Galactic Empire Wars 2: Emergence (24 page)

“To sacrifice
our ships like that,” Pittman said horrified at the idea. “How can we ask our
crews to do such a thing?”

“We ask for
volunteers,” Mitchell whispered as he activated the com to speak with Fleet
Admiral Kirby. He took a deep breath and then began informing Kirby of Marken’s
idea.

-

Michael reeled
in shock upon hearing Marken’s suggestion. How could he ask his people to
sacrifice themselves in such a way? He quickly contacted Admirals Stehr and
Sanders and informed them of the strategy that General Mitchell and Marken were
suggesting, asking them if they had any other ideas. He hated the idea of
sacrificing any of his crews or warships.

He had just
finished talking to them when the Armageddon shook violently as if struck by a giant
fist and the power went out. He heard several loud screams, and the Command Center suddenly lit up as a console exploded in a bright shower of sparks. Michael
coughed and his eyes were burning as smoke began to fill the room. The
emergency lighting quickly came back on and Michael saw Major Makita stagger
back to his feet with his left arm hanging limply at his side. The ventilation
system kicked back in and began drawing out the thick black smoke.

“Sublight
drive is down,” Makita reported grimly, his face wracked with pain from his
broken arm as he studied one of the data screens. “Energy shield is at five
percent. We won’t survive another strike.”

“We’ve lost
four more light cruisers and twenty-two additional assault ships,” Lieutenant
Fullerton added in a numb voice. Her heart was racing and she felt fear
flooding through her. There was no doubt in her mind that she was about to die.

-

Admiral Stehr
looked in horror at the main viewscreen showing the Armageddon lying dead in
space. The ship had damage over much of its hull and several fires could be
seen burning inside.

“Armageddon
reports her energy shield is at five percent and her primary fusion reactor is
offline,” the communications officer informed the admiral. “Sublight and Fold
Space Drives are also down.”

Stehr took a
deep breath knowing he had only one choice. He turned to his executive officer,
Major McKenna. “Mike, order the crew to abandon ship, the same for the Vega and
Glory.”

“Admiral, what
are you going to do?” McKenna asked his eyes widening in suspicion.

“We’re losing
the battle; we have to take out those Kleese warships. You heard what Admiral
Kirby said.”

McKenna looked
at Admiral Stehr for a long moment. “Someone will have to stay and navigate the
ship,” McKenna said softly. “I’ll do it.”

“No, you have
a family back in Luna City. This is my command and my ship. I’ll stay with her
until the end.”

McKenna took a
deep breath before nodding his head. “Yes, Sir,” he said stepping back and
saluting. He then turned and passed on the admiral’s orders.

Stehr took let
out a heavy sigh and then contacted the commanding officers of the Vega and the
Glory. It was time to teach the Kleese a lesson in humility.

-

Fleet Admiral
Kirby was sitting in his command chair waiting for the Kleese to finish off the
Armageddon. He was thinking of Susan and their two daughters, Candace and
Karen. He wished he could tell them that he loved them one more time before he
died. The crew in the Command Center was quiet, knowing there was nothing else
they could do.

“Sir! The
primary viewscreen!” shouted Makita, pointing toward it.

On the screen,
third fleet’s flagship, the Liberation, was accelerating toward the nearest
Kleese warship. It was closely followed by the Vega and the Glory. All three
ships were firing their weapons nonstop, raining a hail of energy fire and
antimatter missiles on three of the dark Kleese ships.

“What are they
doing?” Lieutenant Fullerton gasped as she saw, from her remaining sensors,
that the three battlecruisers were on collision courses for the Kleese ships.”

“They’re
carrying out General Mitchell and Marken’s plan,” Michael said in a quiet and
subdued voice as he spoke a silent prayer for whoever was still on board those
ships. There was no doubt in his mind that Admiral Stehr was still upon the
Liberation. He was about to lose a very close friend.

-

The Kleese
Overlord Axtell stared in shock at the Human ship bearing down on the Dark
Oblivion. Surely, the Humans were not committing suicide!

