The Lost Fleet: Genesis: A Slaver Wars Novel (8 page)

“None,”
replied the sensor officer. “We’re just too heavily outnumbered, and their big
battlestations seem to be impervious to our weapons fire.”

Dalold’s
shoulders drooped as he studied the tactical display. Eight of his escort cruisers
were now gone and all of the remaining ships in his small fleet were under
heavy fire.

“The
Lightning
Forge
has been heavily damaged,” the communications officer suddenly
reported. “They’re requesting permission to withdraw.”

Dalold shifted
his attention to one of the viewscreens showing the other battlecruiser. Even
as he watched, particle beam fire from one of the Humans’ smaller battlestations
slammed into the central part of the
Lightning Forge,
setting off
massive explosions and hurling glowing debris into space. The ship seemed to
shake violently and then exploded, sending wreckage in every direction.

“Scans
complete,” the sensor operator reported.

“Withdraw!” ordered
Dalold, his eyes narrowing. “Our remaining escorts will remain behind to cover
our retreat.”

The second
officer stared at Dalold as if he couldn’t believe he had heard correctly.
“They will all be destroyed!”

“That is
inconsequential. Our mission was to obtain the sensor scans and we have done
that. It serves no propose to allow our ship to be destroyed. If we can get
back to High Lord Aktill with this information, then our mission can be
considered a success.”

The second
officer remained silent but carried out his orders. In moments, the ship had
reversed course and was fleeing from the battle.

-

Admiral Tolsen
watched the large viewscreen on the
WarHawk’s
front wall as the last of
the Shari escort cruisers was blown apart under the unrelenting fire of one of
the Indomitable Class battlestations.

“That’s the
last of them,” Colonel Cowel reported with satisfaction in his voice. “We destroyed
all of their ships except the one battlecruiser that fled the battle, and it
was heavily damaged.”

Commander
Arnett turned toward the admiral. “Why did they attack like that? It makes no
strategic sense.”

Race raised
his eyebrows as he thought of a possible answer. “Captain Davis, did you detect
any sensor scans from the Shari vessels.”

“Just the standard
targeting scans,” answered Davis. “Let me look at the data the ship’s sensors
recorded during the battle.” Davis was silent for several long moments as he
reviewed the information going across one of his computer screens. “That’s interesting,”
he said finally. “If these records are correct, the Shari battlecruiser that
withdrew was taking intense short-range scans of the surface of the Dyson Sphere
during most of the battle.”

Race nodded
his head in understanding. “They’re trying to determine if we’ve gained
access.”

“We don’t know
what the status of our exploration team is,” Colonel Cowel was quick to point
out. “We haven’t heard from them since they went inside the structure.”

“I’m going to
schedule a meeting with the other admirals as well as several of the other Alton scientists to determine our next move. I want Major Nolan and Ambassador Tureen to
attend as well.” Something needed to be done to break the current stalemate
with the Dyson Sphere. It was becoming abundantly clear they needed to find
another way in.

-

Several hours
later, Race stepped into one of the large briefing rooms on the
WarHawk
.
The room had been set up with a large conference table and comfortable chairs.
There were also sandwiches and beverages if anyone became hungry or thirsty.
Race expected this meeting to last for quite some time as they had a number of
decisions to make.

Taking his
seat at the head of the table, he looked around at those who were present. Alton admirals Lankell and Baasil, Admiral Stoddard, Rear Admiral Massie Tolsen, Major
Nolan, Ambassador Tureen, and four Alton research scientists.

“As all of you
know, it has been over three weeks since the exploration team entered the
structure on the Dyson Sphere. Since that time there has been no contact. We
don’t know if they’re unable to communicate or have met with some fatal
calamity inside the structure.” Race paused, looking over at the Altons.

“We have
spoken much of this,” Alshan Kalar replied. Alshan was an Alton research
scientist from one of the Alton science ships. “We believe there’s a high
probability the research team managed to find their way to the inner surface of
the Dyson Sphere.”

“Then why haven’t
they returned?” asked Admiral Stoddard with a confused look on his face.
“Surely they’ve had time to make their way back to the structure on the
surface.”

