The Lost Fleet: Genesis: A Slaver Wars Novel (21 page)

“Return to
your duties,” ordered Aktill coldly. Lower Lord Samarth’s remarks were
bordering on insubordination. “We will wait until we hear from the council and
see what type of action they will demand of the fleet.”

Samarth nodded
and turned away to go about his duties.

Aktill watched
him leave, still feeling angry about Samarth’s attitude. It was inaction that
was beginning to affect the fleet. Aktill knew it would soon be necessary to
engage the Human and Alton fleets if he didn’t want his crews to begin losing
their combat efficiency. Looking at another one of the viewscreens, he could
see several of his battlecruisers and even a few escort cruisers. This was by
far the largest fleet he had ever commanded, and he wasn’t that anxious to
throw it into a battle he might not be able to win.

-

Inside the
Dyson Sphere Reesa leaned back in her chair, fighting to keep her eyes open.
After leaving the quarters she had been held in, the AI had led her deep
underground to a massive transit system that linked the different sections of
the megastructure. When asked, the AI had said her name was Leeda. The vehicle
they were traveling in was very similar to a bullet train she had ridden in
while visiting Earth. Only this train was capable of traveling nearly two
hundred miles per second in the transit tube they were traveling through. They
had been traveling for well over a day.

“We’re nearly
there,” Leeda said, noticing Reesa starting to doze off.

Reesa opened
her eyes and forced a smile. “Is this how you travel all over the Dyson
Sphere?”

“No,” Leeda
responded. “We have small flyers we can use as well as some spacecraft for
longer distances.”

“How much
longer until we arrive at our destination?”

“Four of your
hours,” Leeda answered. “Why don’t you retire to one of the sleeping
compartments and I’ll awaken you when we arrive.”

Reesa nodded
and stood up. She had spent a lot of time talking to Leeda about the
Originators. While Leeda was willing to speak in general terms about the
ancient race, she was unwilling to reveal anything about their technology.
Perhaps she would learn more once they reached the Control Center.

-

It seemed as
if she had only slept for a few minutes when Reesa felt a hand gently shaking
her shoulder. “Wake up,” a voice said. Opening her eyes, Reesa saw Leeda
standing over her.

“We’ve
arrived. If you want to take a few minutes to use the facilities to freshen up
feel free to do so. I’ll wait outside.”

Reesa nodded
and went into the small restroom and took a quick shower. After warm air dried
the water off she opened a slot on the wall and took out her clothes, now
completely clean. She still wasn’t certain if these were her original clothes
or just copies. After quickly dressing, Reesa left the sleeping compartment to
find Leeda waiting patiently for her outside.

“It’s only
about twenty minutes to the Control Center,” the AI informed Reesa. “The others
will be waiting there for us.”

“What others?”
asked Reesa, looking over at Leeda.

“The other
AIs,” Leeda explained. “A number have flown in from other sections of the Dyson
Sphere for this meeting. You have to realize you’re the first organic being
we’ve spoken to in over two million years.”

Reesa nodded.
She wished Kelnor were here. He had much more experience in diplomacy than she
did. As a head researcher, he often had to deal with diplomats when going off
on a research expedition. That was something she was sorely lacking in.

Exiting the
bullet train, Leeda and Reesa walked over to a bank of turbo lifts and were
soon headed up toward the surface of the Dyson Sphere. Upon emerging, Reesa was
surprised to see a small flyer waiting for them. It had only minimal wings and
was aerodynamically shaped with a clear glass bubble for the occupants to sit
in. Leeda opened the hatch and soon they were both seated. As soon as they were
situated, a restraining harness automatically snaked out, securing Reesa in
place. The flyer then took off and Reesa noticed the complete silence. There
was no engine noise or anything else to indicate the vehicle was moving.
Looking down Reesa marveled at how quickly the landscape was passing by. She
could see several sparkling cities in the bright sunlight as well as kilometer
after kilometer of forests and grasslands. In the distance, she could see some
lofty mountain peaks covered in snow.

“It’s so
beautiful,” she said, looking over at Leeda, who was sitting next to her.

Leeda nodded.
“We have tried to keep it as the Originators left it. The entire Dyson Sphere
is free of pollution and the poisons of most industrial civilizations.”

“Our worlds
are the same,” Reesa replied. “My people long ago learned how to live on them
without upsetting the fragile ecosystems.”

