Chapter One

“Get down!” yelled Lieutenant Ryan Nelson as a nearby explosion showered him with dirt and rocks.

The lieutenant dove head first into a nearby smoking crater, landing hard and rolling in his Type Four battlesuit. The eight-foot tall black and gray suit cushioned his fall and as soon as he regained control, he scrambled to his knees, peering cautiously over the lip of the crater. With a grimace, he saw the scattered remains of a battlesuit and glanced at his HUD to see if it signified one of his platoon members. With a sigh of relief, he saw his Marines were all still alive, but a few icons were blinking amber, indicating suit damage. They’d been ambushed by the arachnids and were under heavy and unrelenting fire.

“Status!” he barked over the platoon frequency, as more explosions shook the ground near him. Over his comm, he could hear a muttered cursing and instantly recognized the voice.

“Damn Kleese have us pinned down,” complained Corporal Parker from where he was lying on the ground in a prone position firing his RG rifle at a distant target. He was in an exposed position with no significant cover around him

“Switch to suit explosive rounds,” Ryan ordered as more explosions went off around his embattled position. “The Kleese have to be on the ridge in front of us. I want every tree on that damn ridge blown apart!”

Ryan concentrated and the visor in his helmet instantly expanded the view of the ridge. He scanned across it, carefully seeking targets of opportunity. Every so often he would see a puff of dark smoke as an explosive round was launched toward the pinned down company of Marines.

“Firing explosive rounds!” yelled Corporal Adams as she sent half a dozen of the powerful explosive shells arching toward the ridge. Four other Marines close to her were also launching shells.

As Ryan watched, a series of massive explosions marched across the ridge, sending rocks and dirt flying high up in the air. Trees were blown apart and large smoking craters were left behind. Shortly, the top of the ridge was covered with small fires and billowing black smoke.

“Lieutenant Ryan?” Major Stevens spoke over the command frequency.

“Yes, sir?” Ryan responded as he searched the devastated ridge for any more puffs of smoke. Sure enough, he saw another group appear and moments later, more explosions assailed his beleaguered position.

“Damn!” yelled Corporal Parker. “We didn’t get them.”

“We pummeled that ridge!” uttered Corporal Adams angrily, as she rolled over onto her back staring up into the sky. “How can they still be there?”

“We can’t stay pinned down too much longer,” Stevens said over the comm channel. “We’re taking too many casualties.” Even a Type Four battlesuit could be damaged or destroyed by the powerful explosives the Kleese were lobbing at them.

On his HUD, which was displaying information on all four of the platoons involved in this part of the operation, he could see six glaring red icons and half a dozen amber. He was standing in a deep crater surrounded by several other Marines in Type Four suits. They were in a wide valley with some tall trees, a few large boulders, and no other cover.

“The Kleese on that ridge are dug in too deep. They must have a bunker there somewhere.” Stevens knew in order to have survived the explosives bombardment, the Kleese had to be under the ridge. The weapons they were using were probably automatics they’d placed on the ridge earlier.

“What are your orders, sir?” asked Ryan. He knew there was only one way to ensure the Kleese on the ridge were eliminated. He wondered if Major Stevens was about to give the order to use the Type Four battlesuits’ most powerful weapon.

“Use a suit nuke and level that ridge!”

Ryan turned pale at actually hearing the order. The suit nukes were the most powerful weapon he had at his disposal. He’d never given the order to use one in combat before or even seen one used. Taking a deep breath, he activated a personal communications channel between himself and Corporal Lauren Adams.

“Corporal Adams, we need to clear that ridge of Kleese.”

“Yes, sir,” Lauren replied. She had gotten up and was standing behind a large tree firing RG explosives rounds at the base of the ridge. “We’ll have to go up that damn hill to do it and we’re going to be highly exposed. We’ll lose some people.”

“No!” answered Ryan sharply. “I’m using my neural implant to activate the nuke firing tube on the back of your suit. I want you to place one of your warheads directly on the top of that ridge.”

“A nuke?” stammered Lauren, turning to look in the direction she knew the lieutenant was. This was an order she hadn’t been expecting. Each Type Four battlesuit had two of the small nukes in a special tube on the back. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Ryan answered, as an explosion threw more dirt and rubble into the crater he was crouched in. “The Kleese are obviously inside a bunker buried beneath that ridge. It’s going to take a nuke to clear them out. There’s no other way.”