“If that ship
hits our shield, it will fail,” warned Darlu his voice showing consternation.

“We will be
destroyed,” another Kleese stated, looking over at Axtell accusingly.

“Move us
away!” shouted Axtell, waving his hands toward Navigation.

“Too late,”
Darlu replied as the Human ship struck the Dark Oblivion’s energy shield.

-

Admiral Stehr
watched in satisfaction as his ship reached its target. One of the last things
he had done was to order the tactical officer to set the ship’s antimatter
missiles to explode on contact. He closed his eyes just before the Liberation
struck the Kleese warship’s energy shield.

-

In space, the
Liberation struck the powerful shield of the Dark Oblivion. Instantly the
ship’s mass was converted to energy, overwhelming the energy screen. At the
same time, eighty twenty-megaton sublight antimatter missiles detonated. A
massive blinding light, brighter than the sun, covered the Kleese ship and when
it faded, nothing remained other than a field of rapidly dissipating and
glowing gas. The Vega and Glory struck their targets with the same results. Three
glowing nova like explosions appeared in the midst of the Kleese fleet. In just
a matter of seconds, three of the deadly Kleese warships were gone. In
addition, a number of assault ships supporting the warships had been
annihilated in the massive blasts.

-

“Order all
ships to concentrate on Bug Two,” ordered Michael, fighting to keep his
emotions in check after the sacrifice of the three battlecruisers. The lights
in the Command Center brightened slightly, but most of the consoles were still
without power. “We damaged it earlier, perhaps now we can finish it off.”

“Kleese fleet
is beginning to pull back,” Lieutenant Fullerton reported as several of her
sensors came back to life including the main tactical screen.

Michael hit
his ship-to-ship com. “Admiral Sanders, you have command of the fleet. Hit the
Kleese as hard as you can as they withdraw. Your primary targets are the
damaged Kleese warship and the mother ships. I want them taken out!”

“Yes, Sir,”
Admiral Sanders replied. Sanders was still shaken by what had happened to
Admiral Stehr and his three battlecruisers.

Michael leaned
back in his command chair. The Armageddon was just a spectator now; they would
have to be towed back to Centerpoint for repairs. On the tactical screen, he
could see Kleese ships vanishing as they were annihilated by determined light
cruisers and assault ships. The fleet’s five still combat-capable
battlecruisers were pouring their fire into Bug Two. After a few moments, the
icon representing Bug Two swelled up and then vanished from the tactical
screen.

“Bug Two is
down,” Lieutenant Fullerton reported with obvious relief in her voice.

“Kleese fleet
is entering Fold Space,” Major Makita reported his face breaking out into a
grin. “They’re leaving!”

“There are
still a few damaged Kleese vessels remaining,” Lieutenant Edmondson pointed
out. On the main tactical screen, there were probably a dozen red icons within
range of the fleet’s weapons.

“Finish them
off, and then we need to search for survivors,” Michael ordered his shoulders
relaxing, knowing the battle had been won. However, the losses had been
massive. From looking at the tactical screen, Michael suspected they'd lost
over half of the fleet, and many more ships were heavily damaged. He felt
sadness flow over him, realizing how costly this victory had been and the tremendous
number of lives that had been lost.

-

“We won!” said
General Pittman, letting out a deep breath. “The Kleese fleet is retreating.”

“But look at
our fleet,” General Mitchell replied in a pained voice. It would take months,
if not years, to replace what had been lost today, particularly the trained
fleet personnel. This was a battle that was going to be very difficult to
recover from. They may have won the battle, but they might have just lost the
war.

Marken nodded,
sensing the shock everyone in the Command Center was feeling at the lives lost.
“A lot of Humans died today,” he conceded. “But you’re still alive and still
free.”

General
Mitchell knew Marken was right. The Kleese had just confirmed how dangerous
this war was going to be and the sacrifices that might be needed if the Human
race was to survive. Admiral Stehr had demonstrated that today. It was a
sacrifice no one would ever forget.