“That is
another thing we wish to speak to you about. Your race seems to be unusually
advanced. We are curious as to why you have allied yourselves with the Humans.”

Reesa didn’t
reply. She was surprised Leeda was aware of the alliance. It seemed to indicate
they had some method of listening in to the conversations between the ships of
the fleet.

The flyer
finally landed on the top of a towering building. It nearly reached into the clouds
and reminded Reesa of some of the structures on Astral, the old home world of
the Altons.

Leeda led her
through a maze of corridors before they finally stepped out into the Control Center. Reesa froze as she gazed around in disbelief. The room was cavernous in size;
its walls were covered with hundreds if not thousands of viewscreens. On the
floor control consoles were everywhere, however, no one was sitting in front of
them. It reminded her of the main computer center buried deep beneath the City
of Lights.

“The central
computer operates this Control Center,” explained Leeda, seeing the puzzled
look on Reesa’s face. “Everything is automated. There are normally only one or
two AIs present to deal with any abnormalities that might come up.”

Leeda indicated
for Reesa to follow her and soon the two reached another door. Stepping inside,
Reesa saw there were eight other AIs present. There was a long conference table
and the walls were covered with large viewscreens. Her eyes widened at what she
saw on the screens. There were close up views of Shari, Federation, and Alton ships. There was also a highly magnified view of an area on the outer hull of the
Dyson Sphere where the Shari were busily working.

One of the
male AIs turned toward them with a harsh look on his face. “I am Rakell. Why
have you and the people with you come to the Shrieel?” he demanded.

“Shrieel?”
Reesa said confused and suddenly frightened.

“The Dyson
Sphere,” Leeda explained. “The Shrieel is what the Originators called it in
their language.”

“We come in
peace,” Reesa said, feeling anxious. “We were also concerned our enemies, the
Simulins, would discover it first and attempt to use its power to bring more of
their fleets to our galaxy.”

Rakell gazed
at her coldly for a long moment before nodding. “Sit down; we have much to
discuss.”

-

For over two hours,
the AIs in the room asked Reesa hundreds of questions. They were curious about
the Humans and Reesa’s own race, the Altons. There were also a lot of questions
about the AIs and what had transpired around the black hole at the center of
the galaxy. Rakell was highly interested in the battles with the Simulins at
the galactic core as well as the one that occurred a few light years distant in
one of the old star systems of the Originators.

“We are aware
the Simulins have gained access to a number of the Dyson Spheres,” Rakell said
in a displeased voice. “We’re not sure how they first accessed a Shrieel as
there are safeguards in place to prevent unauthorized entry to any of the
structures. We do know how they accessed the ones after.”

“How?” asked
Reesa.

“We will
discuss that at a later date,” Rakell replied.

“Currently,
the Simulins as you call them have access to thirty-two Dyson Spheres,” one of
the other female AIs informed Reesa.

“Thirty-two!”
gasped Reesa, her eyes widening in shock. “How many are there?”

“There are two
hundred and twelve Dyson Spheres as well as a number of major bases and the
primary communications and transport hub,” Leeda replied.

“Actually,
there are two hundred and eleven Dyson Spheres,” Rakell said with a disturbed
glint in his eyes. “The one in what you call the Triangulum Galaxy was recently
destroyed by one of your warships.”

Reesa couldn’t
believe she had heard right. “How could one of our ships destroy something as large
as a Dyson Sphere? What ship was it?” There was no way this could be right
Rakell must be mistaken.

Instantly on
one of the viewscreens, the image of a ship appeared, one Reesa recognized
immediately. The
Distant Horizon
! She slumped down in her chair. “Why
did they destroy the Dyson Sphere?” Reesa couldn’t imagine how Rear Admiral
Barnes had managed to accomplish such a feat.

“The Simulins
were using this particular Dyson Sphere to send fleets to this galaxy,” Leeda
answered. “From what we have been able to gather, your Admiral Strong launched
an attack upon the sphere in an attempt to prevent the Simulins from continuing
to do so. The destruction of this particular sphere has some grave consequences
for the galaxy around it, consequences which could end in the death of all life
in that grouping of stars.”

Reesa didn’t
know what to say. “The Simulins are a threat to all of us. They must be stopped
from using the Dyson Spheres to spread their empire across the galaxies.”

Rakell looked
gravely at Reesa. “In that we are agreed, particularly since we have learned of
a major discovery in the Triangulum Galaxy, one that overrides our core
programming of noninterference.”

