Galactic Empire Wars: The Alliance (The Galactic Empire Wars Book 4) Page 13
“It’s a Kleese warship killer,” commented Captain Alicia Damon, the executive officer. “I went aboard the Union before she launched on her space trials. She’s a marvel of technology and the Kleese possess nothing like her.”
“That’s what Gerald Lawson claimed,” replied Wade, recalling what the weapons specialist had told him. “He firmly believes the new plasma cannon the ship has will cut directly through a Kleese warship’s energy shield, even if it’s been greatly enhanced.”
“We’re going to find out,” Commander Greer said. “We’re bound to face heavy resistance from the Kleese when we try to take their trading station.”
“We’ll take it,” Wade responded. They had too. If Ryan and the others were still on board, this might be their one chance for rescue. If they weren’t, perhaps somewhere on the station was a clue as to where they had been taken.
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Admiral Adamson nodded with satisfaction as the Defender and Argyle took their places in his formation. Forty assault ships loaded with Marines also supported the two large troop transports and they’d brought along the two new heavy battlecruisers.
“Those are big ships,” commented Commander Sandra Shepherd, gazing at one of the viewscreens showing the Union and the Britannica.
“The transports are each one thousand meters long and so are those two new battlecruisers,” Adamson said with a pleased smile. He was glad to see the fleet was finally building ships, which could stand up to a Zaltule warship.
He’d considered moving his flag to one of the two new heavy battlecruisers but decided to stay aboard the Constellation since he was intimately familiar with the command crew. He was also used to commanding fleet battles from the Constellation’s Command Center and he didn’t think a last minute change would be a good idea.
“All ships are in formation,” reported Lieutenant Lash as the Union and the Britannica moved easily into their designated positions in the fleet formation.
“Alliance vessels report ready for departure,” added Lieutenant Emma Travers from Communications.
Admiral Adamson nodded. There were Fourteen Alliance systems that had warships assigned to Seventh Fleet. Some of the more recent additions to the Alliance were still in the process of assigning ships to other Alliance fleet formations. There were three other fleets, not quite as large as the combined Seventh Fleet, that were assigned to defending Alliance space. It was hoped that within six months they would be able to add two more large fleets to help keep the Alliance safe from Kleese attack. Production of new and more powerful warships had become a top priority in the worlds of the Alliance.
On one of the viewscreens, the blue-white world of Lanolth could be seen floating in the blackness of space. Its five billion inhabitants were depending on the newly established Alliance to preserve their world. Lanolth was probably going to end up being the capital of the Alliance. It was a very advanced world and had assigned most of its warships to the Alliance fleets. Council President Raytol and the Lanolthian Ruling Council had been instrumental in bringing many of the other nonaligned worlds into the Alliance. In addition, the planet was very heavily defended. Each one of its primary cities was enclosed in a ring of powerful ion cannons.
“Lanolth Space Control has given us permission to leave orbit,” reported Lieutenant Travers. She’d been in near constant communication with the commanding officer of Space Control as instructions were being passed along for the fleet’s departure.
“Let’s get the fleet going,” ordered Admiral Adamson, feeling impatient to get underway. “We have a long trip ahead of us in Fold Space.”
“Coordinates set,” reported Lieutenant Jase Martin from the Helm, as he passed on the departure vector and speed to all the ships in the fleet. A few moments later, Martin turned toward the admiral. “All ships moving away from Lanolth at ten percent sublight and accelerating. Entry into Fold Space in twelve minutes.”
Adamson looked at the main tactical screen covered with a myriad of green dots. Including all the Alliance ships that had been added to Seventh Fleet he had six hundred and sixty-four heavy combat vessels as well as two hundred and forty assault ships. This was the most powerful Alliance fleet ever assembled. He also knew a second Alliance fleet was headed for the trading station in Sector Nine. Another human fleet had been added to that as well as the Leviathan, the other big assault ship, and the other two heavy battlecruisers. Both attacks were timed to occur within just a few hours of each other. Due to FTL communication lags over such long distances, the two stations wouldn’t be able to warn the other one when the attacks began.
The minutes passed as the large fleet steadily accelerated and then the fleet in mass entered Fold Space, instantly jumping to a speed of slightly more than three light years per hour. To observers back in the Lanolthian system, it would seem as if the fleet had just vanished. However, advanced sensors were still able to track the fleet, as it quickly left the outer boundaries of the Lanolthian system and entered the deep void between the stars. A few minutes later, even those sensors were no longer able to track the departing fleet. It had vanished into the deep depths of interstellar space.
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On board the Defender, Wade let out a long sigh of relief as the fleet entered Fold Space and set course for Sector Twelve. He felt very apprehensive about what they would find when they got there. He’d promised his parents he would do everything in his power to bring Ryan safely back home. It was a promise he wasn’t sure he could keep. Even Beth had expressed her doubts about Ryan still being on the station when the rescue mission arrived.
Commander Greer leaned back in his command chair, glancing over at Wade. “We’ll be there in eight more days.”
“There are bound to be some Zaltule battlecruisers at the station,” spoke Wade in response. “We have no idea how heavily the stations have been armed, particularly those close to the Alliance.”
