Steven Gordon 3: The Modloch Empire

by J W Murison

  There was a mad dash for the life pods. He was a little slower than the youngsters that worked for him and three life pods had already taken off by the time he reached them. His second in command was waiting by the fourth. ‘You made it you old shit. Was beginning to think I was in for a promotion. What the hell is going on?’

  ‘You don’t know?’

  ‘I was fast asleep.’

  ‘You mean you slept through all those explosions?’

  ‘What explosions? It was the evacuation alarm that woke me.’

  ‘Let’s go, I will explain on the way out of this shithole.’

  There were a dozen others on board, including an Albany. The Chief paused. ‘You are very lucky to be alive.’ He pushed past and squeezed into the pilot’s seat, his second in command took the seat next to him. ‘Launch sequence. Initiate.’

  ‘Initialising, sir. All ready to go.’

  ‘Let’s get out of here.’ He pushed the intercom. ‘I hope you are all buckled in. Launching now.’

  They were thrown back against their seats as the life pod launched. The space around them was full of burning debris.

  An unfamiliar female voice sang in their ears. ‘All escape pods please lay in a course of 18022345E and you will be escorted out of the combat area.’

  His second in command eyed him enquiringly. ‘Just do it. Put up the rear view as well while you are at it.’

  His second complied. ‘Going to tell me what is going on?’

  ‘That’s a Human fleet.’

  ‘SHIT! You mean they discovered what is going on?’

  ‘They certainly have.’

  ‘Heads will roll for this one.’

  ‘Not ours. We are just contractors.’

  ‘That may well be.’ He pointed to the rear view screen. The last of the Human troops were now clear of the facility and the battleships moved in to finish it off. ‘Looks like we are going to be out of work for a while.’

  Space was lit up by a kaleidoscope of different coloured lights as the Human battleships concentrated their firepower onto the huge platform. It blew spectacularly. White hot metal was cooled instantly by the absolute cold of space and shattered into lethal shards that spun off in every direction. Most of it would end up being pulled into the asteroid belt.

  The Chief Engineer smiled. ‘So the government will have to provide us with a brand new one. We will also be home in time for the mating season.’

  His companion thought it over. ‘Will the company still pay our wages?’

  A battlecruiser and its escort slid in behind them. Their shields lit up in small bursts as debris from the platform struck.

  ‘They have no option, we are on contract.’

  The companion smiled and looked out the window at a big battlecruiser as it slid past. ‘That’s a Modloch ship.’

  ‘No, it’s Human. The dimensions are slightly smaller than a Modloch but it is based on the Modloch design.’

  ‘Do you think they will let us live?’

  ‘They killed all the Albany and let us live. That lot behind us are shielding us from debris. I think we are going to be all right.’

  ‘But the Humans are meat-eaters, aren’t you worried?’

  The Chief shook his head. ‘Right now I’m more worried about what the Albany are going to do than the Humans. Besides, I hear most of them eat fruit and vegetables.’

  ‘They are omnivorous then.’

  ‘So I heard.’

  ‘Uh! Fancy living on a diet of fruit and vegetables and not grass. You would have to be a billionaire to do that. Not good for you either, I hear.’

  The Chief gave him a doleful look. ‘I think you hear too much. Let’s just concentrate on getting out of here alive.’

  The Humans shadowed the survivors until their mission was complete. When the Humans left, they were able to get in touch with their company and let them know what was happening.

  CHAPTER 47

  Baxter had the Catatarac battle fleet boxed in. As the Humans arrived they fired warning shots through the fleet. Someone on the other side quickly got the message, and ships that were charging their weapons suddenly stopped.

  ‘Sir, we are being hailed.’ An operator called.

  ‘Put it on screen.’

  An ugly creature appeared. ‘Identify yourselves. No wait. Don’t bother. You are Admiral Baxter, a Human, are you not?’

