blackout on the airwaves. I want the Hocklyns to think that their ground offensive succeeded. Perhaps after a while they will leave and we can venture out to search for more survivors.”

  “I don’t think we will find many,” Major Jessup replied with a sad look on his face. “The last few marine units to report in are finding very few survivors around the cities. I think the only survivors left are those we managed to get to the mountains. Those are being sent down into the cave systems even as we speak. In another few hours, there won’t be a human left upon the surface. Even our marine units are going inside the caves.”

  “Let’s just hope this works,” General Allister spoke, with a grim and determined look upon his face. “If the Hocklyns stick around, it may be necessary to live underground from now on. Inform all units that all search and rescue operations are to cease in six more hours or upon receiving word from us.” He glanced at the main sensor screen. They would have a few hours of warning if the Hocklyns showed back up. That would give them time to make sure all the marines were safely out of sight.

  “I hope we can someday return to the surface,” Major Jessup responded, not wanting to imagine what it would be like to have to live underground from now on.

  “So do I,” General Allister said his eyes narrowing. “But we will do whatever it takes to survive.”

  -

  Amanda waited nervously for the StarStrike to exit the jump. She glanced down at the timer on the plotting table and saw that it would be another six minutes before they emerged from the spatial vortex. Looking up at the main viewscreen, she could see the myriads of dark colors dominated by purple that seemed to swirl in hyperspace. She turned her eyes away from the screen. It could be very hypnotic watching the screen for too long. There was a slim possibility that, upon emergence, they might be going immediately into battle.

  Admiral Streth waited patiently for the StarStrike to complete her jump. He had decided to jump to the farthest of the two supply depots as an added safety precaution. Once the fleet was fully supplied, he would then take one of the stealth
scouts and jump to the home system. He would transmit the coded signal to the hidden communication satellite and wait to see what happened. He had no idea what to expect. Admiral Kinseth had never elaborated.

  “Coming out of jump shortly,” Colonel Sheen reported as she watched the jump timer. It was nearing zero, and she unconsciously drew in a deep breath.

  Admiral Streth braced his hands against the command console. It was a habit he had acquired over the years. Going into and coming out of hyperspace always made his stomach feel queasy for a few seconds. He suddenly felt a slight wrenching sensation and then the familiar queasiness. At the same instant, stars reappeared on the main viewscreen.

  “Status!” he barked as the battle cruiser’s systems all came quickly back on line.

  “Sensor contacts,” Lieutenant Stalls called out, leaning forward and gazing intently at his screens. “I have the supply depot and sixteen unidentified contacts around it. Scanners are attempting to identify the size and class of ships.”

  “Spin up missiles and prepare to engage,” Colonel Sheen ordered Tactical over her mini-com. “Prepare to fire lasers upon my command. All railgun batteries prepare to fire.” She steadied herself. It looked as if they would have to make a fight of it after all. They needed the supplies on that depot.

  “Sir!” Lieutenant Trask spoke hastily. “I am getting a com message from the cruiser SwiftFire!”

  “The SwiftFire?” Colonel Sheen echoed in surprise her eyes growing wide. “That’s a Monarch heavy cruiser. What’s it doing out here?”

  “All ships, hold your fire!” Admiral Streth ordered over his mini-com, gazing intently at the main sensor screen above the plotting table. They were still ten thousand kilometers from the depot, but they were closing fast.

  Switching his mini-com to ship-to-ship, he attempted to contact the cruiser. He hoped it really was a Monarch heavy cruiser. Its firepower would be a great addition to the fleet. “Cruiser SwiftFire, this is Admiral Streth aboard the battle cruiser StarStrike. Please transmit your ID codes or you will be fired upon. We were not aware of any other surviving ships.”

  “Sir, I’m pickup up another light cruiser and four destroyers, and what appears to be twelve large passenger liners,” Stalls spoke quickly as the icons on his screen all turned a friendly green.

  “Receiving ID codes,” Lieutenant Trask reported. “Computer confirms their authentication.”

  “This is Commander Largo,” a relieved voice answered over the com. “We thought we were the only surviving ships. The SwiftFire and the light cruiser Mace were on the way to Aldon when word of the attack reached us. Admiral Kinseth ordered us to come here and wait. He also diverted all of these passenger liners to us. The four destroyers were called in from deep picket. We had hoped more would show up, but so far there have been no others until your fleet appeared.”

  “How are the supplies on the station, Commander?” Hedon asked. He was immensely pleased to have found more civilian survivors, as well as fleet ships. This would come pretty close to bringing First Fleet back up to full strength. “I want to fully provision and rearm this fleet. Also, do you know how many Talons are in storage in the depot?”

  “There are plenty of supplies still on the station, Admiral,” Largo replied quickly. “I’m not sure how many Talons there are. I can check with the depot’s commanding officer if you want.”

  “That won’t be necessary, Commander,” Hedon replied. “My fleet will be taking up a defensive position around the depot and then I will be going over myself to see what is on board. I intend to strip it of everything useful.”

  “Then what, Admiral?” asked Largo sounding uneasy. He hoped the admiral wasn’t contemplating attacking the Hocklyns. “Where can we go? The Federation worlds have been lost to us.”

  “We’re leaving Federation space,” Hedon responded crisply. “I have one small mission I need to complete and then we’re leaving the Federation behind.”

