Galactic Empire Wars: Insurrection (The Galactic Empire Wars Book 5) (4 page)

“Or feel,”
Casey said with a mischievous grin. Lauren had been the one who had helped to
show her how to act and feel more like a Human woman.

Lauren blushed
slightly and looked down at her food.

“I’m supposed
to meet with Colonel Winfrey tomorrow, maybe then we’ll know when we’re
shipping out.”

“Do you think
we’ll get some leave time before we go?” asked Juan. He really wanted them all
to go back to Luna City and go astro gliding one more time.

“Maybe,” answered
Ryan. He knew that Wade was due back in a few days from his trip to Lanolth.
The Kleese were once more on the move taking over the rest of the nonaligned
worlds. It was time for the Human race to lead the Alliance against the Kleese,
and particularly the Zaltule. Ryan wondered just what role he and his Marines
would play. He looked over at Casey, who was laughing and talking to Lauren. It
had been great to spend so much time together since their return from Delton. Now
that time was ending and it was time to go back to war.

Colonel Wade
Nelson entered General Alan Mitchell’s office expecting to find only the
general waiting for him. With surprise, he saw Fleet Admiral Kelly, newly
promoted Alliance Fleet Admiral Rivers, General Pittman, Admiral Adamson of the
heavy battlecruiser
Constellation
, and Colonel Winfrey.

“Have a seat,
Wade,” General Mitchell said, gesturing toward an empty chair. “We have a lot
to talk about.”

Wade sat down
and looked expectantly at the commanding general.

“We’ve all
read the report that you and Hyram wrote about the current status of the Alliance as well as their assessment of the Kleese intentions,” Mitchell began. “Everyone
is in agreement that the Kleese will attack either the Alliance or us as soon
as the last nonaligned world falls.”

“That was our assessment
as well,” answered Wade. “Even Alliance President Raytol is in agreement.”

Every since
his return from the Delton rescue mission, General Mitchell had been sending Wade
all across the Alliance in an attempt to drum up support for additional ship
construction and military support. For the most part, that mission had
succeeded. The Alliance fleet was now far larger and possessed highly advanced
weapons. In addition, every Alliance world was protected by a defensive grid as
well as powerful surface based ion cannons. The Alliance wouldn’t be an easy
nut to crack for the Kleese.

“There are two
more nonaligned worlds remaining in Sector Twelve,” Wade said, his eyes
narrowing sharply. “Hyram went to both as well as an ambassador from Lanolth,
and they failed to convince those two worlds of the danger they’re in. Both
possess large fleets as well as orbital defenses. They don’t want to become
involved in a war that might have significant impacts on their beliefs and way
of life. They even refused to accept ion cannons to defend their worlds with.
They believe the size of their fleets will cause the Kleese to uphold the
neutrality agreements they signed centuries ago.”

“A sad mistake
on their part,” said Fleet Admiral Thomas Kelly. Kelly had once commanded a
frigate in the Royal Navy prior to the Kleese attack, which had devastated
Earth. “Neither will survive for more than another few months and the Kleese
will then turn their attention toward the Alliance and us.”

“Do we have
the fleet assets to stop them?” asked General Mitchell, his steely eyes
focusing on Fleet Admiral Kelly.

“Most of the Alliance worlds have built their fleets up considerably, particularly the Lanolthians
since we sent them the second trading station we seized from the Kleese,”
answered Kelly. “Our own ship production has been greatly intensified as well.
The problem is going to be training. With all the new ships the Alliance now has, the crews are going to be very green. Hell, our own crews are
inexperienced. If not for the cloning program on Vesta, we wouldn’t be able to
come close to having the necessary crews to operate our new vessels. As it is,
we’re taking trained crews off many of our assault ships and replacing them
with much smaller inexperienced crews to cover our personal shortages on our
new heavy battlecruisers.”

General
Mitchell nodded and turned his attention to Alliance Fleet Admiral Rivers. “How
soon will you be setting out for Alliance Space?”

“Fourth Fleet
is in the process of loading supplies and munitions now,” Rivers responded. “I
intend on going to Lanolth and meeting with President Raytol; from there I’ll
go to Nalton and several other key Alliance worlds. I want to build Fourth
Fleet up to sufficient power to enable it to handle any Kleese provocation by
itself. We’ll have six smaller fleets assigned to fight holding actions until
Fourth Fleet can react. They’ll be positioned where they can rapidly respond to
any Kleese intrusion. In addition, we’ll have scout ships out watching for any
signs of Kleese warships approaching the Alliance.”