  Baxter was impressed and said so. ‘I am impressed that you know me. I am afraid you have me at a disadvantage.’

  The creature seemed to smile. ‘You really don’t know the names and faces of your potential enemies? Maybe you are not as good as I have heard.’

  ‘The whole damn galaxy is our potential enemy. Would you have me remember the names of all its senior commanders?’

  ‘On that, you may well have a valid point. I am Admiral Valachean of the great Catatarac fleet. I don’t suppose there is any point in feigning outrage or even lying about what we are doing here. But why are we still alive? You outnumber us, and outgun us.’

  ‘As yet our planets are not at war.’

  ‘The moment one of those asteroids smash into your home world we will be.’

  ‘That is true. However, I can assure you we have enough forces and assets off world to reciprocate. We also know exactly who is involved in this little plot, and why.’

  ‘I see. You would target our home world?’

  ‘Every world you and your allies possess.’

  An ugly hand scratched an ugly face. ‘Then you leave me with little choice but to withdraw all of my forces involved with this operation. Will you allow us to withdraw?’

  ‘In a short while.’

  ‘I see. So you are assaulting the other sites as well.’

  ‘We most certainly are.’

  ‘The Ranagata!’

  ‘Will be given the same options as you.’

  ‘How about the Albany?’

  ‘Not a chance.’

  ‘You will kill them all?’

  ‘If we have the time.’

  ‘You would do well not to shoot their escape pods Admiral. There are severe penalties attached to such crimes in our part of the galaxy.’

  ‘We are aware of that. For your personal information, we didn’t shoot any of their escape pods in our part of the galaxy either. We rescued everyone we found after each battle.’

  ‘Not that it did them much good.’

  Baxter conceded the point. ‘That is true. Most perished within a short period of time, due to the effects of our sun.’

  ‘I have to say that you are a fascinating race. Even if you do look a little strange.’

  ‘I personally think you look piss pot ugly.’ It was out of his mouth before he could stop it and Baxter hoped that the words would not translate.

  They did, only too well. Valachean suddenly burst out laughing. ‘You know Admiral, I was once voted the ugliest male on my planet, and the least desirable. Yet I have one of the most beautiful women on my planet as my mate. She was a fashion model. Do you know what that is?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘You understand it was my rank and standing in life that attracted her to me, not my looks. I am envied by many. Now I have six children. A little extravagant I know, but I do love them. Three of each. The girls have taken the beauty of their mother while the boys are almost as ugly as I am.’

  Baxter looked round and quickly scanned the screens locally. Valachean noticed. ‘Relax Admiral, I am not trying to distract you. I am simply passing the time with small talk. You are jamming all our communications, after all.’

  Baxter snapped his attention back to his adversary. ‘You must be a formidable foe.’

  ‘I normally am. This time though you have caught me flat-footed. It will never happen again, believe me.’

  ‘I do. I would also like to apologise for my remark. It was unkind and unwarranted.’

  ‘It may have been unkind, but it was not unwarranted. I am, after all, extremely ugly. Even to those of my own rac
e. Have you got a family?’

  ‘No, I never really found the time.’

  ‘Married to the service.’

  ‘I suppose you could say that.’

  ‘We have a saying: those who give their life, love and soul to whatever service they choose in life, are often the most formidable in battle.’

  ‘I have often thought that there are far too many sayings flying about.’

  Valachean laughed. ‘You and me both Admiral. I will say that I have to admire your intelligence services.’

  ‘Doing a little fishing are we, Admiral Valachean?’

  It took a moment for Valachean to understand the remark and he laughed. ‘Yes, I suppose I am.’

  ‘Our intelligence was third party.’

  ‘You trusted it.’

  ‘Obviously. Just as well, too.’

  ‘Indeed.’

  Baxter was curious, ‘May I ask how you and the Albany planned to take over our planet? After all, hitting it with an asteroid at faster than light speed would damn near obliterate it.’