“That’s the
problem,” Alshan said deeply concerned. “The inner surface of the Dyson Sphere
is equivalent to over two million planets the size of Earth. We don’t know what
type of transportation they may have found or where they may have come out
inside the Dyson Sphere. They could have become lost and can’t find their way
back.”

Race leaned
back in his chair. He had suspected this was a possibility. “Is there any way
for us to open the entrance in the structure and send in a rescue team?”

Kalar shook
his head. “Reesa had the only known key. We’re searching for another method to
gain entry, but so far all of our research has yielded nothing that might be of
use. A one hundred-megaton antimatter missile would probably blast a hole in
the structure, but it would also do irreparable damage and it would take
multiple explosions of the same magnitude to allow us to reach the inner
surface.”

“How many
blasts would it take?” asked Massie. She didn’t like the idea of using
antimatter weapons against the hull of the Dyson Sphere. She didn’t think her
brother would either.

“Over one
hundred,” Kalar replied. “There is also a danger in using such explosive force
against the Dyson Sphere.”

“What type of
danger?” asked Admiral Stoddard. “We can move our ships far enough away to
ensure they’re out of the blast radius.”

“No, not from
the blasts,” said Kalar, shaking his head. “From the Dyson Sphere itself. It
would be foolhardy to think it doesn’t have a way to defend itself.”

“I am against
using any weapons of any sort against the sphere,” commented Ambassador Tureen,
making his presence known. “From what we know of the Originators, they were a
very intelligent and powerful race. Their offensive and defensive weapons may
well be magnitudes in advance of anything we have developed.”

“But they’re
all dead,” objected Admiral Stoddard. “The pathogen that came into being due to
their immortality project killed them all.”

“Did it?” asked
Tureen, pointing toward the single large viewscreen in the room focused on the megastructure.
“That happened several million years ago. How do we know a few didn’t survive
somewhere in one of the galaxies they inhabited or that a cure wasn’t found? We
don’t know who or what might be on the inside of this Dyson Sphere, and I don’t
believe it would be wise to risk angering them.”

“I will accept
your advice,” Race said. As far as he was concerned, Ambassador Tureen was the
legitimate representative of the Alton government and he would follow the
ambassador’s recommendations.

“What happens
if the Shari use their nuclear weapons against the Dyson Sphere?” asked Massie,
feeling concerned that if there was a reaction from the megastructure, it could
target them as well.

“Unknown,”
Kalar answered. “We feel that, at a minimum, there must be at least some type
of automated defensive system. We would hope the system is capable of
recognizing the difference between our ships and the Sharis’.”

Tureen looked
across the table at Admiral Tolsen. “Working with some of our scientists we
have come up with a friendship message we would like to start beaming toward
the Dyson Sphere.”

“What’s in the
message?” asked Race curiously.

“It tells who
we are, where we came from, the danger the Simulins pose to our galaxy as well
as to the Dyson Sphere, and a list of our accomplishments. We’re also including
some art and music.”

“Art and
music?”

“Yes,” said Admiral
Baasil, nodding his head. “Some of our scientists believe the Originators had a
great appreciation of art. We have included images of some of the finest artworks
from Earth as well as from the City of Light on Astral.”

Race was
silent for several long moments as he thought this suggestion over. “It sounds
like a good idea if there is anyone still alive in the sphere. However, if it’s
only automated systems we’re dealing with, the message may be meaningless to
them.”

“We are aware
of that, Admiral,” Tureen responded. “But I still believe we should make the
attempt.”

“How soon can
you have the message ready to broadcast?”

“Within the
hour,” Kalar answered. “We will set it up to repeat automatically and we’ll
beam it to different sections of the Dyson Sphere.”

“Very well,”
Race said. “Let’s do it, but take precautions to ensure the Shari don’t pick it
up.”

-

 The meeting
lasted for several more hours. Once the meeting was over, Race and Massie went
to his quarters to talk.

“How long do
you think we’ll stay here at the Dyson Sphere?” Massie was growing concerned it
would be a long time before they got back home to their parents.