Lauren closed her eyes and nodded to herself. If the troop assault ship Argyle was still in orbit, they could’ve called down a railgun strike to take out the hill. However, the Argyle and the rest of the fleet had withdrawn due to heavy Kleese pressure. She knew somewhere up in space a battle was taking place, which could very well determine their survival. If the Kleese won, then none of the Marines down on the planet would be going home.

Accessing her neural implant, she prepared the center tube on the back of her suit to fire. Using the targeting scanner in her suit helmet, she fed in the coordinates of the area on the ridge she wanted the small nuke to obliterate. She took her time to ensure there were no mistakes.

“We’re firing a nuke!” Ryan broadcast to everyone over his suit comm.

“There will be a concussion from the blast, which will strike us,” added Major Stevens. “Our suits are designed to withstand it. Everyone go to ground and dim the visors of your helmets.”

“Do a ten count, Corporal Adams,” Ryan ordered, as he hunkered down in his crater. “Then fire the nuke.”

“Wow!” spoke Alexander excitedly after hearing Lauren was going to fire a nuke. “I wish I’d been chosen to fire one of those babies. I’ve been itching to launch one ever since I found out our suits are equipped with them.” He was speaking to Lauren over the private channel the two maintained. They were close friends and Alexander wouldn’t mind being more than that, but he knew Lauren wasn’t interested, at least not yet.

“Just get down,” replied Lauren, glancing over toward Alexander, who was in a kneeling position. “You don’t want to glow in the dark, do you?”

Adjusting her comm, Lauren began counting down from ten. When she reached zero, she concentrated and the neural implant in her brain transmitted the signal to the tube controlling the nuke. She felt a slight bump, as the suit sent the small warhead flying upward and toward its designated target. “Nuke away,” Lauren called out as she threw herself to the ground. She wanted to have kids someday and had no plans on being exposed to a burst of hard radiation.

Several moments later, there was a brilliant flash as the small fusion device detonated just above the ridge. Rock, soil, trees, and brush were instantly incinerated as temperatures in the millions of degrees pummeled the ground. The rock and soil seemed to just boil away. The blast wave from the explosion traveled outward, knocking down trees and stirring up a cloud of dust.

Ryan felt the ground shake and, for a brief moment, the sky seemed to light up. Then the blast wave hit and he was hammered with more debris. The trees swayed from the blast and several came crashing to the ground. A few more minutes passed and everything seemed to quiet down. Looking up, he saw a small mushroom cloud rising from where the small ridge had once been. He knew the cloud was caused by superheated air rising upward from the blast.

“Kleese are dead!” declared Corporal Parker as he stood up and brushed off his battlesuit. “I think we cooked their arachnid asses.”

“Radiation seems to be minimal,” reported Sergeant Casey Hunter. She was now standing with several other Marines staring at the small mushroom cloud billowing upward where the ridge once was. “We should be able to resume our advance shortly.”

“We were told there would be no radiation,” Major Stevens spoke over the general comm frequency. “Remember, these nukes were designed by the Kiveans for maximum destruction with minimal radiation.” He had all the confidence in the world in the highly intelligent alien race, which had taken up residence in one of the asteroids in the solar system.

“The Kiveans are brilliant,” added Private Mary Hatterson. Mary was a clone just like Casey and being such was very familiar with the Kiveans.

“We’ll give it twenty minutes and then we’ll advance,” Major Stevens announced over the general comm channel. “Everyone keep an eye out for any movement on what’s left of the ridge.” He didn’t see how anything, not even the Kleese, could have withstood the nuke.

“Any word from the fleet?” asked Lieutenant Brice Felton on the command channel. The tone of his voice indicated great concern over their current situation.

Felton was on Ryan’s left flank and Lieutenant Autumn Guthrie was on his right. Major Stevens and the reserve platoon were in the rear in a support position.