  ‘Not quite Admiral. It would vaporise on hitting your planet, and the shock waves would obviously smash the mantle. Everything living on it would die in an instant. Yet planets are extremely resilient. We would leave it for a few years until the volcanic activity settled a bit, then we would simply terraform it. We have technology that would stop volcanic activity and repair the mantle. We would inject elements into the atmosphere that would settle the volcanic ash. From there we would remove any toxic gases from the atmosphere. Once that was completed and the planet settled we would plant oxygen-giving trees and then seed it with whatever grass we wanted. In a little under ten years it would be producing high yields.’

  Baxter was shaking his head, ‘I find it hard to believe that any intelligent species would terminate every species on a planet as full of life as Earth is, just to grow grass for profit.’

  ‘Oh, you had better believe it Admiral Baxter. I admit, this would have been my first time. Yet those who came before me did it many times. Especially if the dominant species is a meat eating one.’ He leaned forward. ‘But please don’t take that to heart. They have also done it to other herbivores, if they were considered to be backward.’

  ‘You mean not technologically evolved enough to defend themselves?’

  ‘That is exactly what I mean.’

  ‘Have your people ever considered birth control to manage the population of your people so that they do not run out of food?’

  ‘Absolutely not. What a disgusting idea. Do Humans practice birth control?’

  ‘Yes we do.’

  Valachean held up an ugly finger. ‘Of course, your race does not have a mating season. You just do it whenever you feel like it. Do you also have multiple partners?’

  ‘Some do. Some mate for life. Others change partners if they discover they can no longer life with a person.’

  ‘Ah yes, divorce. It is rare amongst my people. Yet it can happen. Tell me, do you really protect all those different species that inhabit your world?’

  ‘It is what we are doing now.’

  Valachean leaned towards the screen as if to try and look into Baxter’s eyes, ‘The amazing thing is, you don’t seem like you are lying.’

  ‘I can assure you I am not.’

  ‘Maybe your species will bring a new enlightenment to the galaxy. If you survive.’

  ‘You had better hope that we do.’

  ‘If your planet falls do you think that the Modloch Emperor will still protect you? There is an unwritten rule in the galaxy, Admiral Baxter. A species without a home world is no longer a species of worth. Your people will be hunted down for the sake of sport. They will then be sold to the highest bidder to make serum from so that they can exploit your solar system.’

  ‘If that day comes then your species, the Albany and the Ranagata will all be rowing in the same boat as we are.’

  ‘Admiral, we have defences against such things. You may well be able to destroy one or two of our colonised planets, but never our home world.’

  ‘Do you really think that you can withstand the force of a hundred thousand asteroids?’

  ‘You jest. No one has those kinds of resources.’

  ‘We do. I invite you to scan my flagship. Check the materials it is made from.’

  Valachean barely hesitated. Alarms went off behind Baxter as they scanned his ship. He ignored them. Valachean was handed a tablet and he quickly scanned it.

  ‘So you have a design spec flagship. I am impressed, but it is not unusual. Most fleets have at least one for their commander’s flagship.’

  ‘This isn’t my real flagship. I simply transferred my flag for this operation.’

  ‘I see, so you have more than one. So what?’

  ‘Scan my whole force.’

  Valachean was getting annoyed and barked out an order. A few minutes later he was handed another tablet. You could easily see the shock on his face.

  He leaned over the tablet. ‘Your whole force is design spec!’

  ‘No. Every vessel in every one of my fleets are design spec. That includes our freighters.’

  Valachean was in shock, ‘No one goes to that expense, no one can afford it. Designers are notorious for designing a vessel to be the best it could possibly be. What is produced is a compromise between cost, materials and what the ship is designed to be used for.’

  Baxter shook his head. ‘We use Builder technology in every step of construction. The process is completely automated. All we have to do is select the type of ship required and our shipyards spit them out. It doesn’t cost us a penny.’