Race let out a
deep breath and leaned back trying to relax. “We have enough supplies to last
over a year if necessary.”

“A year,”
mumbled Massie. She knew a lot could happen in a year. She looked around Race’s
quarters and a slight smile crossed her face. “Your quarters are a lot more
comfortable than mine.”

“You could
have better quarters if you would transfer your flag to a battleship,” he
reminded her.

“I know,” she
replied. “But I like my battlecarrier and I can command the flight wings better
from the
Hera’s
Command Center. Besides, not everyone was given a battle
dreadnought like the Altons gave you. How does it feel to command the most
powerful ship in the galaxy?”

Race grinned.
“I was just as surprised as everyone else when the Altons chose me for this.”

“I’m sure Ambassador
Tureen and former Fleet Admiral Streth had a lot to do with it,” Massie said.
She got up and went over to the small kitchen in Race’s quarters and poured
glasses of tea for both of them.

Returning to
her chair, she handed Race one and then took a sip. A look of pleased surprise
crossed her face. “This tastes just like Mom’s!”

Race smiled at
his sister. “Of course. That was one thing I insisted on. I have Mom’s tea
recipe and I follow it to the letter. She always makes the best iced tea when I’m
home on leave.” Before he could say another word, the Condition One alarms
began sounding and red lights began flashing.

“Not again,” moaned
Massie, her eyes widening. It seemed as if every time she had an opportunity to
talk to her brother they were interrupted.

“All hands, go
to Condition One, this is not a drill. I repeat go to Condition One. Imminent
combat is likely. Admiral Tolsen, please report to the Command Center.”

Race activated
his minicomm, which instantly placed him in contact with Colonel Cowel. Race
knew that Commander Arnett was off duty. “What’s happening, Colonel?”

“I have bad
news, Admiral,” Cowel began. “We’ve detected a Simulin task group that has just
jumped into the system.”

“Simulins,” repeated
Race, his heart beginning to pound. “I’ll be in the Command Center shortly.”

Massie looked
over at Race with deep concern on her face. “So, they finally found us.”

“Looks that
way,” answered Race. “You better get back to the
Hera
.”

Massie nodded.
“We’ll talk later.”

-

Entering the Command Center, Race saw a group of flashing red threat icons on one of the large holographic
tactical displays. “How many and how far out are they?”

“Forty ships
and they’re about four hundred million kilometers out from the Dyson Sphere,” answered
Colonel Cowel.

Commander Arnett
came bursting through the hatch to the Command Center, taking quick stock of
the situation as her eyes focused on the tactical display. “Are they moving
closer?”

“No,” Captain
Davis answered. “They’re holding their current position, but they are actively
scanning us and the Dyson Sphere.”

“Shit’s hit
the fan now,” muttered Colonel Cowel. “It was bad enough we had the Shari to worry about, now we have the Simulins as well.”

“What are the Shari doing?” asked Race as he sat down in his Command Chair.

“Nothing yet,”
Captain Davis responded. “They seem to be watching the Simulin vessels just as
we are.”

“I am picking
up heightened communications traffic between the Shari vessels,” reported
Captain Travers.

“What are the Simulin
ship types?” asked Commander Arnett as she stepped in front of her command
console.

Davis spent a few seconds studying the data coming across one of his screens before
replying. “Six battlecruisers and thirty-four escort cruisers.”

Race knew the battlecruisers
were seventeen hundred meters long and the escorts would be eleven hundred
meters. All extremely dangerous. Race felt a cold chill run down his back. Now that
the Simulins had discovered the Dyson Sphere, the strategic situation had
changed. The Simulins had weapons more on a par with the Altons and the Humans.
With a deep sigh, he knew he needed to send a message back to the Federation
informing them of the Simulins. There was a good chance when he did, the Shari would detect it and destroy the line of communication buoys. There were two lines and
this message would end up leaving only one intact.

“Send a
message to the Federation informing Fleet Admiral Nagumo of the presence of the
Simulins. Download all the data on the Shari ships as well as the Simulin fleet
and send it.” Race glanced at the big viewscreen. Time was running out, someway
they needed to either contact the exploration team or find another way in.