Exodus: Empires at War: Book 06 - The Day of Battle

by Doug Dandridge

  Sean, keeping a grip on her arms, turned to look at his Secret Service Agent in Charge, waiting up the hallway. “Tell my officers that I will not be attending tonight’s meeting. They can inform me of what recommendations they have on the morrow. I am not to be disturbed tonight, unless something comes up that only I can decide.”

  “Yes, your Majesty,” said the smiling woman, closing her eyes to make a link.

  “Now,” he said, looking back at Jennifer. “I need to spend the night with the love of my life.”

  Jennifer felt the love swell within her, looking into the face of the man she was to marry.

  “I am so sorry I have ignored you,” he said, leading her by the hand to the lift. “I am so sorry. I will make it up to you tonight, and in the future.”

  * * *

  UNICORPORATED SPACE, OCTOBER 10TH, 1001.

  “Pinafore is signaling that they are picking up hyper VII emissions,” called out the com tech on duty on the bridge of the NTRS Orleans. Commodore Natasha Romanov, commander of the picket force of one light cruiser and five destroyers, awoke in her cabin, wondering what was coming their way. Something they could take out, or something they would be forced to watch as it went by?

  “What do they have?” she asked, getting up from her bunk and pulling on the uniform coverall she had thrown over a chair before laying on her comfortable bed. She checked her implant, happy to see that she had gotten a good six hours of rest. But then, it’s always either the tension of tracking a Caca force, or the many days of nothing between.

  “They can’t tell for sure, ma’am. It’s just entering their detection range. But from the information we’re getting over the wormhole com, it seems to be a considerable force. They’ve tracked over a score of ships, with more entering range every couple of seconds.”

  “I’ll be right up,” said the Commodore, pulling on her boots, then making sure that her short hair was not in disarray. As the flag officer in charge of this picket, she felt it behooved her to make sure she looked alert at all times, even when she didn’t feel it.

  It took a little under a minute to get to the bridge, monitoring the situation on her implant the entire way. The number had grown to over forty in that time. She thought that in the future it might be a better idea to sleep in her day cabin, but her main quarters were much more comfortable, and it was rare that anything came along that required fast action.

  The tactical holo was alive with arrows when she walked on the bridge. It didn’t take long to see that this group was not on a path that would take them into the Empire. Instead…“They’re heading into Republic Space.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” said the com tech, who was filling in for the off duty officer who was the primary for that station.

  As an alert had not been called, the primary was still off duty, resting, and Romanov saw no reason to disturb her at this time. The situation was unlikely to lead to combat, and the current tech could deliver the bad news to the Central Command of the New Terran Republic just as well.

  It was now more than obvious that the enemy ships were heading into the Republic, which was already having a rough time battling against the Cacas they already had in place, and, of course, their Klang allies.

  “Over a hundred ships so far, ma’am,” announced the Tactical Officer, who had been the acting commander while the Commodore was asleep.

  “Command is acknowledging our transmission, ma’am,” said the Com Tech, looking back at Romanov. “They are asking us to continue monitoring the situation, and to report any further developments.”

  Like we would do anything else, thought the Commodore. Of course, what else could they say. They must be shitting kittens about now.

  They continued monitoring the passage of the enemy force for the next hour, with the count growing to over four hundred ships, a quarter of them capitals. There was a break of about an hour, then more ships entered the scanner range of the destroyer Pinafore. This group took about a half an hour to transit into the range of the forward destroyer. Another three hundred ships, forty of them capitals, and over a hundred what seemed to be logistical ships, freighters, tankers and troop transports. And then, nothing. But the enemy force assaulting the Republic had just grown by twenty percent. And the Republic didn’t have the additional naval force to match them.

  * * *

  XENIA, NEW TERRAN REPUBLIC, OCTOBER 15TH, 1001.

  “We have communicated with our government,” said the officer who had been designated as Admiral Commanding Crakista Force One. Now there was a new logo below the reptilian on the holo, Admiral Commanding Crakista Expeditionary Force One.

  So, she was promoted for winning this action, thought President Graham, nodding her head. A logical choice, since she had proven herself as a battle commander. “And of what have they informed you, Admiral?”

  “My command is to be reinforced with two hundred capital ships and seven hundred supporting vessels,” said the Admiral, her face betraying no emotion. No triumph, no elation, no fear.

  The president felt triumph, and she let it fill her. The Empire had just informed her that she would be receiving reinforcements from them as well. Six hundred old ships, two hundred of them battleships, that had been refurbished with modern technology and prepared for service. They would come with skeleton crews to move them through the wormhole gate. The requirement then would be for Republic crews to man them. And that she had no shortage of, with all the reservists called up.

  “Thank you for letting me know, Admiral,” said the President, bowing toward the holo. “We much appreciate the help of your people.”

  “We cannot afford to allow those you fight to gain dominance in this region. It was the only logical decision.”

  “Still, we are grateful. I am grateful. Without your help this would be an unwinnable fight for my government.”

  “I take your offer of gratitude in the spirit in which it is offered. While my own people eschew emotions, we have many within our political region who are emotional beings. We have had to learn to deal with them on their own mental grounds.”

