Galactic Empire Wars 2: Emergence (6 page)

“We failed,” spoke
Major Makita, shaking his head in disappointment. “If this had been real, Mars
Central would have been destroyed.”

“Yes,” Michael
responded as his eyes swept around the Command Center. “Even I didn’t expect Admiral
Rivers to launch sublight antimatter missiles at the planet. It demonstrates we’ll
have to take that possibility into consideration in future defense strategies.”

“I just
received a message from Admiral Sanders; he reports that he was not able to
stop the attack on Vesta, either,” reported Lieutenant Jones, glumly. “Colonel
Bailey has already informed the admiral that this was a war game. Admiral
Sanders is standing by for further orders.”

“Contact
Admiral Stehr and inform him of the same,” ordered Michael, feeling a little irritated
at his crews’ failure to respond adequately to the scenario. Then, turning to
Major Makita, “Set a course for Earth. I’ll be holding a meeting with all three
admirals to discuss this war game. Admiral Rivers has just demonstrated that we
have a very big hole in our defenses, and we need to find a way to close it
up.”

-

Captain
Stevens was sitting in the mess hall eating with Lieutenant Griffith and Captain
Winfrey. They had been discussing the captain’s failed attempt to reach the top
of the mountain.

“I spoke to
Major Nelson a few months back,” Mark said as he cut up his roast beef. “When
they were under the control of the Kleese and going through this training under
the Kiveans, the weapon emplacements on that mountain were real. Several soldiers
died and a large number were injured during their training sessions.”

“So you’re
saying that some of my soldiers would have died under those conditions,”
Winfrey responded with a slight British accent. This training was turning out
to be much more difficult than he had expected.

“Possibly,”
Mark answered as he took a bite of the roast beef. It was certainly tender and
delicious.

He knew that
they were fortunate the Australian survival center had preserved a large herd
of cattle. They were going to be slaughtered for food, but then General
Mitchell returned and soon afterwards, they'd taken possession of the large
Kleese space station. Most of the cattle had been taken to the large farming
domes on the Moon, Mars, and to the new habitats inside Vesta.

“Is that why
the stunners are set to induce pain and knock you out?”

“Yes,” Mark
replied with a slight nod. “Soldiers in the Type Two and Three suits feel
invincible. We need to remind them that they’re not. The suits are an extension
of our bodies. They give us more strength, information, and heavier weapons. A
single battle suit has the firepower of a full platoon. But the enemy we're
going up against possess the same suits. Some of the alien races out there have
weapons that can damage or destroy them. It’s best to learn caution now than to
die out in the field.”

Winfrey nodded
his head in understanding. “How many times did it take you to reach the top?”

“Six,” Mark
replied with a grin. “I got stunned five times before I managed to get my
platoon to the top. The day I did I only had four of my marines with amber
suits.”

Winfrey was
silent as he thought over what Mark had just said. He had lost his entire
platoon today. “Are there any plans to build a Type Four battle suit?”

“Yes,” Mark
answered with a nod, recalling some of the designs he had seen. “A number of
our military scientists, with the help of the Kiveans, are already working on a
prototype.”

“A much more deadly
suit,” Griffith said. He had heard rumors of some of the things being
considered. Someone had even suggested allowing the suits to fire small nuclear
grenades.

“It’s still in
development,” Mark reminded them. “It'll be several years before it’s even
ready for deployment.”

-

Later, Mark
and Lieutenant Griffith were walking to one of the flight bays where the
lieutenant was catching a shuttle back to the Moon.

“Did any of
your family survive the attack?” Griffith asked at last. He knew that Mark had
a small family and he very seldom talked about them. Even when they had been
together in the small command shack just outside of Tent City, Mark had said
very little about his family.

“No,” replied
Mark, shaking his head. “I had a few cousins I hoped might have survived in Texas, but as far as I know none of them made it. The military was his family now, and Mark
planned to stay in as long as he could be of use. It gave him a sense of
purpose and a future.

Griffith nodded his head in understanding. “We were lucky; my wife’s parents and her
sister were in the Texas survival center. They’re living in the same dome as we
are on the Moon.”

“That’s great,”
replied Mark, looking over at his friend.

