The Lost Swarm

by Vaughn Heppner

  Meta had left some time ago. She now returned, placing a tray of bacon, eggs, hash browns and toast on a stand before him.

  “Sourdough toast,” Meta said, “two eggs medium, crispy hash browns and jalapeno-flavored bacon.”

  Maddox did not feel hungry, but he ate half the plate to make Meta happy, although he couldn’t even finish all the jalapeno bacon.

  Meta noticed, and that confirmed for her that her love should go to the alien sculpture for healing—if it could do it, which seemed far-fetched. But what else was left at this point?

  “I have to talk to the Lord High Admiral,” Maddox said.

  “Could Drakos hack a long-range message?” she asked.

  “Eh?” asked Maddox.

  “You told us that such a hack was possible.”

  “When did I say that?”

  “You don’t remember the conference room speech?”

  Maddox sighed. He was too tired. He wasn’t sure he could do this after all. Yet, the others were counting on him. If he couldn’t fix this, who could? Valerie, Keith and Ludendorff were gone, possibly dead. Meta, Riker and Galyan…

  “We have to go to this alien sculpture,” Meta said.

  Maddox looked up. “You think it’s still there after all this time? It has to be over six thousand years old, older because Galyan hinted that it was ancient even back then.”

  She shrugged. “I have no idea if it’s there or not.”

  “You think Galyan’s miracle cure will work?”

  “Husband, I see that you haven’t finished your bacon and there’s still egg yolk on your plate. You always mop that up with the hashbrowns or bread. You haven’t finished any of that. You’re having trouble making decisions. Yes, I think we should risk the sculpture.”

  “It’s an implausible idea.”

  Meta shrugged again. “We’ve done many implausible things before. Why not one more to see if we can get you back on your feet?”

  Maddox stared at the deck. He was sitting in a wheelchair. That was no good. Maybe his wife had a point. But to go eighty-three light-years out of the way and then hurry back…

  “Take me to the long-range Builder com chamber,” he said.

  ***

  Maddox still sat in the wheelchair. He’d eaten half his breakfast and felt awful. He wanted to go back to bed and just sleep for another week.

  “Here,” Meta said, picking up the microphone to the bulky com device.

  Maddox stared at his wife. He saw the longing in her eyes that he would just get better all ready. This moping around, this weakness—

  With a grunt, he pushed out of the wheelchair and flopped onto a nearby sofa. He was exhausted, panting, with cold sweat making him shiver.

  That made Meta look more worried.

  “Give me that,” Maddox said crossly.

  Mutely, Meta handed him the microphone.

  He instructed her about how to manipulate the com device’s controls. After a time, a stern old man spoke out of the speaker.

  “This is the Lord High Admiral of Star Watch. Is that you, Captain Maddox?”

  Maddox depressed the microphone control, trying to pump enthusiasm into his voice. “This is Captain Maddox.”

  “My goodness, son, but it’s great to hear your voice. We were starting to get worried.”

  Meta snapped her fingers, causing Maddox to lift his head.

  Maddox scowled. He’d been drifting off. He clearly was in no condition to command Victory, let alone try to talk Cook into a course of action.

  “Captain Maddox, is something wrong?” Cook asked.

  Maddox closed his eyes, summoning his reserves of strength. He didn’t have any. He held the microphone loosely in his right hand. Omar and Ivan had been bigger, older and stronger than he had been. Yet, he had fought them. He would damn well fight this weakness, too.

  Yet Maddox found no extra strength. Instead, he found mulish stubbornness. He simply refused to let weariness stop him. He would not try to pretend anymore. He was out of it, almost unconscious tired. But until he actually keeled over, he would make his mind work and talk the old man into the right course of action.

  “Captain Maddox?” Cook asked. “Are you there? Why aren’t you answering?”

  Maddox clicked the microphone control. “I’m here, sir. I’ve been thinking.”

  “Are you okay, son? You sound sick.”

  “I’m in command of Victory, sir.”

  “You’re not well, are you?”