  Graham nodded. She had studied everything her people knew about the Crakista when she had heard they were joining the fight. They were not totally devoid of emotion, despite their protestations to the contrary. There were two score other species in their empire, and according to all she could discover they were all treated fairly, by a compassionate race who believed in freedom for all sentient beings, no matter their physical or emotional makeup.

  For the first time in days the President felt good about her Republic’s chances. Maybe they still weren’t great chances, but they included a possibility of a win.

  * * *

  ELYSIUM SPACE. OCTOBER 17TH, 1001.

  Archduke Horatio Alexanderopolis, His Imperial Majesty’s Ambassador to the Court of the Elysium Empire, relaxed in the seat of the Brakakak shuttle as it climbed above the atmosphere and headed for the ship that was its target. His Naval Attaché’, Commodore Danielle Corso, sat in the seat next to his, arrayed in her best dress uniform. Before them was a big holo screen centered on the ship they were heading for, a large battleship, a flagship of the Elysium Fleet. Behind it, shrunk by the distance, were a large number of other vessels of various classes.

  “That is one beautiful sight,” said the Commodore, gesturing toward the screen.

  The Ambassador nodded his head. To his eye the Elysium ship looked somewhat, wrong. It was narrower than a human battleship, and longer, and somehow more graceful in appearance. It lacked external extrusions that could be easily damaged, just like all capital ships. Form followed function, and capital ships were by necessity massive vessels, heavily armored to protect all of their vital areas. Not invulnerable by any means, but the best thing to it, the best that intelligent beings could design.

  “It will still take them almost two months to make it to the Supersystem,” said the Ambassador with a frown. The Elysium did have hyper VII warships, a few, but most were detailed to outer border
patrol, where their abilities would allow them to cover the greatest distance. The main force, the battle fleet of the Empire, was composed entirely of hyper VI vessels.

  “Better late than never,” said the Commodore with a sour expression. “Maybe.”

  But is it? thought the older human, watching the battleship continue to grow in the holo, until it took up almost the entire screen.

  The hangar door was open, and the shuttle flew into the opening, and set down on the landing surface with a gentle clang of carbon alloy. The doors opened on the shuttle and the humans left the craft, to be greeted by a number of officers in a line, rendering the Brakakak version of a salute, two hands crossed over the breast, right over left. The first thing the Ambassador noticed was the odor. Brakakak had a sweet body odor, very pleasant to the human nose, like a bouquet of flowers. The hangar was permeated with the odor of so many of the beings gathered together. The second thing noted was both the presence of other aliens of the Elysium Empire aboard, and the absence of others. The presence of aliens other than the dominant species on the ship was strange to humans. In all of the human fleets, humans manned most of the ships almost exclusively. It made sense, when the ship was configured to be the home of the crew for long periods. Humans ships made allowances for some aliens, Malticorans for one, and other humanoid species. Otherwise, aliens served the Fleet in ships that had been designed for their use.

  The Ambassador counted a half dozen other species on the hangar deck, not all of them humanoid. And not one Knockerman. He remarked on this observation to High Lord Grarakakak on the way to the flag bridge of the ship.

  “We are having a little bit of a trust issue with them at this time,” admitted the leader of the Elysium Empire. “Normally, over half of the marine contingent of this ship would be Knockermen. They have been disarmed since the defeat of their rebellion, and replaced with my own people.”

  And weakened your marine presence at the same time, thought Horatio, matching his stride with that of the Brakakak leader. The avians were more agile, but the Knockermen were able to wear a heavier, more capable suit of armor.

  The bridge of the Kala-gran was impressive. It was much larger than a comparable human bridge, with half again as many stations. Its central holo tank was equally large, and at the moment showed the tactical disposition of Elysium fleet. Each icon had the name of the ship under it in the Brakakak language, the official tongue of the Empire. The Ambassador was fluent in that tongue, reading and speaking, and saw the names of many famous ships on that roster. Famous because those names had fought against the humans in several past wars.

  “We have eight hundred battleships,” said the High Lord proudly. “Two thousand cruisers, five thousand destroyers. The pride of our fleet.”

  While it looked impressive, the Ambassador knew that the force was not all that Elysium could muster. But it’s all they’re willing to part with at this time. Maybe, after they lose some ships to the enemy, they will be more willing to jump in with both feet.

  “It is very impressive, High Lord,” said the Ambassador, using his most diplomatic phrasing and tone. “And a contribution that will be much appreciated by my people.”

  “And you think it is not enough,” said the avian, forming a very human smile with his beaklike mouth. “And you would be correct. But it is the best I could get from the Military Council. They still have fears that the Knockermen revolt is not quite over. And I believe they are correct. We still have need of most of our fleet within our Empire.”

  “You realize that if the Cacadasans beat us, they will probably overrun your Empire, eventually,” said Horatio.

  “There is that word,” said the High Lord, his mouth curving into an approximation of a human frown. “Eventually. And if we don’t get our own house under control, we will be out of this war altogether. And the new masters of our Empire will not care what happens to the Human governments and peoples. In fact, they will cheer from the rooftops to see your people go down in defeat.”