It had been a
tough few years for everyone. There wasn’t a single survivor that hadn’t lost
close family members and friends in the attack. Most people had lost everyone. The
counseling services in the settlements were overrun with cases of depression and
anxiety from what had occurred. The attack had left a deep scar on every Human.
It wouldn’t be until after the next generation grew up that the scar would
begin to diminish. Mark didn’t know if it would ever completely go away.

-

An hour later,
Mark watched from one of the observation windows as Griffith’s shuttle pulled
away and then accelerated toward the Moon. He let out a long sigh. Lieutenant
Samuel Griffith was the only true friend he had. He wished Sam had stayed with
him on the station, but he understood the importance of family and why Sam
wanted to stay on the Moon. Mark knew that if he were in Sam’s position he
would probably have done the same thing.

Leaving the observation
room, Mark returned to the habitation dome to continue his work with Captain
Winfrey. General Mitchell wanted soldiers trained as space marines for special
missions in Type Three battle suits. Mark wasn’t certain what the general had
planned, but he strongly suspected the Kleese wouldn’t be pleased when they
found out.

Wade stepped off
the battlecruiser Constellation and took a deep breath of the air in the brightly
lit flight bay. Even though the air in the ship was continuously refreshed and
harmful toxins removed by the air regeneration equipment, it still had a particular
smell that could only be associated with spaceships. The air in the massive
flight bay seemed so much fresher. Looking around, he could see another
battlecruiser and several light cruisers setting in their cradles. Numerous
crew personnel were busily working on the ships and loading supplies.

“I’m glad to
get home,” Beth spoke from behind him as she stepped out of the main airlock,
followed by several other marines. She stopped next to Wade and glanced around
the bay at the other battlecruiser. It was the Armageddon, Fleet Admiral
Kirby’s flagship.

“I need to
find a bar with some good beer,” Sergeant Dawson stated as he stepped out with
Sergeant Russell. They were closely followed by Lieutenant Stern, Corporal
Foster, and several others.

“There’s a new
place in the main food court,” Nicole commented as she took a moment to
stretch. Even though the ship had large corridors to allow them to move around
in their battle suits, it still seemed small when compared to the flight bay
and the rest of Centerpoint Station. “It’s supposed to be pretty good. They
even have a live band in the evenings.”

“Great!”
Sergeant Dawson spoke with a slight southern drawl in his voice. “Let’s head
there. Good beer and dancing, I can handle that.” Alcohol was not allowed on
spaceships and it had been a long deployment. “I hope they have some of the
stronger stuff.”

“Perhaps you
should stick with soda pop,” suggested Sergeant Russell, slapping Dawson on the back. “I don’t want to have to carry you back to the barracks.”

“A challenge!”
Dawson spoke his eyes gleaming. “We’ll see who can hold their liquor!”

Beth turned
around and gazed at the marines behind her with a look of warning in her eyes,
particularly at the two sergeants. “You have two weeks of leave; try not to spend
it all in the bars. And I don’t want any of you ending up on report. Is that
understood?”

“I’ll make
sure they behave,” Nicole promised with a grin. “Come on boys, let’s go find
that drink.”

Beth and Wade
watched as the group headed off across the flight bay toward one of the large hatches
that allowed entrance to the station proper.

“Do you think
they’ll stay out of trouble?” asked Wade, glancing over at Beth.

“I doubt it,”
replied Beth, shaking her head with a knowing glint in her eyes. “They wouldn’t
be who they are if they did.”

“I’ve got to
report to General Mitchell and Fleet Admiral Kirby to go over the mission
report in a few hours. Want to grab a bite to eat when the briefing's over?”
Wade hated debriefings even though he knew they were necessary.

“Sure,” Beth replied.
Wade and she had become very good friends over the last few years and often ate
together. “I’m kind of tired of ship food anyway. After a while, it all seems
to taste the same.”

“Then I’ll see
you after the meeting,” Wade answered with a smile.

Beth nodded;
she didn’t plan on staying at Centerpoint for too long. The only relative of
Beth’s that had survived the attack on Earth was her mother, and she was
currently living in Vesta. Beth planned on catching a passenger liner to the
asteroid and visiting her mom as soon as she could. She also wanted to see the
New Eden habitat. Everyone she had talked to said it was impressive and the
largest one in the Solar System.