“No,” replied Stevens. His command suit was capable of reaching the Argyle anywhere in the system while the coms in the lieutenants’ command suits were limited to low orbit only. “Not since the Zaltule battlecruisers forced our fleet to withdraw. I don’t believe the Kleese ships knew we’d already landed. When the Argyle was withdrawing, Commander Anton indicated that the entire Kleese fleet was in pursuit.”

“So, what are we going to do?” asked Autumn worriedly. She’d lost two of her Marines in the brief fight with the Kleese, who had been embedded on the ridge.

“We make sure that ridge is clear and then proceed to our main objective,” replied Stevens.

They were on the nonaligned world of Diadem, which up until now had refused to join the Alliance. The Zaltule had invaded Diadem two months back, forcing its defending fleet to withdraw rather than face destruction. The admiral of the fleet had fled to Alliance space and requested assistance in removing the Zaltule from their star system. If the Alliance was successful, the admiral guaranteed Diadem would join the Alliance.

After some discussion, the Alliance had formed a fleet and sent it to free the planet. If they could drive the Kleese from Diadem there were several other nonaligned worlds close by that might be inclined to join. Everything had gone well at first with the few Kleese ships in orbit leaving immediately upon detecting the large inbound Alliance fleet. However, a few hours later, the Kleese had responded with a surprisingly large warfleet, dropping into the system and forcing the Alliance to temporarily withdraw until additional reinforcements could be summoned. The Kleese fleet had not gone into orbit as expected but had set out in pursuit of the Alliance ships.

“What if the Kleese return before our fleet does?” asked Brice with concern in his voice. He knew the Zaltule could bombard them from orbit. The Type Four battlesuits would give them very little protection from such an attack.

“That’s why we need to take our primary objective,” answered Stevens grimly. “If we hold the planet’s primary spaceport I doubt the Kleese will want to see it destroyed. Perhaps we can buy time until the fleet returns.”

The comm channel became silent as the three lieutenants thought over Stevens’ words. They knew they had no other real option. On the far side of the spaceport, there were another four hundred Marines in Type Three battlesuits. The two groups of Marines were supposed to meet up at the space complex.

-

Admiral Adamson studied the tactical screen carefully as the Zaltule warships began dropping out of Fold Space. He was opposed by nearly twelve hundred of the deadly three-kilometer wide ships in the form of a massive disk. Their hulls were covered in weapons emplacements with pulse fusion batteries and energy turrets everywhere. Hundreds of small hatches hid sublight antimatter missiles ready to be launched at a moment’s notice. Unlike the larger Kleese exploration cruisers, these ships were designed for war and there were no large training facilities or holding areas for conscripts. The entire ship was filled with power systems and narrow corridors, which would make it nearly impossible for a conscript in a battlesuit to traverse. These ships were designed for fleet battles and planetary bombardment.

“We must have pissed that Zaltule Overlord off,” commented Colonel Wade Nelson as he gazed at the numerous red threat icons appearing on the screen. He’d hoped the Zaltule fleet wouldn’t follow them. “We can’t fight a fleet that large.”

Over the past six months, they had worked hard adding new worlds to the Alliance. Hyram Blake, Earth’s main negotiator, had been traveling from world to world seeking to strengthen the growing Alliance. So far, the Alliance had twenty-seven worlds committed to resisting the Kleese. All of the worlds were high-tech planets with technology or parts of technologies that not even the Kleese possessed.

The Kiveans, Talts, and Deltons were working with human engineers back in the solar system to combine much of this technology into a new breed of warship, one that would be extremely deadly to the Kleese. They just needed time to finish the design and get the new class of warships into production. After the fierce battle in the solar system, the Kleese had been relatively quiet for a number of months. Now they’d returned with a vengeance.

“I have over seven hundred ships to fight these Zaltule,” Adamson said in a grim voice, looking over at Wade. “Two hundred of them are assault ships and won’t be very useful against these Zaltule battlecruisers unless we can knock their shields down.”

Wade remained silent. He knew they couldn’t afford to lose this Alliance fleet. There were three other smaller fleets operating in the Alliance patrolling the borders of their self-proclaimed territory to ensure Kleese aggression was held to a minimum. This was their main battle fleet and had to be preserved at all costs.