General
Mitchell gazed anxiously at one of the viewscreens as First Fleet’s flagship
was towed cautiously into one of the flight bays. The Armageddon was heavily
damaged and battle scars were evident across her discolored hull. Other fleet
warships were also being brought in for major repairs. Several light cruisers
and nearly a dozen assault ships were being left in space a few hundred
kilometers from the station as they were deemed too unsafe to be allowed to
approach the station. Their crews were still working valiantly to save their
ships with assistance from repair crews sent to assist from Centerpoint.
Mitchell let out a deep sigh, knowing the fleet had been badly hurt.

“I have the
final fleet losses,” General Pittman said as he stepped back up on the Command
Pedestal and sat down at one of the control consoles. He had a bleak look on
his face.

“How bad?”
Mitchell asked with a grimace, knowing the news wouldn’t be good.

“We lost five
battlecruisers, fourteen light cruisers and eighty-seven assault ships,”
Pittman reported in a strained voice. “Three battlecruisers suffered heavy
damage as well as twenty-two of the light cruisers. We’re still getting the
reports in from the assault ships, but early estimates seem to indicate that at
least seventy of them will need major repair time in the flight bays.”

“It’s bad,”
said Mitchell, shaking his head as he tried to grasp the ramifications of the
losses. “If not for Admiral Stehr taking out those three Kleese warships, it
would have been much worse. What about Kleese losses?”

“We took out
five of their six warships, seven of their mother ships, and one hundred and
twelve assault ships.”

“We’ve bought
some time,” Mitchell said, drawing in a deep breath and standing up. He pulled
back his shoulders and looked around the busy Command Center. “Inform the
flight bay crews to place a priority on ship repair for the time being. They’re
to suspend new ship construction until we can get the fleet back up and
running.”

“I have a
report from Marken,” Pittman added. “You might find this interesting. He handed
Mitchell a sheet of paper he had been carrying with him. Marken had left the Command Center to go consult with several other Kiveans about possible strategies to combat
the Kleese warships if they returned.

Mitchell read
the paper, his eyes widening at what Marken was suggesting. “He wants us to
modify a dozen of our larger cargo ships,” Mitchell said as he read more. “Fill
them up with water to increase their mass and add half a dozen twenty-megaton
antimatter warheads, as well as an energy shield. They'd be operated by remote
control and used to ram any Kleese warship that enters the Solar System.”

“That might
work once or twice,” General Pittman commented his eyes narrowing. “But once
the Kleese become aware of the tactic, I’m sure they will think of some type of
countermeasure.”

“Possibly,”
Mitchell answered as he thought the suggestion over. “But it might buy us the
time we need to come up with a weapon that is effective against the Kleese
warships. It’s better than ramming them with our battlecruisers. Contact Ethan
Hall at Vesta and see if he can begin implementing this immediately. They’re
better equipped for this type of work than we are.”

“I’ll get on
it right away,” Pittman responded with a brief nod. Then he looked at Mitchell
with a worried look. “How do we go about replacing the crews we just lost? We
need thousands of new recruits.”

“I don’t
know,” Mitchell responded his forehead creasing in a deep and worried frown.
“I’m going to speak to President Randle and Cheryl Robinson about that situation
to see if they have any ideas. It’s going to be a serious problem.”

-

Marken stood
in the flight bay, looking at the Armageddon as it lay in its docking cradle.
The bow of the ship was nearly nonexistent where a Kleese antimatter missile
had struck. Other heavy damage was caused by pulse fusion beams and energy
weapons fire. The hull was torn open in several spots and covered in burn
marks. He was amazed the ship had survived.

“The ship’s a
mess,” Larnell spoke as he gazed at the Human flagship. Larnell had come along
with Marken in case his help was needed on the station.

“We knew when
we freed the Humans and escaped the Kleese that they were a warrior race,”
Marken said in a soft and respectful voice. “We waited years to find such a
race. They prove it every time they face the Kleese.”