-

Several hours
later, Wade made his way through the wide corridors of Centerpoint Station toward
his meeting with the higher officers. As he walked along the corridors, he
couldn’t help but notice how much everything had changed over the past two
years. The corridors were spotless and there were no civilians living in them.

When the
station had first been brought to the Solar System, millions of survivors had
been brought on board to live in the habitats and even inside the long wide
corridors. If not for the station, millions more would have perished on Earth. Now
all the civilians had been taken to the new habitats built across the Solar
System. The Moon, Mars, Vesta, and several other asteroids were now the homes
of the Human race. All were heavily defended and dedicated to someday seeking
revenge against the Kleese for what they had done to mankind’s home.

The Earth was
now unfit for life of any kind. Perhaps in the deepest parts of the ocean some
life might still be clinging on. The entire planet was covered by a thick and
dark cloud layer. Most of the surface was buried under deep snow, ice, and ash.
Volcanoes erupted continuously, poisoning the atmosphere, and earthquakes were
still quite common. The Kiveans had informed the Human survivors that it might
be several centuries before the planet calmed back down sufficiently before terraforming
would become practical. Even then, it would take many long decades of
terraforming before Earth could be returned to what it once was. Wade knew it
wouldn’t occur in his lifetime. In many ways, Wade felt glad he had been on
board the Kleese ship and station and hadn’t witnessed the Earth’s destruction.

As he walked,
Wade noticed numerous civilians as well as military personnel in the corridors.
The crew of the station consisted of sixty thousand civilians and twenty
thousand military personnel. It was a crew and military made up of people from
across Earth. Each had been implanted with one of the small universal
translation devices, which allowed all the different languages of the planet as
well as this section of the galaxy to be understood. Marken and several other
Kiveans had helped to program the small devices with all of Earth’s languages.

Wade took one
of the small transportation trams, which could be taken to many of the
different areas of the station. Narrow tubes crisscrossed Centerpoint, allowing
crewmembers to rapidly go from one end of the station to the other in a
reasonable amount of time. Centerpoint Station was one hundred and twenty
kilometers across and twenty-four kilometers thick. On its surface, were dozens
of habitation domes ranging anywhere from five to fifteen kilometers across. These
domes were where the station’s personnel lived and the military trained.

Wade watched
the walls whisk by as the tram hurtled through the station at a high speed. He
knew that visitors often became ill at seeing the walls passing by so quickly.
He had taken the trams so often he scarcely noticed the breakneck speed at
which they traveled. After a few minutes, the tram began to slow and then came
to a gentle stop. Wade and several others exited to find themselves on the
command level of the station.

The meeting
was going to be held in one of the conference rooms next to the Command Center, which was only a few short corridors away. It didn’t take Wade long to
reach the Command Center and as he passed it, he smiled at seeing two soldiers
in Type Two battle suits standing rigidly next to the large metal hatch that
prevented entrance. Security was tight on Centerpoint Station as it was likely
that someday the Kleese would return and try to take it back. Reaching the next
corridor, Wade walked down partway and then stopped in front of two more
soldiers in Type Two suits. He pulled his ID out of his pocket and was allowed immediate
entrance.

“Major
Nelson,” spoke an alien with a light red tinted body. The alien’s face was humanoid
with narrow eyes, no eyebrows, a wide nose, and small ears. There was no hair
on his head and he was slightly over six foot tall.

“Marken!”
spoke Wade, pleased to see the Kivean. He walked over and shook Marken’s hand.
“What are you doing here?”

“This involves
him and his race as well,” said General Mitchell, who was sitting at the head
of the conference table next to Fleet Admiral Kirby. Colonel Adamson was also
at the table. “Have a seat, Major.”

Wade sat down
with Marken taking a seat next to him. He looked over at General Mitchell,
noticing that the general had a look of deep concern etched on his face.

“Your mission
to procure intelligence information from the Kleese communications center was a
complete success,” Mitchell began in a steady voice. “Our intelligence experts
are still poring over the information you transmitted to us a few days back after
the Constellation came into communication’s range.”

“That’s good
to hear,” Wade said, wondering if there was a problem.

“As you know,
the Kleese control an area of space roughly sixteen thousand light years across,
with our solar system on one edge of it,” Admiral Kirby said his calm eyes
focusing on Wade. “The Kleese home worlds themselves are at the center and they
are constantly fighting small wars of acquisition to expand their area of
control.”