“I have the Diadem Admiral on the comm,” reported Lieutenant Emma Travers. “He says in the face of such a massive Kleese fleet he does not expect us to sacrifice our ships in a hopeless battle.”

“Nevertheless, we will engage the Kleese,” Admiral Adamson replied in a grave voice. “They must know attacking a nonaligned world will have serious consequences.”

“You’re going to bloody their nose,” Wade said in sudden understanding.

“If a Kleese has a nose,” Adamson replied with a nod. “We’ll advance and engage them long enough to inflict sufficient damage on their fleet to give them pause. Perhaps enough to withdraw back to where they’ve been hiding for the last six months.”

Wade nodded. He agreed with Adamson’s strategy. The Kleese must learn there would be resistance to all of their attacks in or near Alliance space. Wade just hoped they didn’t lose too many ships teaching the Kleese this lesson. He was also anxious to return to Diadem and rescue the Marines they’d left behind.

“All ships, prepare to engage,” ordered Admiral Adamson over the fleet’s general communication frequency. “Keep your Fold Space Drives charged and ready to activate at my command.” Ships in Fold Space couldn’t be hit by enemy fire due to the speeds they traveled. Turning toward the helm, he continued. “Lieutenant Martin, plot an intercept course with the Kleese fleet and transmit it to all of our ships.”

“Stand by to fire weapons,” ordered Commander Sandra Shepherd, as she stepped over behind Tactical. “Target a Zaltule warship with our particle beam cannons and then follow up with our sublight antimatter missiles. Let’s see if we can punch a missile through one of the holes generated by the particle beams.”

“We can do that,” responded Lieutenant Summers confidently. “Let’s go kill a Zaltule battlecruiser!”

The Alliance fleet accelerated toward the Kleese. The Kleese fleet was quickly forming up into one of their standard attack formations. This would be a battle of Sampson against Goliath.

-

“The Alliance fleet is attacking,” reported Minor Overlord Gareth in surprise as he saw the enemy ships rushing toward the Zaltule fleet on the ship’s main tactical screen.

“They rush to their deaths,” replied Supreme Military Overlord Harmock from the top of the Command Pedestal. He moved his six legs and leaned forward, studying the sensor screens. His multifaceted eyes confirmed what Gareth had reported. “We shall allow them to come to us and then destroy them. All ships are to standby to fire pulse fusion beams and antimatter missiles en mass.”

Harmock gazed at the tactical screen, noting the human ships scattered throughout the attacking formation. Those ships would possess particle beams and would be the most deadly. Quickly passing on additional orders, he designated them as priority targets. His entire fleet had been updated with better energy shields while at the trading station in Sector Twelve. It was technology garnered from some of the conquered nonaligned worlds; technology he would now put to use to defeat the troublesome humans and their allies.

-

Admiral Adamson watched the tactical screen closely as they neared the waiting Kleese fleet. “They seem very confident,” he spoke with a hint of unease in his voice. He had expected the Kleese to respond to the approaching Alliance fleet. All they’d done was hold their position and formation, making very few adjustments.

“Communication intercepts indicate their Supreme Military Overlord is in command of this fleet,” Commander Sandra Shepherd said, as her eyes shifted to the admiral. “This is the same Overlord that attacked the solar system and is responsible for the deaths on Mars.”

Adamson nodded as his eyes hardened. Over six hundred thousand humans had died when the antimatter missiles struck Mars Central, including the planet’s governor, Alex Scott. It had been a devastating loss to the struggling human survivors.

“Contact the Argyle and inform Commander Anton that his mission is a go.”

“Sending message,” Lieutenant Travers responded, as she sent the prearranged message.

“Argyle and her escorts are entering Fold Space,” reported Lieutenant Lash, as he saw the five ships vanish from his sensor screens. The large troop assault ship had four light cruisers as escorts.

“Do you think they’ll be able to pull our Marines off the planet?” asked Commander Shepherd. She was concerned that as soon as the Kleese realized some ships had left the Alliance fleet formation they might guess where they had gone and what their mission was.

“It won’t take long to evacuate the Marines,” responded Wade with a frown on his face. It was a relief that the Argyle was on her way and would soon have Ryan and the other Marines safely off the planet.