“There are always casualties in war,” answered Greer in a somber voice. “We all know that.”
“Eight more days,” repeated Wade, feeling impatient.
“What are you going to do if Ryan and the other Marines aren’t at the trading station?”
Wade was silent for several moments. This was something that had been weighing heavily on his mind. “It depends on what we find out on the station. If they’re not on board, we have to hope they managed to leave us a message.”
“That’s a long shot,” Greer said with a narrow frown.
“I know,” answered Wade in a quieter voice. “But it may be the only hope we have.”
-
The days quickly passed and the fleet was well into Sector Twelve. They were nearing the position of the large Kleese trading station, which allowed the Kleese Empire to dominate the sector. As a safety precaution, Admiral Adamson had dropped the entire fleet out of Fold Space in a brown dwarf system for a quick systems check. It also allowed them to perform routine maintenance that couldn’t be done while the Fold Space Drives were activated.
The system held no planets, only a small rudimentary asteroid field and a few wayward comets. The chance of being detected was almost nonexistent, but the fleet kept its sensors fully extended to give them sufficient warning if an unknown ship dropped out of Fold Space. The Alliance fleet stayed in the system for twelve hours and then jumped back into the safety of Fold Space once all ships reported ready for combat. They were fourteen hours from their target and would not drop back out until it was time for the attack.
“All ships have their assignments,” reported Commander Shepherd as she returned from Communications. She had just finished speaking to the Lanolthian and Nalton Admirals to ensure they understood their parts in the upcoming battle.
Admiral Adamson nodded. He was going to have most of the primary command crew to go get some much needed rest in a few hours. He wanted everyone sharp for the approaching conflict. With a feeling of sadness, he knew many of those in the massive fleet might not be returning home. The trading station was bound to
be heavily armed and defended by exploration ships, Zaltule battlecruisers, and possibly hundreds of assault ships. Leaning forward in his command chair he wondered what they would find on the station. He sincerely hoped their abducted Marines were still there, if not it would be difficult facing Colonel Nelson. How do you speak to someone whose brother might be hopelessly lost in Kleese space and would probably never be seen again?
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Minor Overlord Betel was standing upon the Command Pedestal in the trading station’s Command Center checking the existing inbound and outbound traffic. There were currently eight exploration ships either docked or in orbit around the station as well as seventy Zaltule battlecruisers. The other Zaltule ships were out on assignments policing the inhabited worlds of Sector Twelve to ensure there were no attempts to change allegiance and join the upstart Alliance that was flourishing in Sector Eleven. As a precaution, he also had forty assault ships out on routine patrol in the outer reaches of the star system the trading station called home.
“There are twenty-eight inbound cargo ships from empire controlled words,” reported Nastle from where he was standing in front of the station’s large sensor panel. “We have another thirty-two currently docked in the flight bays.”
“Inferior races,” commented Betel with distaste. “I wish we didn’t have to deal with them.”
“They furnish many useful products,” spoke up Minor Overlord Standt, who was the station’s second in command. “The products they deliver help to make our empire strong and they provide technologies we would otherwise have no access to.”
“Perhaps,” responded Betel dismissively. “They produce very little we could not produce ourselves if we truly felt it necessary.”
Alarms suddenly sounded and the conversations in the Command Center came to a sudden halt. Even the Nabians, who were normally communicating with each other, fell silent.
“Multiple ships dropping out of Fold Space,” reported Nastle. He reached forward with one of his dark and powerful arms, adjusting the sensors with the slim fingers of his right hand to get a better reading on the ships appearing on his sensors.
Standt gazed intently at the main tactical screen and then down at data appearing on a data display in front of him. “Alliance ships!” he stated, as his multifaceted eyes turned toward Betel. “Those are ships from the Alliance in Sector Eleven.”
“Take us to battle stations,” ordered the Minor Overlord, as he saw the tactical screen fill up with red threat icons. “Get the exploration ships undocked and begin launching all of our assault ships. Contact the Zaltule and order them to engage the Alliance ships at maximum range. They must not be allowed to damage this station. Bring all of our weapon systems online.”
“Why have they come here?” asked Standt, as he quickly passed on the necessary orders. Alarms began to sound and red lights began flashing.
“The human captives the Zaltule brought here,” replied Betel, blaming the Zaltule for this sudden attack upon his station. “They have come for them.”
“They are no longer here,” responded Standt.
“These humans don’t know that,” replied Betel coldly.
“Pulse fusion beams and energy batteries are coming online,” reported another one of the Kleese, who was responsible for the station’s weapons. Since the humans had taken one station and severely damaged another, all the remaining Kleese trading stations had their armaments greatly increased.
Betel watched as the Alliance fleet completed exiting Fold Space. When he saw the final numbers and the size of some of the warships, he began to feel concerned. The humans had killed Kleese in the past and were known to show little mercy toward members of the Kleese race. The humans preferred to use energy lances to cut off the heads of any Kleese they came across. Just as the Kleese showed no mercy toward members of inferior races, the humans treated the Kleese the same way.