  Valachean was beginning to get annoyed, ‘This is a joke.’

  ‘I don’t make jokes. I have never been very funny either. If you don’t believe me, step aboard. I will give you proof.’

  Valachean thought it over. ‘We are not at war, correct?’

  ‘Not yet no. You will be treated as befitting your rank, and as a guest.’

  ‘I will see you soon.’

  The screen went blank and Valachean screamed for his shuttle to be prepared. Despite protests from his captains and staff, within ten minutes his shuttle had launched from his flagship.

  Baxter was waiting for him. Valachean winced as he was piped on board. A hastily formed honour guard presented arms.

  Despite being ugly, Valachean was well formed in height and limb. He hesitated beside one of the guards, his eyes sweeping over the man and his weapons. ‘What is that?’ He pointed.

  ‘That is a bayonet. You could describe it as a weapon of last resorts. We did consider doing away with them, however the rank and file objected most vocally. They are rather fond of them.’

  ‘I can tell by the smirks on their faces. Shall we proceeded, Admiral.’

  ‘This way please.’

  Baxter took him to his quarters and into his sitting room. Valachean wasn’t as large as a Modloch and managed to wriggle into a comfortable chair. Baxter joined him and kicked back.

  ‘That looks extremely comfortable.’

  ‘Just lean back. This isn’t a formal meeting. Relax. Would you like some refreshments?’

  ‘You have food that I can consume?’

  ‘We have no grass, but plenty of fruit and vegetables that are consumable by most races. We also have various teas and soft drinks that I know you can consume.’

  Baxter nodded to his steward, who was hovering close by; the man dashed off. They had entertained many aliens together and the man knew exactly what to do. Baxter picked up the remote control and switched the large television on. He selected a program from a list.

  ‘This a program on our ship building. Enjoy.’

  The two admirals kicked back and watched the program while picking at snacks. When it was finished Valachean asked a few questions, which made Baxter pick another video. Valachean had to contact his ship to tell them he was OK. When that was finished Valachean sat in quiet contemplation.

  ‘You realise, of course, that you
have given quite a substantial amount of information away to a potential enemy.’

  ‘Not really. You don’t have the coordinates of any of our assets. To do so, you would have to reconnoitre our solar system. The Albany are intimately aware of the Earth and have studied it in great detail, but not the rest of our solar system. To be frank, you do not have the resources to do much about it.’

  ‘Now I see the scale of the problem. I have to agree. I also see now why the Albany desire your solar system so badly. To be honest, what they are promising for our aid is nothing compared to the riches your solar system contains.’

  ‘More to the point, we could quite easily throw a hundred thousand asteroids at your home planet.’

  ‘I suppose you could. For myself, I am going to return home and have a very long talk to our glorious king. He really needs to be put in the picture.’

  ‘Your King was given a gift that should have put him in the picture a long time ago.’

  ‘I will ask him about it.’

  ‘You may wish to return to your ship now. You may also withdraw your fleet. Our operation is complete.’

  ‘You will destroy these asteroids?’

  ‘As soon as you are out of range we will pulverize them to dust.’

  Valachean hesitated for a moment. ‘You don’t have any more of those snacks do you? Maybe one or two of those root beers?’

  Baxter looked round, ‘Martin!’

  His steward stepped forward. ‘I had a hamper prepared for the Admiral sir. It is with his men. It includes two six packs of root beer.’

  ‘Thank you Martin.’

  ‘Sir.’

  Baxter accompanied Valachean to his shuttle. The two saluted in their own way. On board the shuttle, Valachean ran his hand over the hamper. ‘I wonder what material this is. Did you sweep it for devices?’

  ‘Yes sir. It is clean.’ The commander of his escort answered.

  ‘Then let’s get back to the ship.’ He sat down and the shuttle disengaged.

  Within a few minutes the enemy fleet had jumped away and Baxter ordered the redeployment of his units, as well as the destruction of the asteroids.