He was disappointed they wouldn’t be able to free the Diadem’s home world so they could join the Alliance. When they returned to Lanolth, where the fleet was based, they would have to come up with a new plan to push the Kleese out of the nonaligned system.

“Admiral,” interrupted Lieutenant Lash from his sensor console. “Six Kleese battlecruisers have just jumped into Fold Space. They’re headed toward the Diadem system.”

“Damn!” uttered Commander Shepherd, shaking her head in dismay. The Argyle and her four light cruiser escorts would be no match against the superior firepower the Zaltule ships could bring to bear. “Should we dispatch a battlecruiser?”

“Yes,” replied Adamson, hating to weaken his fleet any further. “Order the Falcon to proceed to Diadem to support the Argyle.” At least a battlecruiser would give the Argyle and her support ships a fighting chance and might allow them time to rescue the trapped Marines.

Wade knew Admiral Adamson was doing everything in his power to save the Marines on Diadem. It didn’t help matters that his brother, Lieutenant Ryan Nelson, was on the planet. At least Beth was safe back inside Vesta. Since she had resigned from the Marines, it had taken a load of worry off Wade’s mind. Now he only had to worry about his younger brother.

“Engagement range in eight minutes,” reported Lieutenant Lash.

“All weapons ready to fire,” added Lieutenant Kali Summers from Tactical as her hands flew over the complicated console. Two other officers were sitting next to her who were also responsible for the ship’s weapons as well as its energy screen.

Adamson watched the tactical screen closely as they drew ever nearer to the waiting Kleese fleet. Glancing up at one of the viewscreens, he could see a dark black disk ship waiting to open fire on his fleet. “Change fleet course to left axis thirty degrees and up axis sixty degrees,” ordered Adamson over the general fleet frequency. “All weapons to fire as we go up and over the Kleese formation. We’ll engage for two minutes and then enter Fold Space for the Diadem system.”

“We may not arrive in time to help the Argyle,” Wade pointed out. He knew while the Marines on the planet were important, the welfare of the Alliance fleet was even more so. It pained him to know they might not be able to rescue Ryan and his Marines.

“We’ll do our best,” promised Adamson. “We’re not going to leave anyone behind on my watch.”

“All weapons are powered up and the energy screen is at optimum,” reported Commandeer Shepherd from her position just behind Tactical.

“Engagement range!” called out Lieutenant Lash.

“All ships fire!” ordered Adamson, clenching his right hand into a tight fist.

From the Alliance ships particle beam fire and pulse fusion beams slammed into the upper quadrant of the Kleese fleet, striking energy screens causing them to erupt in a cascade of brilliant colors as the screens struggled to stay up under the ferocious bombardment. Energy beams and even a few ruby-red lasers also lit up the space between the two fleets.

“Firing sublight antimatter missiles,” uttered Summers in anticipation, as she saw the energy screen of the Kleese battlecruiser they were targeting flicker briefly.

Two missiles left the Constellation’s tubes and accelerated rapidly toward the Kleese vessel. One missile detonated its twenty-megaton warhead against the disk ship’s energy screen, but the second flashed through and exploded against the heavy armor of the warship’s hull. A massive explosion reverberated through the Zaltule warship, setting off numerous secondary explosions and hurling glowing debris into space. Inside the stricken Kleese ship, emergency bulkheads slammed shut as numerous compartments were opened to space.

“Keep firing our particle beam cannons!” ordered Commander Shepard, as she saw the Kleese energy shield falter and then go down. Her heart was hammering in her chest and her breathing rapid.

More sections of the Zaltule warship were blasted loose from the hull as the bright blue particle beams slashed into the hull of the ship. Then a massive explosion blew the ship in two as an antimatter missile from another Alliance vessel finished off the Kleese ship.

“Kleese battlecruiser is down,” spoke Lieutenant Lash with satisfaction in his voice.

“Switch to the next target,” ordered Commander Shepherd, her pulse still beating rapidly. She could feel the flow of adrenalin and the excitement flowing through her as she commanded the ship’s weapons.

“Light cruiser Ajax is down,” reported Lieutenant Lash. “Assault ships 436 and 462 are down.”

“We have numerous ships reporting damage,” added Lieutenant Travers from Communications.