“Yes, we had
to fight in a number of those when we were captured and used as conscripts in
their military,” Wade replied. Those were days he wanted to forget. The Kleese
were a cruel and dangerous race, and Wade had never thought he would enjoy
killing anyone until he killed a Kleese.

“Most worlds
submit to the Kleese once they are contacted by the Empire rather than risk
attack; the few that do resist fall rather quickly to conscripts in Type Two
battle suits,” added Mitchell, recalling the battles they'd fought when the
Humans under his command had been conscripts. “As we all know, the Kleese will
not hesitate to use their assault ships to wipe out any opposing fleet and then
land their troops upon the surface of a world. Most battles are short and
almost always end in that world capitulating.”

“However, as
Marken has told us there are a number of nonaligned worlds that the Kleese have
left alone, partly because their science and technology are so advanced that
the Kleese would have to commit to a major military operation to conquer them.
Rather than do so, the Kleese have avoided these worlds, allowing them to trade
with one another and even use the Kleese space stations. From what we
understand, there is some type of neutrality agreement between the nonaligned
worlds and the Kleese.”

“We want to
make contact with some of those worlds,” spoke Admiral Kirby, leaning forward
and looking intently at Major Nelson and Colonel Adamson. “After studying the
data you procured, we've learned that there is a Kleese station solely
dedicated to trading with these races. It allows any race to trade there, and
the safety of all races is guaranteed while they are on the station. This particular
station is the hub for most of the trade between species for a major portion of
their Empire. Even many of the worlds under their control send trading ships
there.”

“Why are we
being told this?” asked Colonel Adamson, feeling suspicious. This wasn’t the
type of debriefing he had been expecting, and they had just returned from a
dangerous mission. He wondered if the Constellation was about to be sent out on
another.

General
Mitchell stood up and then continued with a serious look upon his face. “We
want you to take the Constellation and several other ships and go to this
station to see what they have to offer. Your primary mission will be contacting
some of these races and seeing what technology, if any, they might be willing
to share.”

“How does this
involve my race?” asked Marken, feeling intrigued. He had heard of this station
before but had never been there.

“Simple,” replied
General Mitchell, peering intently at Marken. “From the information procured by
Major Nelson’s people, we've learned that the station has a large contingent of
Kiveans on board. We’re hoping that will give us an inside track for speaking
with representatives of these nonaligned worlds. We want some of your people to
go along on the mission to speak to these other Kiveans.”

Marken let out
a deep breath and his narrow eyes opened wide. “I knew there were Kiveans on
some of the other stations,” he spoke in a cautious voice. “But I should warn
you; they might not hold the same desires as those who came with me about
escaping the Kleese.”

“We’re not
asking them to plan a revolt, just to help us speak with the nonaligned races,”
Admiral Kirby put in. “They may know who might be willing to help and who won’t.”

“Where do I
come in?” asked Wade, feeling a sneaking suspicion about what General Mitchell
was about to say.

“We don’t know
for sure what might happen if the Kleese realize Humans from Earth are on the
station,” explained Mitchell, letting out a deep breath. “If things go south,
your marines may have to go and pull our people out. All of the Kleese space
stations are very similar and your familiarity with Centerpoint will be extremely
useful if a dangerous situation develops.”

“What about it,
Marken?” asked Wade, looking over at the Kivean. He would feel much more
comfortable taking this mission on if Marken and some of his people went. Wade
and Marken had developed a special relationship since their time aboard the
Kleese station. “Will your people be willing to go on this mission? I don’t
think it'll succeed without them.”

“Yes,”
Mitchell responded as his eyes shifted over to the Kivean. “Major Nelson’s
right. We’ll need them if this mission is to have any chance of success. Your
race has much more practice dealing with other species than we have.”

Marken let out
a deep sigh. He knew that when he had talked the Humans into joining the Kivean
revolt there would be a price to pay. In good faith, there was no way he could
turn them down. He was also curious about meeting this new group of his people
on the trading station.

“I will pick
some of my people to go,” answered Marken, knowing his biggest obstacle would
be his life mate Harnett. “A few of them have had dealings with some of the nonaligned
races before.”