“Order all conscripts into their battlesuits,” commanded Betel as an added precaution. “As soon as they have reached their defensive posts close all bulkheads and emergency hatches.”
“You don’t think they’ll actually invade the station?” asked Standt in disbelief, rising to his full height and making clicking noises with his six legs. “They wouldn’t dare!”
“The only way they can know for sure if the human captives are still here is to come aboard the station,” responded Betel sharply. “If they can board this station, they will!”
He’d firmly believed the stories of the human warriors were greatly exaggerated. No other race could compare to the Kleese in combat. He knew very shortly he would find out if those rumors were true or not. The mere fact the Zaltule had considered it of prime importance to abduct some members of the human military seemed to indicate they were deeply concerned about this race.
“How many human ships are we detecting?” demanded Betel, beginning to grow worried. On one of the viewscreens, he could see assault ships exiting the flight bays. On another screen, one of the exploration cruisers was in the process of undocking from the station.
“Part of the inbound fleet is indeed human,” Standt replied, as he studied more data on his screen. “They also have over two hundred assault ships.”
“They’re going to board,” predicted Betel. Gazing at the main tactical screen, he knew from the size of the attacking fleet there was very little he could do to stop them. “Inform all members of our race to put on their battlesuits; tell them the humans are coming.”
“I’ll also increase the number of conscripts guarding the Command Level,” added Standt, deciding to take the extra precaution. Looking around the Command Center, he gazed at the three different races of conscripts operating many of the control stations. Only the Nabians were truly obedient; the rest might panic if the battle showed signs of not going well. Standt picked up the small black control box from the top of the console in front of him. If there was any panic or hesitation following his orders, examples would be made very quickly.
Betel nodded as he turned away from the tactical screen and gazed at the heavy metal hatch that protected the Command Center. He hoped he didn’t regret refusing to allow any of the Zaltule to serve as station security. He’d made it very plain to Supreme Military Overlord Harmock that his own conscripts were sufficient to defend the station if it ever became necessary.
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“All ships have exited Fold Space,” reported Commander Shepherd.
“Contacts!” called out Lieutenant Lash, as red threat icons began appearing on the tactical screen.
“All ships set Condition One,” ordered Admiral Adamson. “Stand by to fire weapons.”
The Command Center came alive with intense activity as the crew prepared for battle. Orders were sent out and the fleet rapidly formed up into an attack formation.
“Zaltule battlecruisers are on an intercept course,” warned Lieutenant Lash. “Engagement range in eight minutes.”
“How many?” demanded Adamson, as he focused his eyes on the tactical screen. It was full of the numerous friendly green icons of Seventh Fleet and its allies. There were also a considerable number of red threat icons and one large group was clearly headed toward the fleet.
“Seventy,” answered Lieutenant Lash.
“We’ll engage the Zaltule ships first,” Adamson said, seeing that the exploration cruisers were staying close to the station. He could also see numerous assault ships were being launched and were taking up defensive positions around the larger ships.
Switching his comm unit on, he quickly contacted the heavy battlecruisers Union and Britannica. “Commander Davis and Commander Lucian, you are free to engage the approaching Zaltule battlecruisers. We’ll use attack plan T-3. Commander Davis, you will attack the Zaltule’s left flank along with the Lanolthian battlecruisers. Commander Lucian, you will take the right flank along with the Nalton battlecruisers. I’ll hit the center with the rest of Seventh Fleet as well as the Tureen and the Delton vessels. Show no hesitation and no mercy. I want those Zaltul
e warships annihilated. We have the numbers and superior firepower to do just that.”
“What about the rest of the fleet?” asked Commander Davis over the comm channel.
“As soon as we engage the Zaltule they’ll be going in with the Defender and Argyle to attack the station.”
“Four minutes to contact,” called out Lieutenant Lash.
“Good luck and good hunting,” spoke Admiral Adamson as he closed the comm line.
On the tactical screen, the Alliance fleet seemed to split up into four sections. The Union, Britannica, and Constellation had a total of over two hundred and sixty heavily armed ships about to engage the Zaltule. The Alliance ships had superior energy shields and weapons. However, the Zaltule ships were three kilometers across and one thousand meters thick. Their hulls were covered in weapons emplacements, with pulse fusion batteries and energy turrets everywhere. Hundreds of small hatches hid sublight antimatter missiles ready to be launched at a moment’s notice. Unlike the larger Kleese exploration cruisers, these ships were designed for war and there were no large training facilities for conscripts or holding areas on board. The entire ship was filled with power systems and narrow corridors, which would make it nearly impossible for a conscript in a battlesuit to traverse. These ships were designed for fleet battles and planetary bombardment.
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Admiral Adamson felt his heart begin to pound as they rapidly neared the approaching Zaltule warships. Even though they had the advantage, the Zaltule ships were extremely dangerous and deadly. They could cause a lot of damage if they got too close.
“Engagement range,” called out Lieutenant Lash, as a light on his console began flashing red.
“All batteries, open fire,” ordered Commander Shepherd, as her hands gripped the armrests on her command chair. She leaned forward, drawing in a deep breath. She could feel her heart beating in her chest and her breathing had sped up.