Larnell looked
over at Marken and slowly nodded his head in agreement. “When you first
suggested using the Humans I had my doubts, but now, after their victories over
the Kleese, there is no longer any uncertainty. If the Kleese are ever to be
stopped, this is the race that has the best chance of doing it.”

Marken let out
a heavy sigh. “We have much research to do yet, particularly with what we
learned on our mission to the nonaligned worlds trading station.” The Humans
had turned the computer drive over to the Kiveans to evaluate all the new
technology it contained. Several Human scientists had looked at it and quickly
realized the technology described was far beyond anything they were familiar
with.

Larnell
noticed that some of the crew were beginning to come out of the hatches on the
Armageddon. A number were being carried out on stretchers. “You mean the
technology the nonaligned worlds gave us,” Larnell said. He was one of the few
Kiveans that knew fully what was on the computer drive. “What have you decided
about the cloning technology?”

A grave look
came over Marken’s face. His eyes narrowed and his forehead creased deeply as
he considered his answer. “I don’t think we have any choice,” he said after a
moment. “It'll solve the Human's personnel problem for their warships and give
them an even more effective fighting force.”

“What does
Harnett think about it? I’m sure she’s not totally in agreement.”

“She’s not
pleased with my decision due to the moral questions it will bring up, but she
understands that if we are to defeat the Kleese this might be our only option.”

“When will you
tell the Humans?”

Marken shook
his head. “Not yet; we need to give them some time to recover from this battle
and then I will request a meeting with the Human leadership, as well as the
military.”

“You’re going
to use it as leverage to launch the rescue mission to Kivea,” Larnell said his
eyes widening. “Is that wise?”

“The cloning
technology is very complicated and highly technical. It would help us immensely
if we had some of the research scientists from our home planet to assist us. I
may speak to Major Nelson first, though. I'm closer to him than any other
Human, and I trust his judgment on serious matters. He may be able to assist us
in deciding how best to proceed with this.”

Larnell
nodded, not sure if he liked using this tactic with the Humans. He did agree
about consulting with Major Nelson. “If that is your decision, I'll support
it.”

“Thank you,”
replied Marken, watching Fleet Admiral Kirby come out of the hatch of the
Armageddon.

Marken could
already see engineers and repair crews looking over the damage the flagship had
suffered. Some of them were shaking their heads and pointing at various parts
of the ship as if they couldn’t believe the ship had survived. He let out a
heavy sigh, knowing that the war against the Kleese had just barely begun.

-

At Vesta,
Susan gave a deep sigh of relief as the all clear alarms sounded. Her brother
had come on the media stations a few moments back announcing that the Kleese
warships had been driven off with heavy losses to both sides. He had also
mentioned that he would shortly be meeting with Admiral Kirby to discuss the
current situation with the fleet. Susan suspected Mason had purposely mentioned
Michael just so she would know he was safe.

They were in a
small shelter beneath their home and Adrienne and a few others were there with
her. Susan was glad that Adrienne had made it to the shelter as she had been an
immense help with the two girls. Both children had been frightened something
bad might happen to their father.

“I guess we
can go back up,” Adrienne said as she walked over to stand next to Susan with
Candace holding her hand tightly. “For now, I suppose things will go back to
normal.”

“I guess,”
responded Susan with a tired look in her eyes. “Mason said he would be meeting
with Michael shortly. I hope that means he’s coming home for a while.”

“I’m sure it
does,” Adrienne answered as Candace released her hand and took her mother’s.
Adrienne looked down at the young girl. Someday she wanted children of her own.
She had mentioned it casually to Mason and he didn’t seem to be opposed to the
idea. Perhaps she should bring it up again.

-

Mason was in
the Control Center discussing the recent battle with Colonel Bailey. They were
both concerned about the losses the fleet had suffered and where they would
come up with the new personnel to operate the warships as they came back
online.

“It’s going to
be difficult,” admitted Bailey as he watched green icons slowly begin to appear
on the main sensor screen. The all clear signal had been broadcast, and the
civilian liners, cargo ships, and prospector ships were powering back up.