  There was silence from the com and then finally Commander Largo responded. “I think that’s wise, sir. We have been talking about doing the same thing.”

  -

  Admiral Streth was sitting across from Commander Largo and Captain Jenson aboard the supply depot. The supply depot was a full kilometer across and three hundred meters thick. It was armed with twenty-four point defense batteries and four Shrike missile pods. It also had a full squadron of Talons for additional defense.

  Commander Largo and Captain Jenson both looked extremely pale. Admiral Streth had just explained to them what had happened to all the Federation worlds and about the AI ships. It had been hard for them to hear that the Federation was gone. Even though they had already suspected such, they had hoped that the Hocklyns had just occupied the Federation worlds and not destroyed them.

  “I sent the battle carrier Harrington and the light cruisers Vindication and Avenger to the other supply depot,” Hedon informed them. “There might be other survivors there, and I also want as many of their supplies as possible, particularly their Talon fighters.”

  “They should have eighty, Admiral,” Jenson spoke. “Their crew is the same size as ours; a little over three hundred. We were going to send a destroyer to evacuate them when we were ready to leave.”

  “Where are we going, Admiral?” asked Largo leaning forward, his eyes full of curiosity. “If what you say about the Hocklyns and these AIs is true, we will have to go a long ways out toward the edge of the galaxy to be safe.”

  “We’re talking about a journey of thousands of light years,” breathed Jenson, his face turning pale. “Can our ships do that?”

  “They will have to,” Hedon replied gravely. “That’s why we want as many supplies and spare parts as possible. We can machine some parts on the StarStrike and the two battle carriers if necessary, but there are some parts we can’t hope to make. Those we have to take with us.”

  “We have ample munitions, including the new Hunter and Devastator missiles,” reported Jenson, thinking about all the supplies and munitions that were stored on board the depot. “We have plenty of food and water for the ships, so that shouldn’t be a problem. We also have a full load of fuel.”

  “Let’s start getting everything loaded,” ordered Hedon, standing up. “I want every ship loaded to the maximum. If we have to put supplies and spare parts in the corridors, we will do so. We can’t be out in deep space and realize we left something behind. I also want a count as to how many civilians are on those passenger liners.”

  -

  Aboard the light cruiser Avenger, Commander Standel watched the swirling colors of hyperspace on one of the smaller viewscreens. In another twenty minutes, they would reach the other supply depot. After what had been waiting at the previous one, he didn’t know what to expect when they arrived.

  “We will have a long journey ahead of us once we leave Federation space,” Ariel spoke, her dark eyes focusing on the commander. “With the information Clarissa and I have recovered from the Hocklyn computer drives and their star maps, we can now project how long the Hocklyns and the other three warrior races will take to conquer the entire galaxy.”

  Ariel vanished, and a map of the galaxy appeared on the large viewscreen. It showed the four regions currently controlled by the four warrior races the AIs had chosen to grow their empire. The four regions slowly expanded and over the coming centuries reached the far edge of the galaxy. Every star system was under the control of the AIs and their slave empire.

  “Is there nowhere safe we can go?” Standel asked as he realized that, at some point in time, the Hocklyns would find them again.

  “No,” replied Ariel reappearing on the main screen. She tossed her head slightly causing her black hair to ripple across her shoulders. “Our ships are not capable of attempting an intergalactic flight. Even with cryo-sleep, we wouldn’t make it. It would take hundreds of years just to reach one of the two nearer satellite galaxies. The ships would run out of power and too many key systems would fail.”

  “Then
what are we to do?” Standel asked slowly. It sounded hopeless. He noticed that the entire Command Center crew was listening. “There has to be an answer.”

  “We go out to the very edge of our galaxy and grow our population. We know the Hocklyns are coming someday, so we prepare for them. We find and fortify a system to the point that the Hocklyns can’t take it.”

  “We restrict ourselves to one star system,” Major Winfred spoke, not liking that idea at all. “That doesn’t leave a lot of room to grow. The fortifications to hold back the Hocklyns and these AIs will have to be massive. I don’t know if it’s even feasible.”

  Teena and Jacen looked at each other. If they did take the fleet out to the edge of the galaxy, at least they would be safe for the rest of their lifetimes. It might even give them the time to build a life together.

  “What do you think?” Teena asked in a low voice over her mini-com on their private channel.

  “I don’t think we have any other choice,” Jacen responded as he ran some quick calculations on his computer. “It will take us six months to a year to go out that far, depending on the number of jumps per day the admiral will want to do.”

  “But we will be safe from the Hocklyns for years, perhaps centuries,” Teena replied with a glint of hope in her eyes.

  “Yes,” Jacen responded with a slight nod of his head. “But someday our descendants will have to face the Hocklyns again. I just hope that they will be ready.”

  -

  A few minutes later, the small fleet exited their jump vortexes and instantly went to Condition One.

  “I am picking up three contacts around the depot,” Ariel reported before Lieutenant Barnes could speak.

  “I have another destroyer and what appears to be two passenger liners,” Jacen said frowning at Ariel. Sometimes the AI jumped in before the crew of the Command Center could do their jobs.

  “The Harrington is contacting the destroyer,” Teena reported as she heard the com chatter between the two ships. “It’s the destroyer Ranger, and they have two liners with them with a little over 2,500 passengers.”