“I wish you
luck,” General Mitchell commented. “Admiral Kelly, what type of fleet units can
we provide the Alliance to assist in its defense?”

Admiral Kelly
cleared his throat and pressed an icon on the handheld computer pad in his left
hand. “We currently have nine fleets. Fleet Admiral Rivers will be taking
Fourth Fleet and we can spare two others without greatly compromising our own
security. We’re better off fighting the Kleese in and around Alliance space
than here at home. Keep in mind a major portion of Seventh Fleet will be going
with Admiral Adamson on his mission into Kleese space.”

“With the two
additional fleets, I can station them in the areas where we feel the Kleese
will most likely attack,” commented Rivers as he thought over the strategy he
would use to hold back the Kleese. “Somehow or another we need to find the
Kleese main fleet and lure it into battle. If we can destroy their fleet, the
war for all practical purposes will be over.”

The room was
silent for a long moment as everyone mulled over Alliance Fleet Admiral River’s words. It was difficult to imagine a galaxy where the Kleese were not a major threat.

“There may be another
wild card in all of this,” Wade said, leaning slightly forward.

“What’s that?”
asked General Mitchell, turning his attention to Wade.

“The Kleese
we’re having problems with now are their warrior caste, the Zaltule. From what
we learned on our Delton rescue mission, the Kleese Empire has fractured.
Supreme Overlord Xatul and several other powerful members of the Kleese Council
of Overlords have fled the empire with a major portion of the exploration
fleet. Military Overlord Harmock has taken over as the Supreme Overlord and is currently
searching for Xatul.”

“Where did
this information come from?” asked General Pittman, who had been sitting
quietly and listening to what was being discussed.

“From our
Delton rescue mission,” Wade answered. “Several Deltons heard the Kleese
talking about a division in their ranks. We only recently confirmed it from
several nonaligned worlds trading ships that managed to reach the Alliance after their worlds had been conquered. Minor Overlord Betel, when asked about it,
also indicated it was true. I believe it’s also one of the reasons he
surrendered.” Betel was the Kleese who had surrendered when his trading station
had been seized by Wade and his Marines.

“What does
that mean for us?” asked General Mitchell.

“Unknown,”
Wade responded. “There has been no known fighting between the two groups, and
the Zaltule are coming to believe Xatul left the empire to travel to another
section of the galaxy to create his own Kleese Empire free of the influence of
the warrior clan. I’ve spoken to Minor Overlord Betel about this several times
but he refuses to speak of the Zaltule. I believe we’ve learned all we’re going
to from him.” Betel was being kept on Centerpoint Station in a heavily guarded
cell.

“So even if we
manage to defeat the Zaltule, this former Supreme Overlord is out there
somewhere and we may have to deal with him sometime in the future,” commented
General Pittman.

“It may mean
the Kleese are now weaker than we thought,” General Mitchell said, his forehead
creasing in a thoughtful frown. He turned his attention toward Colonel Winfrey.
“Is your mission ready to launch?”

“The training’s
done,” Dylan said. “We can leave whenever you give the order.”

“Admiral Adamson,
are your ships ready?”

“We are,”
Adamson replied. “We can leave tomorrow.”

“I thought the
new assault cruisers would be acting on their own?” queried Dylan, feeling
slightly confused. They had discussed assigning each cruiser a series of
targets, each one deeper into Kleese space.

“They will
be,” answered Fleet Admiral Kelly. “However, we want to send sufficient fleet
assets along so if one of the assault cruisers gets into trouble we can prevent
the Kleese from taking our Marines captive as they did to Colonel Stratford’s people.”

“We’re still
discussing the exact size of the fleet,” Admiral Adamson added. “We’ll have the
final fleet makeup finalized tomorrow.”

Dylan nodded
his head in agreement. They had lost a lot of good people on that mission to
Diadem. “Have you chosen our targets yet?”

“Yes,” Fleet Admiral
Kelly answered. “You’re going on quite a trip; almost to the heart of the
Kleese Empire. We need to force them to hold off their attack upon the Alliance for several more months to give us time to train and make our final preparations.
We want them confused as to the exact size of the fleet we have operating in
their space. That’s another reason for adding so many warships.”

“So when do we
depart?” asked Dylan. “I would like to give my Marines a few days leave before
we go. Some of them probably won’t be returning home.”