“A discovery?”
repeated Reesa not understanding. “What type of discovery?”

Rakell looked
around at the other AIs who all nodded. “It seems your people in the Triangulum
Galaxy have made a major discovery. They have found something we did not
believe was possible. It is something lost and thought destroyed during the
time of the great death of the Originators.”

“What did they
find?”

Rakell’s eyes
focused intently on Reesa. “They have found Kazak and the
Dominator
.”

“Who is Kazak
and what is the
Dominator
?” asked Reesa, her heart racing.

“The last hope
for the rebirth of the Originator race,” Rakell answered. “There is also a
great danger and that danger is Kazak. Kazak is another AI but a very special
AI. He was designed and programmed to be a warrior and commander of fleets. He
will do whatever is necessary to complete his mission and because of that your
people in the Triangulum Galaxy may be in grave danger.”

“What can I do
to help?” asked Reesa.

“We are still
discussing that,” Leeda answered. “For now, we must deal with the situation
here and your fleets, and then we will discuss what can be done about Kazak and
the
Dominator
.”

Reesa nodded.
She knew she was way out of her depth and needed some help. However, there was
an answer. Ambassador Tureen was with the fleet. He would be well suited to
negotiate with the Originator AIs; she just needed to figure out how to get him
here.

Admiral
Jackson gazed worriedly at the tactical display. For the last several hours,
Simulin escort cruisers had been dropping out of hyperspace periodically and
taking scans of the defenses around Ornellia. The long-range sensors of the
Dauntless
had detected a large Simulin fleet in a star system just nine light years
distant. A strikecruiser had been sent to take more detailed scans of the fleet
as Jackson was certain it was preparing to attack. The strikecruiser had
recently returned, and Jackson was studying the new data appearing on one of
his command consoles. Sixty Simulin battlecruisers and eighty of their support
cruisers were in that fleet formation. Jackson let out a deep breath. There
could only be one reason why that fleet was here and that was to retake
Ornellia.

“That’s a
pretty powerful fleet they’ve assembled,” commented Commander Sharon Blanton as
she studied the numbers. “It didn’t take them long to respond to our freeing
Ornellia from their control.”

“Not powerful
enough,” Jackson responded as he leaned back and thought about the battle
strategy he would use if and when the Simulin fleet attacked. “We’ll take some
losses, but we have the firepower to stop them short of the planet.”

That was
vitally important as the Altons were still in the process of removing the
radiation contamination, which covered much of Ornellia. A number of clear
areas had been established around the mountains, and from those areas the
Altons were using their battleships to increase the size of the safe zones.
Already hundreds of thousands of Ornellians had been brought to the small towns
and cities that were now radiation free. The planet was very slowly coming back
to life.

“Contact all
six of the battlestations and inform them their top priority is making certain
nothing gets through to the planet,” Jackson ordered. “Also, as soon as the
Simulins jump in I want all of our fighters deployed and flying just beneath
the particle beam satellites. They’ll be responsible for taking out any
missiles or Conqueror Drone pods the satellites and battlestations miss.”

“Nothing will
get through,” promised Commander Blanton.

“I hope not.
We have too many Ornellian survivors out in the open. I promised I’d protect
them, and I fully intend to do just that.”

“I’ll stress
that point,” promised Blanton.

“Once we’re
engaged in combat I want all of our Anlon bombers launched. They’re to hang
back and take out targets of opportunity, particularly any damaged Simulin
warships. I want each of them armed with a pair of Shrike missiles.” The Shrike
combat missiles carried a twenty-megaton nuclear warhead and would be quite
deadly to a ship without a functioning energy shield.

“The supply
ships, the hospital ship, and the two fleet repair vessels are moving beneath
the defense grid,” reported Lieutenant Ortega. He was watching the friendly
green icons on his sensors moving closer to Ornellia. “All Ornellians ships are
doing the same.”

Admiral
Jackson nodded. In the weeks since their arrival, they had managed to find a
few surviving Ornellian ships as well as a number of small research and mining outposts,
which remained untouched by the Simulins. There were currently twenty-two cargo
ships, six passenger liners, seven cruisers and two battlecruisers under
Ornellian control. The ships had been busy bringing in survivors from the other
planets of the former Ornellian Empire whenever they could be found.

“What about
the Ornellian warships?” asked Commander Blanton. “Admiral Santeld is offering
to help if the Simulins attack.”

Jackson thought for a moment. “No, the battlecarriers will be staying behind; I would ask
that he provide cover for them.”