  “No, sir, I’m hurt. We’re in trouble, but we have an opportunity to finish the Thrax problem.”

  “You’ve found the new Swarm colony world?”

  “No, sir, but we’ve found something.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Meta is going to explain our recent troubles and successes, sir.”

  “What?” Cook asked.

  Meta was shaking her head.

  Maddox thrust the microphone at her.

  Reluctantly, she took it and told the Lord High Admiral about the incident with the hardliner New Men, the explosion at the Builder base and Ludendorff taking the darter to explore the traces of “E” radiation. Finally, she handed the microphone back to Maddox.

  “Is the captain there?” Cook asked.

  “Here,” Maddox said.

  “Soul energy?” asked Cook.

  “That’s right, sir,” Maddox said.

  The Lord High Admiral sighed into his microphone hundreds of light-years away. “This is a fine fix, son.”

  “I know.”

  “Why did you call me?”

  Maddox wanted to rest and think. He could no longer afford that. Taking a long, throat-rattling breath, he depressed the microphone trigger and spoke slowly into it.

  “Sir, I think the odds are high that we found the bug location. That means it’s time to take a calculated risk. Clearly, Lord Drakos came looking for Thrax. His strategy seems clear: combine the bugs and hardliners into one conquering fleet.”

  “Or combine Thrax with all the New Men,” Cook said. “Maybe the division between softliners and hardliners is fake.”

  “That is another possibility, but I doubt it.”

  “Why’s that, Captain?”

  “The hardliner-softliner split had been there from the beginning. I don’t think we’re seeing a long-term Throne World bluff. These are New Men, haughty, proud men. It makes sense there are divisions. At present, they lack a unified goal. Thus, they do what humans have always done. They bicker among themselves.”

  “There is some truth to that,” Cook said.

  Maddox’s head lowered. His throat was so dry. He raised his head and clicked the microphone, taking a wheezy breath. “Star Watch is weaker than it has been for a long time, sir. We have to take a risk and hope we guess right.”

  “That’s one way to do it,” Cook said. “But let me paint you a picture. Suppose they have compromised you, son. Maybe you’re so tired because Drakos caught and broke you. It took almost everything out of you, and now you’re trying to convince me to split humanity’s weakened forces.”

  “That is a possibility, sir, but that isn’t the case.”

  “How can I know that?” asked Cook.

  “You can’t,” Maddox said flatly. “You have to trust your gut, sir. I would trust mine.”

  “What would you do in my place?”

  Maddox nodded painfully. “I would trust the local forces throughout the Commonwealth to hold down their own planets for a time. Then, I would gather enough warships to send a powerful fleet out into the Beyond. It has to be strong enough to destroy one hundred and sixty bug saucers combined with…let’s say twenty stealth star cruisers.”

  “That would take a sizable fleet, at least two hundred major warships, possibly more.”

  “To destroy the enemy hard and fast, yes,” Maddox said.

  “I can’t afford to send two hundred such warships,” Cook said. “I could barely scrape together one hundred in a fleet I’m sending deep int
o the Beyond. Star Watch certainly cannot afford heavy losses.”

  “You could call the Throne World and ask for an alliance.”

  “And if this is a New Man trick?” Cook asked.

  “Then it worked,” Maddox said. “But like I told you, sir, it’s not a trick. I bet the Emperor would love to get rid of Drakos. Remember, I talked to one of the Throne World’s operatives in the Vega casino. I gave him the Spacer Vint Diem and he gave me the information we needed to come out here and stop Drakos.”

  “I haven’t forgotten the incident,” Cook said.

  “Together, Throne World New Men and Star Watch could wipe out the Swarm threat growing in our backyard.”

  “We don’t know that Thrax will take Drakos’s offer.”

  “Even if he doesn’t, sir, Thrax is still here or somewhere out here. Maybe Thrax will look for a way to get back to the Swarm Imperium. What better way than to act like a staging area for the Imperium in a third invasion attempt?”

  “Those are a lot of ‘ifs,’ Captain.”

  “I know, sir.”

