The Lost Swarm

by Vaughn Heppner

  As they did so, the lone Juggernaut rotated first in one direction and then another. Inside the giant ship, the swirling cube and the whirring cylinders worked hard, photographing each vessel in the Joint Fleet. That took precious time.

  Drakos watched from his command chair aboard the Agamemnon. He sat utterly still, not allowing himself any gesture of impatience or worry. He had to set a pattern for his crew and in a sense, for history. He had no doubt that others would write about him in years to come. They would use every source they could find to understand his greatness. Some might look back at videos to see how he acted during times of greatest stress. Let them look. Let them study. They would see a superior at peace with himself. They would marvel at his preeminence. They would shake their heads, asking how the supermen of the Throne World could have picked the loser of the Emperor over Lord Drakos.

  Yes, this was his moment. He had striven so hard to reach this place. He would have to open himself and taste every feeling as he crushed his enemies. First, though, the damned alien device needed to work.

  What was taking it so long? Why hadn’t—

  At that point, the alien duplicator in the Juggernaut began to produce exact replicas of the photographed vessels. Attack saucers appeared. Star cruisers in perfect imitation shimmered into existence. Then, the Juggernauts materialized.

  Nar Falcon stared at him. “Lord,” the superior said in awe, “what is happening?”

  He’d told Nar Falcon what would happen. Why would the superior ask him that now? The man should know. Had he doubted?

  Drakos inhaled through his nostrils, and with exaggerated slowness, he turned to Nar Falcon. “Break out the Far-Tracker, and make haste. We have to set it up and determine the best moment to strike.”

  “We already know.”

  Drakos squinted at his subordinate.

  “Yes, lord,” Nar Falcon said. “I will get to it at once.”

  ***

  Far away, inside cold Pluto, the Lord High Admiral and the Commandant watched the main screen.

  “Look!” the operative shouted. “The first attack saucers are appearing.”

  Cook took one step closer to the main screen. Indeed, the first Swarm saucer-shaped ship moved from behind the gas giant in relation to the scanner. As those warships cleared the gas giant’s horizon, others followed.

  “Are they still braking?” asked Cook.

  The operative manipulated his board. “Negative, Admiral. The Joint Fleet is back on course. It’s heading for Laumer Point Two, which will take it into the Gomez System.”

  Cook turned back to Konev. “Why did they go behind the gas giant?”

  She shrugged.

  Cook scratched his scalp. “I would like to look behind the gas giant and see what’s there.”

  “We can do that,” the commandant said.

  Cook continued to scratch his head. Up until now, everything the Joint Fleet did made logical sense. The last maneuver had not. Of course, he would not order the Builder Scanner to look behind the gas giant. He didn’t want to strain the cyclers. Besides, the reason the enemy had done that was probably something obvious, and he did not care to seem like a worrywart in front of everyone. He was acting too concerned as it was.

  Cook smiled at Konev. “Switch the setting, Commandant. Focus the scanner on the Gomez System end of Laumer Point Two. The enemy is falling into our trap. I’m relieved, quite relieved.”

  Konev nodded. “Should we send a message to Admiral Byron?”

  “I’ll do that,” Cook said. “Carry on.” He headed for the exit. After several steps, he halted and scanned the personnel. “Good work everyone,” he said, nodding to several people. Then he resumed his pace, eager to make the call to Admiral Byron.

  -12-

  Cook left the nerve center of the Builder Scanner on Pluto, striding down the corridors. He hurried to the long-range Builder com device chamber. He was going to call Byron and tell him the Joint Fleet was headed for Laumer Point Two. For once, the enemy was doing exactly what they hoped he would do. That was such a relief, a vast relief. He had been so worried all this time—

  “Oh, Brigadier, come here please.”

  Mary was walking down a different corridor with her guards in attendance. She was likely walking for exercise. It was a little odd she was this near the nerve center.

  Mary increased her pace, the two guards falling back a little, no doubt to give her some privacy with the old man.

  Cook waited in the junction. “Come here. Run,” he told her, motioning.