Jackson didn’t want to risk the Ornellians’ last few warships; it might be years before
they could begin constructing new ones. It was a miracle they had survived in
the first place. Admiral Santeld had been escorting ships going to the
Ornellian evacuation fleet and had been ambushed by a small Simulin force. By
the time the battle was over and Santeld managed to lose the Simulins, the
evacuation fleet was long gone. Since that time he had been using his surviving
ships to gather what few Ornellian civilian vessels he could find. He had also
been providing support to a few of the remote mining sites and research posts
the Simulins had overlooked or hadn’t managed to get to.

“Should we
move the fleet into a defensive or offensive formation?” asked Commander
Blanton.

“Yes,
offensive,” replied Jackson. “Contact all of our ships and have them form up in
formation C-4.” This was an inverted cone formation with the apex forward.
“Once the Simulins jump in, we’ll move out to engage them. The farther away
from Ornellia we can start the battle, the less chance they’ll have of being
able to launch missiles or Conqueror Drone pods at the planet.”

Jackson watched as Blanton began sending out the orders. His eyes moved back to the
tactical display as he wondered when the Simulins would launch their attack. He
knew they wouldn’t wait very long.

-

On the surface
of the planet, Dax Matol had just been informed of the new threat posed by the
Simulins. He was in the city of Dorman and working with a small group of Human
Marines. For the last several weeks, they had been emplacing high-energy laser
turrets around the perimeter of the city to take out any inbound missiles or
pods that might make it through the defensive grid. The lasers turrets were on
top of towers and could be focused to ground level in case any of the dreaded
Conqueror Drones put in an appearance. Currently, there were twenty completed
towers surrounding the city.

“We’re as
ready as we’re going to be,” Les Ketene reported as he gazed at one of the
lofty towers. “We have two squads of soldiers assigned to each tower, and
they’re all equipped with the new pulse rifles the Humans have provided us.”

“We have five
other cities equally protected,” Dax added.

He had been
working hard with the Humans and the Altons to ensure the surviving people on
Ornellia were safe. On the north side of Dorman, he saw a flight of Human Talon
fighters take off and rise up into the air. A full squadron had been based at
the small space field. The four Talons leveled off and began a wide circle of
the surrounding countryside. It made Dax feel more secure knowing the deadly
fighters were ready to protect the city.

“It will still
be months before we have all the known survivors moved to the cities,” Les said
as he watched the circling fighters. “The Alton battleships are doing a
fantastic job getting rid of the radiation. We have found factories, farms, and
a number of other small cities untouched from the bombardment. A lot more
survived than I ever believed possible.”

“I spoke to
Councilor Oman Lantoll earlier,” Dax said as he turned to watch a squad of
heavily armed Ornellian soldiers working at setting up a defensive perimeter
around the laser tower. Lantoll was the only surviving member of the Ornellian
ruling council besides those that had gone with the evacuation fleet. “The
latest census indicates there are nearly two million survivors scattered about
the planet.”

“Two million
out of over three billion,” muttered Les in a shaken voice. “So many have died,
and the same is true on the other planets of our empire.”

“The Simulins
are a horrific species. They believe that all life other than their own must be
exterminated. At least our race has a chance to rebuild and someday reclaim our
worlds.”

“How many
survivors are there on our other planets?”

“Unknown,” Dax
answered as he watched a pair of Anlon bombers take off and head toward the south.
Most likely additional Conqueror Drones had been spotted, and the bombers were
being sent to take them out. Even after all of these weeks a few drones were
still being spotted.

“I know some
are being brought in with the cargo ships and the passenger liners Admiral
Santeld has been able to salvage,” Les said. “I saw several cargo ships land
just yesterday and unload survivors.”

“Admiral
Santeld has been using his cruisers along with a few ships of Admiral Jackson’s
fleet to survey the conditions on our other worlds and picking up survivors
whenever possible. One of Admiral Jackson’s battlecarriers has been
accompanying Admiral Santeld’s fleet to provide covering fire from the
Conqueror Drones whenever they do find survivors. He believes there are still survivors
on all of our planets though they’re infested with the drones. He has managed
to make contact with a number of the larger underground bunkers on three of our
planets and supplied them with sufficient pulse rifles to begin combating the
drones. Admiral Jackson is already making plans to send his remaining
battlecarriers to Absom to begin clearing the drones from that world. That’s
where Admiral Santeld believes the most survivors are.”