  “I need to think about this.”

  “I don’t blame you, sir. But it would be good to consider this. It will take time to bring a fleet way out here—”

  “I don’t need a lecture on strategic timing, son,” Cook said coldly.

  Maddox didn’t reply.

  “You haven’t asked about the Iron Lady,” Cook said a few second later.

  “Is she well, sir?”

  “She is, and I’m sure she would attempt to convince me we should do this your way.”

  “It isn’t my way, sir. I think it’s our only chance. We don’t want to wait for Drakos and Thrax to join forces and time their attacks against the Commonwealth. They haven’t met yet. So, now is the time to strike before they’re ready. If we have Throne World help, all the better.”

  “You were supposed to take care of this, Captain.”

  “I know, sir. I still might.”

  “You’re going to that alien sculpture while the Commonwealth itself might be on the line?”

  “I’m dead beat, sir. I need to regain what I lost. Maybe Galyan is onto something.”

  “Or it might be a complete waste of time. I might relieve you of command and put someone else in charge of Victory. The Commonwealth is more important than your health.”

  “Yes, sir, you might well relieve me.”

  “Would you relay that order to your crew?”

  Maddox stared at Meta. She looked at him helplessly.

  “Captain,” Cook said, “I asked you a question. I expect an answer.”

  “Well, sir,” Maddox said, “I would have to be convinced that I’m really speaking to the Lord High Admiral of Star Watch. Then, I would have to believe that no one is holding a gun to your head to say that.”

  Several seconds passed.

  “I’m not going to give that order,” Cook said. “Because I finally believe I’m talking to the real Captain Maddox, and that you’re still a free will agent. In other words, son, that sounds like you. I will ponder your advice and give you an answer in a few days. Until then…”

  “Yes, sir?” asked Maddox.

  “Use your judgment, Captain. It’s been good in the past. Admiral Cook out.”

  Maddox handed the microphone to Meta. She hung it back in its place on the bigger, bulky long-range Builder com device.

  Meta looked up to ask her husband how he was able to say what he had. But Maddox’s head had drooped, and he was already snoring.

  -10-

  Aboard the Agamemnon, Drakos was in his command chair, witnessing the darter escaping the Swarm heavy laser beam.

  The three missiles that had moved toward the darter’s new position near the Luna-sized moon, now re-targeted yet again. This time, the three missiles turned toward the flotilla of six star cruisers and continued accelerating.

  Something or someone must have realized three missiles weren’t going to cut it against six star cruisers.

  Nar Falcon reported a sensor sweep from the missile installation on the moon. He added that a war computer or possibly a command center made the decision. From the moon, twenty-three more missiles launched, adding to the three already in the lead.

  “The Swarm respects our star cruisers, lord,” Nar Falcon said.

  “So it appears,” Drakos said. “Is there any trace of the Star Watch scout?”

  “None, lord. Our sensors indicate they used a star-drive jump to escape.”

  “It’s what I would have done in their place,” Drakos said to himself. “That means someone intelligent made a quick decision. Could Maddox have been aboard the scout?”

  “I would assign that a low probability, lord.”

  “As would I,” Drakos said. He drummed the fingers of his left hand on an armrest. “We will retreat for the present.”

  Nar Falcon’s head snapped up. Drakos noticed, and he noticed that some of the other bridge personnel noticed. Not everyone under his command had a brain implant. He needed regular New Men aboard, warriors who thought like him. Nar Falcon was one of those.

  “What is it?” asked Drakos.

  “Do you think Commander Thrax is nearby?” Nar Falcon asked.

  “I think I want all twelve of our star cruisers together before I meet with Thrax.”

  “Sir,” another sensor operator said.

  Drakos swiveled his chair to face the operator. “Report.”

  The New Man remained stoic, although his news was momentous. “Lord,” he said, “there are thirty saucer-shaped ships to our left and another thirty appearing to our right.”

  “Are they emerging from stealth mode?” Drakos asked.

  “I do not believe so, lord. The indicators suggest they’re coming out of star-drive jump.”