  Mary did just that, running, and doing a good job of it for a woman her age. “Is Maddox all right?”

  Cook took one of her arms, linking it with one of his, turning toward the Com Room. “It’s better than that, Brigadier. The enemy is falling into our hands.”

  “Oh?” she asked.

  Cook looked down at her. “You must feel awful, being in the dark all this time. It was for a good reason, a good cause.”

  “I know that,” she said.

  “Well, Drakos’ Joint Fleet is heading for a Laumer Point that will take it directly into the jaws of a trap.”

  “Really?” she asked. “How marvelous.”

  Cook nodded. It was stupendous. The great fear, a bloody battle— “Lord Drakos is taking his fleet smack down into a blizzard of waiting missiles. They will devastate his force. Then, just like Hannibal did at Cannae, our fleet will surround and annihilate his threat once and for all.”

  “That sounds too good to be true,” Mary said.

  “Doesn’t it?” asked Cook. “I imagine Hannibal’s captains said the same thing as the Romans marched to their doom.”

  The Battle of Cannae fought on August 2, 216 B.C. was considered by many to be the most perfect battle ever fought. There, Hannibal Barca’s smaller army faced the largest Roman Legionary host ever assembled in once place. The Romans had marched packed tight like sardines, planning to crush the smaller army with their superior weight. Instead, through brilliant maneuvering and hard fighting, and through superior cavalry, Hannibal had surrounded the enemy as his troops butchered the Romans for hours, many of them crammed too tightly against each other to even raise their arms to defend themselves.

  Mary was thoughtful as they walked together. “Lord Drakos has never been a fool.”

  “He can’t know we’ve been watching him.”

  “He can. Drakos knows Star Watch possesses a Builder Scanner.”

  “I know that,” Cook said. “But…” He frowned.

  “What is it?” Mary asked. “You’ve thought of something.”

  “Well, I was worried a few minutes ago, but it was all for nothing.”

  “Can you tell me about it?” Mary asked.

  Cook pursed his lips, started shaking his head and then shrugged. As they headed for the Com Room, he gave her a quick rundown regarding what had just happened.

  “That is strange,” Mary said. “Why would Drakos take his fleet behind the gas giant?”

  “I haven’t the slightest clue,” Cook said.

  “And the scanner can’t look?”

  “I have it trained on Laumer Point Two in the Gomez System.”

  “That’s logical,” Mary said, with her brows furrowed.

  Cook looked down at her. “Can you conceive of a reason why the Joint Fleet did such a thing?”

  “No. I also don’t like mysteries. If I were you—” She broke off.

  “Brigadier, what were you going to say?”

  “I’d use Maddox. If this battle is going to be a turkey shoot, you don’t need his starship.”

  “Trying to keep your Maddox out of harm’s way?” Cook chided.

  “I don’t like mysteries, Admiral. I’d send Victory to the gas giant and have Maddox look behind it. Have him do it at once, too.”

  “I would look silly ordering that.”

  Mary stopped, and she put a hand out, stopping the bigger man. “When did you ever care about looking silly? You care about the Commonwealth�
��s safety. That’s first. If you look silly while you do your job, who cares? I don’t, and who else is going to know?”

  Cook stared deeply into her eyes. He saw her concern. He understood her reasoning. Yet, if the enemy fleet was heading for Laumer Point Two—

  “To put its head into the perfect trap,” Cook muttered.

  “Eh?” asked Mary.

  Cook grabbed her by the right shoulder and shoved her away as he lumbered for the Com Room. He had a call to make, but now he was going to speak with Captain Maddox first before he called Admiral Byron.

  -13-

  “Maddox here,” the captain said into the main screen. On it, Golden Ural studied him. “I’m leaving on the Lord High Admiral’s orders.”

  “Leaving in the face of battle?” asked Ural.

  “Thought you might view it like that,” Maddox said. “There’s something odd going on in the Teres System.”

  “The one linked by Laumer Points to the Gomez System,” Ural said.

  “The one the Joint Fleet is supposed to be departing to come here, right,” Maddox said. “So, I might be jumping into it sooner than any of you.”