“I wish we had
more ships,” said Les somberly. “Every day the Conqueror Drones kill more of
our people on our other planets. I feel so helpless knowing there’s not a lot
we can do.”

Dax nodded in
agreement. “At least the Humans have given us hope. Enough of us have survived
that someday we’ll rebuild all of our worlds.”

Of course a
big part of that would be if the Humans and their allies could keep the
Simulins away from Ornellia long enough so the defenses could be greatly
enhanced and more warships built. Looking up, Dax wondered how soon the fleet
engagement would begin. All the bunkers were still full of people though they
had been resupplied with more food and medical items in case it ever became
necessary to go into hiding again. He had spoken with Admiral Jackson on a
number of occasions and felt confident in Jackson’s ability to protect the
planet. Even so, Dax still felt apprehensive. He knew if Admiral Jackson lost
just one battle, it could well spell doom for the Ornellian race.

-

“Simulins are
entering hyperspace,” called out Lieutenant Ortega as the red threat icons on
the long-range sensor screen began to blink out of existence to appear on
another sensor display showing vessels in hyperspace. “Estimated dropout time
from hyperspace is twenty-six minutes.”

“Our fleet
formation?” asked Admiral Jackson, glancing over at Commander Blanton.

“All ships
have formed up. Non-combatants have moved beneath the defense grid. The
battlecarriers have formed up into a diamond formation, and Admiral Santeld has
moved his ships into a supporting position around them.”

Jackson gazed at the tactical display trying to guess where the Simulins would exit
hyperspace, wishing he could be at that location. It would allow him to hit the
Simulin vessels before their energy screens could come fully online. “Take the
fleet out two hundred thousand kilometers from Ornellia,” he ordered. “We’ll
wait there for the Simulins.”

That would put
the fleet just on the outside of the planet’s gravity well. He doubted if the
Simulins would jump any closer and risk damage to their vessels. While the Simulins
were perfectly capable of jumping within a gravity well, it was always a risk
that could very easily compromise a hyperdrive core.

Jackson watched patiently as the fleet moved rapidly through space toward the expected
exit point of the Simulin fleet. Minutes passed quickly by. He exhaled a deep
breath, realizing he was once more about to take a fleet under his command into
combat. Brave men and women were about to die in an attempt to keep Ornellia
safe.

“All ships go
to Condition One,” Jackson ordered when the counter for expected Simulin
emergence reached the ten-minute mark. The fleet was already at Condition Two.

Instantly,
klaxons sounded and red lights began flashing. After a minute, Commander
Blanton turned the alarms and lights off, satisfied the crew was as ready as
they were going to be. She shifted her gaze to the tactical display showing the
inbound Simulin warships. “All stations are manned and ready for combat, sir.”

“Admiral
Bachal reports all of his ships are ready for combat; the same for the AI
warspheres,” Lieutenant Brenda Neal informed the admiral.

Jackson nodded. He was taking one hundred and twenty-seven ships into battle. He was going
to be slightly outnumbered, but with the AI warspheres and the Alton battleships he felt he had a decisive advantage in firepower.

“Emergence
vector calculated,” reported Lieutenant Margaret Burns from Navigation. “Six
hundred and forty thousand kilometers from Ornellia, vector twenty-seven
degrees by sixteen galactic north.”

“Can we get
there in time to englobe them?”

“No, sir,”
Commander Blanton replied as she quickly checked some data on one of her
screens. “We would be two minutes short.”

It was about
what Jackson had expected. “Very well, hold formation and we’ll engage as soon
as we reach weapons range.”

More minutes
crawled by and then suddenly alarms began sounding on the sensor console.

“Spatial
vortexes detected,” reported Lieutenant Ortega. “Emergence coordinates are as
projected.”

“Take us in,”
Admiral Jackson ordered as he fastened his safety harness snugly across his
waist and chest. He had no intention of giving the Simulins time to organize.

-

Simulin High
Commander Altrab gazed with cold eyes at the viewscreens in the Command Center as they gradually cleared of static.

“All systems
are coming online and working at optimum levels,” reported Second Commander
Jarald.

On the main
screen, the image shifted to show several nearby battlecruisers. The tactical
display suddenly flickered and came to life showing a horde of red threat icons
barreling toward the Simulin fleet as alarms began sounding.

“Sensor
contacts,” reported the sensor operator. “Confirmed Fitula Nebula organic ships
as well as AI vessels.”