  “I see,” Drakos said, his gut tightening.

  “Lord, there are more appearing. It seems they are attempting englobement.”

  Englobement was a battle tactic for space. Since space was even more a three-dimensional battlefield than the sky on old Earth—as gravity did not constantly drag down in space—the only way to truly surround an enemy force was to encircle him from above, from below, and from all sides. That was englobement.

  “Nar Falcon,” Drakos said. “Alert the other star cruisers. We are going to use the star-drive jump. Give them these coordinates.”

  Drakos instructed Nar Falcon, who passed the coordinates along to the other star cruisers’ bridge crews.

  “The enemy ships are closing in, lord,” the second sensor operative said.

  Drakos nodded, half-smiling to himself.

  “Lord,” Nar Falcon said. “I am detecting a field I’ve never seen before.”

  “From the Swarm vessels?” asked Drakos, suddenly alarmed.

  “Affirmative, lord.”

  “Do you have any idea what kind of field they’re generating?”

  “I believe I do, lord,” Nar Falcon said. “It appears to be an anti-star-drive-jump field.”

  Drakos swiveled his chair to fully regard Nar Falcon. “This is a new type of energy field.”

  “Agreed, lord.”

  “A new field,” Drakos said to himself. “That would imply that Thrax has found new technology. I do not deem it likely they have been performing R&D on their own while trying to build a new colony.”

  Nar Falcon didn’t respond to the thought.

  “They’re powering up their laser cannons,” the second sensor operative said, studying his board.

  “It appears the darter barely got away in time,” Drakos said, refusing to show fear in face of the enemy.

  “Your orders, lord?” Nar Falcon asked.

  “Yes,” Drakos said, standing, approaching the main screen. “Use the Swarm tongue, the little we know. Hail Commander Thrax Ti Ix. Tell him we’re interested in opening negotiations for an alliance.”

  Nar Falcon licked his lips as his fingers blurred across his board.

  Drakos turned toward the second operative
. “Are the Swarm saucers still closing?”

  “Yes, lord,” the second operative said.

  “Charge the disrupter cannons,” Drakos said in a calm voice. “Raise the shield. Make sure the other star cruisers are doing likewise.”

  “What are we going to do?” the operative asked.

  “Do?” asked Drakos, as he raised an eyebrow. “If it comes down to it, we shall fight.”

  “But we’re surrounded.”

  “Exactly,” Drakos said. “It means our targets are coming to us en masse. It will be impossible for us to miss.”

  Several bridge personnel chuckled in appreciation of their lord’s calm.

  “Lord,” Nar Falcon said. “A Swarm creature wishes to address you.”

  Drakos indicated the main screen. He’d been waiting and hoping for this. To die uselessly galled him. To be caught so easily by the bugs infuriated him. But he would be damned if he showed any of that on his face. He was a superior. Such things did not distress a man who knew himself.

  “Is this the New Man commander of the pathetically small fleet?” an ugly Swarm creature said from the main screen.

  Drakos eyed the bug, the Swarm creature. It was as large as an Earth cow but looked much like an intelligent ant. It had an ant’s body, with mandibles instead of teeth, antennae, and six big insect-like legs. This one looked like a soldier bug. But, then all of Thrax’s hybrids looked like that. The Builder on the Dyson Sphere had made a new type of Swarm creature, one that combined the good qualities of brain and brawn.

  “I am Lord Drakos, the commander of Flotilla One dash One.”

  He noticed that the bug touched a box around his thorax. The box blinked, perhaps translating his words into clicks and clacks that a bug could understand.

  The mandibles moved. The thorax box blinked again, and from it came the robotic words: “I am Sub-Commander Tabanus Lex of the Royal Fleet of Supremacy Thrax Ti Ix the First.”

  “Ah, Supremacy Thrax,” Drakos said. “That is a mighty title indeed.”

  Again, the translator box blinked.

  “I am unused to your mammalian language,” Tabanus Lex said. “I believe supremacy assigns the proper meaning to Thrax’s new rank.”