General
Mitchell looked down at his desk and sighed. He hated sending people on
missions like this. “The mission leaves in five days. I think we can probably
squeeze in forty-eight hours of leave time in that period.”

Wade felt a
chill run down his back. He knew Ryan’s Marines would be in the thick of the
fighting. How was he going to tell his parents that Ryan was going off into
danger once again? They had nearly panicked the previous year when Ryan and his
Marines had been abducted by the Kleese. He would also have to tell Beth;
perhaps she could help him tell his parents. He doubted that Ryan, with a
forty-eight-hour leave, would be able to get out to Vesta. He was glad Beth had
resigned her commission and was now just a stay at home mom. It was one less
thing he had to worry about.

-

Ryan and his
friends were once more in Luna City. They were at the large park astro gliding
and feeling exhilarated at the sensation of being so high up in the air with
nothing more than a pair of wings to support them. The park had a large cliff
where one could be equipped with artificial wings and leap off into the open
air. The area was kept at Luna normal gravity to allow one to experience what
it felt like to fly. It was much better than the feeling of flying one felt in
one of the Type Four battlesuits.

Looking down
below him, Ryan saw Lieutenant Guthrie floating on an artificial thermal as she
experimented with the beginner set of wings she was wearing. Ryan was wearing
an intermediate set, which allowed for more maneuverability. Without surprise,
he saw Juan come swooping by as he did a complete loop in his pro set of wings,
showing off to the rest of the group. Ryan knew Juan had spent years learning
all the acrobatic maneuvers. Ryan was determined that eventually he would
graduate up to the point where he could wear the more advanced wings also. Some
of the maneuvers Juan was doing looked highly fun and exciting.

-

Casey and
Lauren were flying close together, enjoying the freedom that flying gave them.
“I love this!” yelled Casey as she caught a thermal and began rising higher up
into the air.

“I’m glad we
came,” Lauren replied as she followed Casey. If one caught the right thermal, a
person could stay up in the air almost indefinitely.

Casey noticed that
both she and Lauren were several hundred feet above Ryan. Mary, Cameron,
Jasmine, and Cassie were already on the ground and sitting at a picnic table
watching everyone else. This leave had been much different from the one several
years back. At that time, there had still been a lot of distrust and concern
about the growing clone population. Now thanks to a massive ad campaign from
Cheryl Robinson’s office much of that had changed.

People were
now becoming more accepting of clones, and the demonstrations had almost
vanished entirely. There were still occasional signs that showed up on street
corners and threats painted on building walls, but they were growing fewer and
fewer. It also helped that former President Mason Randle was in charge of the
cloning facility on Vesta, and he was still extremely popular with the Humans
in the system. It was general knowledge that Mason had single-handedly saved
the Human race from extinction after the Kleese launched the planet killer at
Earth.

“Where do you
want to go eat?” Lauren yelled as she began descending in a gentle curve. “I’m
starving!”

“Italian!”
Casey yelled back as she turned and began following Lauren down. “There’s a new
Italian restaurant on the main square that’s supposed to be really good.”

“Italian it is
then!” Lauren called back. “See you on the ground!”

Casey nodded.
They had one more night in Luna City and then they had to return to Freedom
Station. It would be the last night she and Ryan would spend together as lovers
for quite sometime. They had both agreed that while on the mission they would
sleep apart to set an example for the other Marines. It would also help with
discipline and maintaining good morale in the ranks. While it wouldn’t be a
problem with their platoon or Autumn’s if they bunked together, it might be for
the other Marines and fleet personnel that would be on the ship with them and who
were not familiar with Ryan and Casey.

If this was
going to be the last night she could spend with Ryan in the foreseeable future,
she was going to make the most of it. She had already gone shopping with Lauren
at a lingerie shop in downtown Luna City. Lauren had helped her pick out the
appropriate clothing items for tonight. She strongly suspected Ryan would
approve of what Lauren had encouraged her to buy.

-

On Freedom
Station, Colonel Winfrey and Admiral Adamson were standing in one of the
station’s numerous flight bays gazing at a new assault cruiser. The assault
cruisers had been designed to be much more powerful than the assault ships that
had been used in the past. They were larger, faster, and better armed to give
the Marines a maximum chance of survival.

“How many
assault cruisers are going on this mission?” asked Dylan as he watched several
cargo handlers moving supplies into the 350-meter long ship through a large
open hatch. Dylan knew the ship was 70 meters high and had a width of 200
meters. It could hold one hundred twenty Marines and their equipment as well as
its normal crew of one hundred.