  “I am sorry, High Lord,” said the Ambassador, bowing. “I did not mean to act like we were not grateful for your contribution.”

  “You are the consummate diplomat, Horatio,” said the High Lord, again smiling. “It will be a sorry day when you retire, and we no longer have the advantage of your wisdom.”

  “I’m not planning on retiring, High Lord,” said the Ambassador, who at one hundred and eighty standard years was still twenty years away from suggested retirement age. “They will have to ship me home in a box.”

  “A box? Oh, your singular burial ritual. I really don’t understand why you don’t cremate the body in place.”

  “Some of my people believe in that, but most still prefer being interred in a place their family can visit them.”

  “But, they are dead,” said the High Lord. “How can their families visit them?”

  “Some of my people still believe in an afterlife,” said the Ambassador, himself an atheist. “They believe there is something of the loved one left behind, something they can commune with. Or else, the loved one is living in a paradise, in some unseen dimension or other.”

  “I am amazed that your people have advanced so far in the sciences, and still hold on to such primitive beliefs. All one needs to see is the Universe around them to know that this is enough. There is no need for any religious beliefs.”

  And many of our people would pity you and yours, High Lord, thought the Ambassador, nodding his head in diplomatic agreement.

  “But enough about our divergent philosophies,” said the High Lord, gesturing toward the exit of the bridge. “Let me show you the rest of the ship. This vessel boosts in three hours, along with the rest of the force. That is plenty of time to let you see the defensive and offensive capabilities of the vessel, at least in theory.”

  Horatio and his Naval Attaché’ followed the avian around the battleship for the next two hours, taking in the various details of the vessel. Later, he would make his report to the capital, letting them know what was coming to their aid, and the embassy staff’s assessment of it. It still would not be enough, but at least it was high quality not enough.

  Chapter Eleven

  ELYSIUM BORDERLANDS. OCTOBER 21ST, 1001.

  “Prepare to be boarded,” came the message everyone on the bridge had been dreading.

  The three freighters had entered Elysium space just two days before being intercepted by a patrol vessel of that Empire’s navy. There had been no sign of the other Knockermen ships they were to have met, even though the Navigator swore they were in the correct area. So they had waited for those two days until a ship came along, the wrong ship. Now a light cruiser hung off the port bow of the lead freighter, having matched velocities in hyper VI with the trio.

  The Knockermen who ran the ship were almost in a panic, looking at the viewer and gesturing in their slow, ponderous style. The General watched them in disgust, wondering how he had been fated to have such allies pushed upon him.

  He looked back at the light cruiser on the viewer, a long lean vessel made for scouting. Yes. That will do nicely. Where my allies see a threat, I see opportunity.

  “Invite them aboard,” he said to the senior captain, the Knockerman in charge of the three freighters. “Play the part of the willing merchantman with nothing to hide. Allow them on board. Open one of the cargo hatches to let them enter.”

  “But, they will find you,” said the Knockerman, gesturing in his ponderous manner.

  “And then they will die. But they will not have time to find anything. And if all works as planned, we will have that cruiser to add to our force.”

  The Knockerman did not look as though he approved of the plan, but the General had overall control here, by dint of having six thousand Ca’cadasan warriors under his command. As long as he obeys, I don’t care how he feels. If he disobeys, he will have to be replaced as naval commander of this mission.

  As he had hoped, the cruiser had only one hyper capable shuttle. They sent that one ov
er to the freighter furthest from their vessel, while moving the cruiser in close, where hyper fields overlapped, and they could send marines in battle armor from ship to ship. The General displayed a predatory smile as he watched the enemy troops come across, twenty marines, in the lighter armor used for shipboard actions, along with five naval personnel who would perform the inspection. His men were in heavy assault armor, tougher, stronger and more heavily armed in every respect.

  As soon as the Brakakak entered the cargo hold that had been opened for them they were taken under fire. They hadn’t a chance, under the guns of almost a hundred Cacada troops. They died without able to return fire, confused and unable to react in the seconds they had. At the same time another hundred warriors leapt across the gap on suit grabbers and gained control of the hangar that the enemy had used to launch their own force across. There were only a couple of marines and some spacers in the hangar, and the Cacada came in firing. The hangar was theirs before they set the first armored boot on the deck. They had the airlock to the hangar open before the crew could react, and spread through that area of the ship, making room for the next hundred males.

  The General followed his men over the com link, looking through their eyes as they took the enemy ship. The Brakakak fought hard to hold their ship, but surprise and ruthlessness were on the side of the larger aliens. That, and greater strength and firepower. The Ca’cadasans crouched and crawled through the corridors of the alien ship, or flew in a horizontal position on their grabbers, blasting the few remaining marines out of the way, then taking down the less well prepared spacers.

  It took all of fifteen minutes to take the ship. There were bodies scattered around every corridor, laser scars and holes in the walls. The ship was damaged, but still capable of operation, and the General took the report of the Company Commander who had led the assault from the bridge of the freighter.