  “Is there a reason for such madness?”

  “Curiosity.”

  “Not yours, clearly,” Ural said. He made a fluttering motion with his long fingers. “Go then. Scout. We will have the honor of destroying the remnant of the Conquering War-Fleet 1,021. Perhaps I can talk Drakos’s star cruiser captains into standing down afterward.”

  “Good luck,” Maddox said.

  Ural opened his mouth, and then closed it, nodding. “Until we speak again, Captain.” The New Man’s image disappeared from the screen.

  Maddox slapped an armrest. “Here we go. It’s time. Lieutenant Maker, is the course plotted?”

  “Aye, aye, sir,” Keith said from Helm.

  “Valerie?” Maddox asked.

  “Ready to scan and report.”

  “Galyan?”

  “I still do not understand our orders,” the holoimage said. “They seem odd at this point.”

  Maddox shrugged. “Drakos seems to be making a huge error, heading for a disaster. Our side can hardly believe it. Thus, they’ve invented reasons for what could have gone wrong. This gas giant in the Teres System—we’re going to look behind it.”

  “Why do you think Drakos flew behind the gas giant before heading toward the Laumer Point?” Galyan asked.

  “No idea,” Maddox said. “But if I know Drakos, he has a reason. We need to find out what.”

  “It ruffled feathers,” Galyan said.

  Maddox smiled. “Learned a new phrase, have you?”

  “Let us suppose that Lord Drakos had an actual reason for ordering his fleet to slide behind,” Galyan said. “What reason could he have?”

  Maddox blinked several times. The smile disappeared. Furrow lines showed on his brow. “Right,” he said. “Listen up, people. We’re in a combat zone. Let’s take nothing for granted. Maybe High Command has stumbled onto something. I want all of you ready for anything.”

  The captain tapped his chin. “Mr. Maker.”

  “Aye, mate?” Keith said. “I mean, yes sir?”

  “Make a jump course correction. I don’t want to come right in on the other side of the Teres gas giant. I want you to set a course for five hundred thousand kilometers on the other side of the gas giant.”

  “Yes, sir, mate,” Keith said, as he began plotting a new course.

  “Does that make you feel better?” Maddox asked Galyan.

  “Yes,” Galyan said. “As you suggest, this is a combat zone. If the New Man has a surprise, we should strive to not let it surprise us too badly.”

  “Lieutenant,” Maddox said, speaking to Valerie, who had cocked an ear toward them.

  She looked up.

  “What do you think of Galyan’s reasoning?” Maddox asked.

  Valerie blushed, but she forged ahead, saying, “I agree with it, sir.”

  “As do I,” Maddox said. “Well, Mr. Maker, how long is this going to take?

  Keith manipulated his board for seven more seconds before twisting around. “I’m ready to jump, sir.”

  “Engage the star-drive,” Maddox said.

  ***

  As the crew of Victory prepared to jump, the huge Juggernaut with the alien duplicator inside it reached Laumer Point Two in the Teres System. The ball-bearing-shaped warship twenty kilometers in diameter plunged into the wormhole, zipping along the linked route three and three-quarters light-years until it popped out of Laumer Point Two in the Gomez System.

  Every duplicated replica shimmered like a bad holoimage for one tenth of a second. That was Jump Lag. Whoever had made the tech item had known a thing or two about such lag. The replicas appeared solid again and would show enemy sensors the same data as the real McCoys would have shown.

  The Juggernaut had moved through velocity upon exiting and while lagged. Its motive power returned, and it resumed its heading, forging through the dust particles and drifting gases. The vast fake Joint Fleet appeared to do the same thing, mimicking what the real attack saucers, star cruisers and Juggernauts would have done.

  The replicas headed for waiting missiles drifting in the void of space for just such a time as this.

  ***

  Admiral Byron III sat with his legs crossed on the command chair of Flagship Kaiser Wilhelm. The fifteen Bismarck-class battleships were in orbit around the star, about one-half of the distance that Mercury orbited the Sun.

  The rest of the fleet waited behind the second planet, approximately ten million kilometers from Laumer Point Two.