“Nalton battlecruiser is down, Lanolthian battlecruiser is down, two Tureen battlecruisers are down, four Diadem battlecruisers are down,” Lash spoke in a rapid voice, knowing the Alliance fleet was being hurt by the deadly return fire from the Kleese.

“Seventy seconds to Fold Space,” reported Lieutenant Martin from the Helm. “Fold Space Drive is powered up and ready to initiate.”

On one of the main viewscreens, Wade watched as a human light cruiser let loose a broadside of every weapon it possessed at a Kleese warship. The ship scored several hits with their pulse fusion batteries and energy turrets, opening up glowing rents in the enemy battlecruiser’s hull.

Even as Wade watched, the Kleese ship retaliated, joined by several others. Powerful pulse fusion beams reached out and, after a moment of resistance, penetrated the weakening energy screen of the light cruiser. The top section of the ship exploded and debris started drifting away from the ship. Then an antimatter missile slammed into the stern of the vessel and the ship vanished in a fiery explosion.

“Light cruiser Odin is down,” spoke Lash, trying to keep his voice calm.

“Battlecruiser Arrow is reporting major damage. They’ve lost one of their reactors and barely have enough power to enter Fold Space,” reported Lieutenant Travers, glancing over at the admiral.

“Tell them to enter Fold Space now!” ordered Adamson not wanting to risk the cruiser suffering even more damage.

The Constellation shuddered violently as two antimatter missiles hit her energy shield, severely jarring the ship. The energy screen seemed to flicker for a brief moment and then returned to full power.

“Antimatter missiles impacted our energy screen,” Commander Shepherd reported, as she studied information on one of the tactical displays. “Minor damage to the hull at section nineteen, bulkhead twelve. No breach and the screen has returned to full strength.”

“Thirty seconds to Fold Space,” called out Lieutenant Martin, as he prepared to activate the ship’s drive.

-

Supreme Military Overlord Harmock glared in anger at a viewscreen as another of his battlecruisers was blown apart by human particle beam weapons. The battle had been as violent as he’d expected. Once again, he was becoming more convinced these humans were not vermin, but actual warriors worthy of fighting the Zaltule. It was a belief he knew should be best kept to himself, as the Kleese Council of Overlords would doubtlessly reject such a notion.

“We have a slight advantage over the Alliance fleet,” reported Gareth as he studied some data coming across a screen. “The Alliance fleet is losing two ships to every one that we lose.”

“Only because they have two hundred assault ships in their fleet,” responded Harmock in a cold voice. “If both fleets were even they would have us at a decisive disadvantage in firepower and advanced weaponry.”

“This Alliance is a growing threat to our empire,” proclaimed Gareth, his multifaceted eyes focusing on the Military Overlord. “We must find a way to eliminate it before it grows any further.”

“I have taken steps to ensure their eventual defeat,” Harmock said. He clinched the seven digits of his right hand into a fist, knowing only the humans stood between the Zaltule and galactic domination. Without the humans, the Alliance would fall apart.

The Warrior’s Fire shook suddenly and the lights in the Command Center seemed to dim. Harmock had to grab a console to avoid being knocked off the Command Pedestal.

“Particle beam hit,” reported one of the Kleese, standing in front of damage control. “The beam penetrated through twelve decks and we have multiple fires. Fire suppression equipment has failed in two compartments and I am opening them up to space to smother the flames.”

“The Alliance fleet is jumping into Fold Space,” reported Jalridd at the main sensor station. “Their course indicates they’re heading back to the Diadem system.”

“We shall follow,” commanded Harmock in a hard voice. “They’re returning to rescue the warriors they landed on the planet earlier. The small group of ships they dispatched prior to the battle will not be able to do so if the battlecruisers we sent in response reach the system in time.”

“We shall meet them in combat above the planet,” stated Gareth. “They shall know the wrath of the Zaltule, and we will eliminate this Alliance fleet.”

“They will not be successful in recovering their warriors,” predicted Harmock, nodding his triangular head in agreement. “I have already seen to that.”

A few minutes later, the Zaltule fleet began entering Fold Space in pursuit of the Alliance ships. Behind them, they left only wreckage and the dead from both fleets.