“They’re
eighteen million people in the Solar System,” Pamela said, looking confused.
“Surely we can find enough people to operate our warships.”

“The ships are
highly technical, much more so than the old navy ships we had back on Earth,”
explained Colonel Bailey, glancing over at Pamela still sitting at her command
console next to Drake. “We’ve used a lot of the old navy and air force crews we
found from all across the world. Unfortunately, not a lot of them survived.”

“We also need
crews for the passenger liners and cargo ships,” added Mason, arching his
eyebrow. “Even more so now that we’re spread out across the Solar System.”

It was
beginning to look as if they were going to have to install a military draft. It
would be highly unpopular, but he didn’t see that they had any other choice.
There were approximately three hundred thousand young people turning eighteen
in the coming year. Some of them would be exempt due to college and others
would not pass the fitness or mental exams for the military. Considering they
needed recruits for the space marines, regular army, and the fleet they were
talking about a large percentage of those that would be eligible.

“I don’t think
it would be wise to automate our warships any further,” Colonel Bailey said,
thinking about where their future crews would come from.

He had spoken
briefly to General Mitchell and knew there'd been some problems on a few of the
fleet ships with repair crews not being able to keep up with the damage during
the battle. They needed larger crews on the ships.

“What are we
going to do, Mason?” Pamela asked as she glanced around.

There were
nearly eighty personnel in the new Control Center and the tension level had
definitely come down. People were talking and a few were even laughing. They
had gone back to Condition Five, which was the lowest alert level.

“What if we
take some of the crews off the cargo ships?” Drake suggested. “At least they
would have some of the technical training that would be needed on the
warships.”

“It would help
somewhat, but not enough,” Colonel Bailey answered. He had a growing feeling in
the pit of his stomach that this personnel problem was about to become a
serious issue.

“It’s going to
be a problem,” Mason admitted. One that as president, he would have to figure
out an answer to. “I suggest we all go home and get some rest. We can discuss
what we’re going to do about this tomorrow when our heads are clearer.”

“I have a few
more things to do here and then I want to go check on Paul and Mike,” Pamela
said, thinking about her family. “I’m sure they’re okay, but this ordeal
probably frightened Mike.” Any twelve-year-old would be scared to death in a
situation like the one they'd just gone through. She wanted to get home to
reassure her family everything was all right.

Drake nodded
in agreement; his wife was the same way. Larcy became hysterical if anyone
simply mentioned the Kleese around her. He hoped his parents and brother had
been able to keep her calm.

-

A little
later, Mason was walking through the Smithfield habitat. It was no longer the
largest habitat inside Vesta, but to Mason it was home. This was where he had
been raised and where his father and grandfather formed the Smithfield Mining
Corporation. The habitat was thirty kilometers long, twelve kilometers wide,
and nearly two kilometers high. Some days, clouds even formed near the top of the
habitat. Several times a year, they experienced brief showers that lasted for a
few precious minutes. Whenever that occurred, most of the inhabitants of Smithfield would come out and stand in the gentle rain.

Nearly four
hundred thousand people now inhabited Smithfield. The streets were busier and a
little noisier. There were also a lot more shops and small restaurants. On the
perimeter of the habitat was a wide belt of green. Fields had been planted to
raise crops and trees had been allowed to grow to help remind people of Earth.
There were even a few small lakes as well as meandering streams that flowed
around the habitat, seemingly in a random pattern. The small streams were key
to moving water to allow for the subterranean irrigation of much of the habitat.

Mason lived on
the outskirts of Smithfield in a quiet neighborhood close to his sister’s home.
As he walked, he thought about the recent battle and what it would mean to the
struggling economy of the different colonies and habitats. They'd set up a
currency to allow people to earn a living and to buy the things they needed.
More resources would now have to be diverted to Centerpoint to help repair the
fleet and build new ships. He would have to talk to the Federated Assembly
Council and perhaps the assembly itself to explain the diversion of resources.
There would be grumbling, but in the end they would agree since they were
dependent upon the military for protection.