  “Look, sir,” the sensor officer said.

  Byron savored this. It had been his idea with a few modifications from the others. He knew the Lord High Admiral would likely try to take credit for some of the idea. If he could crush the Joint Fleet in the next hour, he would have enough credit to share with the old man.

  Byron nodded. He had always known that he was a brilliant tactician. Now, history would see that, too. He cleared his throat. “Send the order, Harry. Unleash the dogs of war.”

  Harry, a squat bald man from Flanders, turned around. “Admiral?”

  “The dogs of war, man,” Byron said. “Tell second, third and fourth flotillas to begin acceleration. They’re to maneuver exactly as we practiced in the war game simulations. We’re going to recreate Cannae today, but in space. Why aren’t the missiles moving?”

  “They’re locked, sir. Should I send the message to unlock them, too?”

  “Unlock them at once,” Byron said. “Then, call the battleship captains. It’s time to jump into killing position. We’re going to surround those bastards and annihilate every one of them.”

  “Begging your pardon, sir,” Captain Austin asked, the commander of the Kaiser Wilhelm.

  “What?” asked Byron.

  “Should we avoid firing on the enemy star cruisers?”

  A feral smile stretched onto Byron III’s lips. “I want those targeted first. Burn them into cinders, Captain. We want to make sure no New Man survives this day to hurt our kind again.”

  Captain Austin nodded.

  Byron clapped his hands. “This is it. The crushing is about to begin.”

  -14-

  The Star Watch missiles approximately one million kilometers from Laumer Point Two received the unlock message and started moving, exhaust tails quickly growing.

  At the same time, the Patrol Fleet warships behind the second planet swung around it, accelerating fast for the enemy ships, with only the four carriers hanging back. From the carriers, strikefighters and fold-fighters began to launch.

  Golden Ural’s flotilla had already made its star-drive jump. They appeared on the Joint Fleet’s flank by ten million kilometers, the flank facing the system’s Oort cloud. Jump Lag was striking the star cruisers. Soon, though, they would be out of lag and ready to maneuver into their cone of battle.

  The Bismarck-class battleships started appearing in their new posi
tions. They were on the Joint Fleet’s other flank, the one facing the Gomez star. Jump Lag was striking them. They would shake it off shortly after the allied New Men did.

  As of yet, the enemy Joint Fleet had made no reactions to these maneuvers. It was quite startling, really. The few people who asked themselves about that assumed the thicker debris, dust and drifting gas clouds must account for that, hiding them from the unwary enemy.

  Aboard the Boreas on its bridge, Golden Ural raised his head and then rose from his command chair. He began shaking those of his bridge personnel still under the grip of Jump Lag. Afterward, he began issuing orders. The seventeen star cruisers under his command began forming a cone of battle.

  Admiral Byron issued orders from the Kaiser Wilhelm. The fifteen heavy battleships bored in toward the Joint Fleet’s flank.

  Byron glanced at the tactical hologram tank to his side. The missiles moved in, and the enemy hadn’t begun any countermeasures. This was almost too good to be true. This was a perfect ambush.

  Behind the missiles by almost eight million kilometers came the first wave, this one of monitors. They were heavily armored and shielded vessels, slower than the other capital ships. They had started first at almost max acceleration. Behind the monitors by half a million kilometers were Star Watch heavy and attack cruisers. The destroyers and escorts were above, below and slightly behind the cruisers. As the vessels approached the enemy, various ships began to move upward and downward, attempting to create a net effect. This time, Byron was attempting a classic englobement, even though it looked like the allies wouldn’t need it.

  “The Joint Fleet is still heading straight for the missiles,” Captain Austin said in astonishment.

  Byron grinned. Here it started. Here the legend began. Austin would tell posterity how Byron had known exactly what to do even before the enemy had appeared.

  “Let’s not be hasty,” Byron said. He could feel total victory in his grasp, but he didn’t want to gloat, as that was bad manners. “Are the links open with the missiles? Maybe the enemy is attempting to jam them, and we don’t know it.”