Chapter Two

Ryan scanned the spaceport ahead as his Marines slowly advanced. Since using the nuke on the ridge there had been no further resistance to their presence upon the planet. They were now nearing the spaceport boundary and everything seemed strangely quiet. It was as if the Kleese had suddenly vanished.

“I don’t like this,” mumbled Corporal Parker, as he paused next to a large tree, peering around it. His right hand went down to touch the Energy Lance fastened to his waist. He felt comfort knowing the lance could cut through almost anything except the composite material a Type Three or Type Four battlesuit was made of.

His tall six foot two frame was completely encased in the protective suit. The suit was black and gray with small red lights at the joints and other areas. It looked nimble and quick. The Type Four battlesuit was eight feet tall and made out of a new type of composite material even stronger and lighter than that of the Type Three suits. It allowed for greater flexibility in movement, which at times made the wearer almost forget that he or she was encased inside one. In addition, the Type Four suit was capable of operating in full combat conditions for nearly twenty hours before needing to be recharged. In non-combat situations, the suit could keep its wearer alive for well over a week. Antigravity plates in the feet of the suit could generate a repelling force, which allowed the Type Four battlesuit a limited flying ability.

“Neither do I,” replied Corporal Adams. Lauren had been having the same concerns. She paused and looked around using the enhanced vision her suit allowed. Nowhere did she see any indication of movement or danger. “Why fortify that ridge so heavily and then nothing between it and the spaceport?”

“Maybe they didn’t expect us to get past the ridge,” suggested Alexander. He held his RG rifle in his arms, feeling its comforting weight. The Type Four suits were tied into a neural processor inside the brain, which made the suit feel like a second layer of skin.

“Does anyone see any signs of movement?” asked Major Stevens over the general comm channel. He was fearful they might be walking into a trap and he only had four platoons of Marines with him.

“Everything seems quiet,” reported Lieutenant Felton.

“Same here,” added Lieutenant Guthrie.

Ryan was busily scanning the buildings on the spaceport with his suit’s enhanced vision optics. Nowhere did he see any sign of the Kleese or Kleese conscripts. It almost seemed as if the spaceport had been evacuated. Even the civilians who should be working there were missing.

“Nothing,” he reported over the com channel. “Could the Kleese have pulled out after we used the nuke on the ridge?”

He had already used his suit sensors to scan as much of the spaceport as possible. There were a few cargo and passenger ships sitting out on the blastcrete, but there were no Kleese ships. Ryan would have expected at least one assault ship to be parked on one of the landing pads.

“It’s possible,” Stevens replied though he doubted the Kleese would give up the spaceport without a fight. “The Kleese might have a smaller presence on the planet than we thought. It’s also possible the bunker beneath that ridge contained the majority of them. I want scouts sent ahead one hundred meters. Continue forward cautiously, use anything available for cover. Be aware the spaceport could be sown with hidden popup weapons. The Kleese seem to have a propensity for those things.”

“Popups,” moaned Alexander not liking the sound of that.

He recalled how many times he’d been shot by stunners on Charring Mountain during their training. While the stunners had been painful, the popups the Kleese used would be deadly. He looked over at Lauren, knowing she was probably thinking the same thing. Hell, they all probably were. Charring had spared no one the pain of those dreadful stunners. Even Lieutenant Nelson had been nailed a couple of times.

“If there are popups embedded in the blastcrete you’ll be a primary target,” Lauren teased. She knew how badly Alexander hated being stunned.

“Private Swen and Private Hatterson, you have the point,” called out Sergeant Casey Hunter. Casey was standing out in the open between two large trees staring at the waiting spaceport. “One hundred meters in front of the platoon and watch your asses. I don’t want any heroics. If you see the enemy, take cover immediately.” Casey was friends with most of the members of the platoon. They had been together for such a long time that it was inevitable friendships would form.

“Yes, Sergeant,” Hatterson replied and then motioned to Private Swen. “Come on Cameron, let’s get moving.”

Alexander watched the two battlesuits move out. He was relieved he and Lauren were no longer being chosen to scout ahead. Even so, he felt a little guilty at Cameron and Mary being stuck with the job. Anyone on scout duty was in elevated danger. They would be the first ones fired upon.

“Move out!” ordered Casey once she was satisfied the two scouts were sufficiently far enough ahead of the other Marines to give warning if the enemy were spotted.

For ten minutes they advanced, making slow progress as they used parked vehicles and buildings for protection while moving toward the center of the spaceport. At any moment they expected weapons fire to break out, but it remained quiet. The anxiety was rapidly increasing, as everyone knew the Kleese had to be here somewhere.

In the distance, the sudden roar of explosions suddenly erupted followed by heavy weapons fire. Everyone paused, looking about to see where the sound was coming from.

“The Marines on the far side of the spaceport have made contact,” Major Stevens informed everyone. “They’re pinned down.”

He’d been talking to the colonel in charge of the four hundred Marines in Type Three battlesuits, which had been advancing toward the spaceport from the other direction. The two groups were supposed to rendezvous at the tall Control Tower in the center of the space complex.

“Continue forward,” he ordered. If Colonel Stratford was meeting resistance than it was only reasonable to expect they would shortly.

Strangely enough, Stevens’ four platoons continued to advance with no opposition for another hundred meters. They were nearly to the Control Tower when weapons fire finally broke out, forcing them to take cover.

“I think the Kleese were depending on the weapon emplacements on the ridge to hold us back,” suggested Ryan as he took cover behind a small metal building. He could see weapons fire coming from several open windows midway up the tall tower.

“I think you’re right,” replied Stevens, agreeing with Ryan’s assessment of the situation. “Colonel Stratford says they didn’t encounter any resistance until they reached the periphery of the spaceport. He reports numerous embedded popups all along the boundary and, for the moment, his advance is stalled.”

Ryan pressed himself closer to the wall of the building he was using for protection as a number of RG rounds struck the wall near him. He glanced at his HUD, noting no one had been injured from the weapons fire.

“The remaining Kleese must be holed up in the Control Tower,” said Lieutenant Guthrie. She was crouched down on the blastcrete behind a large service vehicle. “If we can take them out, perhaps we can disable the popups holding up Colonel Stratford. The controls for them are probably in the tower somewhere.”

Major Stevens thought over Guthrie’s idea. He looked toward the Control Tower, noting the lack of cover for his Marines if they attempted to take it. They would have to traverse nearly one hundred and twenty meters of open space to reach the building. He also knew every moment he postponed the attack Stratford was suffering more casualties. With a deep sigh, he knew the decision was already made. “Lieutenants Nelson and Guthrie, prepare to advance. We need to take that Control Tower.”

“What about just blowing it up with our heavier explosive rounds?” suggested Lieutenant Felton. He was referring to the heavier rounds in the twin tubes on the back of the Type Four suits. “We wouldn’t risk taking any casualties that way.”

Stevens stepped out slightly into the open and used the advanced sensors in his suit to scan the Control Tower in more detail. It didn’t take him long to see that the building was composed of blastcrete with reinforced steel. It would take too long for their suit explosives to cause significant damage to the structure.

“Building’s reinforced with massive steel beams,” he informed the lieutenants. “We’ll hit them from two sides and try to overwhelm them. I do want explosive rounds placed through those windows up toward the top of the tower. Lieutenant Felton, I want your platoon to lay down covering fire for Nelson and Guthrie.”

Ryan looked intently at the tall structure. Near the very top were some heavily reinforced tinted windows, which overlooked the spaceport. Accessing his neural implant, he magnified the view in the visor of his helmet and studied the windows closely. They were too darkly tinted for him to get a good view of what was inside. He thought he could see some movement, but he wasn’t certain. There were four lower windows that RG fire was coming from.

“Sergeant Hunter, take Corporal Adams and put some RG rounds through those upper windows as well as the ones we’re receiving fire from. Corporal Parker, I want your squad hitting the main entrance. Blow it with explosive rounds and then go Kleese hunting. Take prisoners if possible but that’s not a priority. I’ll follow up with the rest of the platoon.”

Everyone quickly took their positions and, at a signal from Ryan, Sergeant Hunter’s squad began firing RG rounds at a blistering rate toward the windows. For a few moments the glass resisted, then it exploded inwards as it finally shattered.

“Explosive rounds!” yelled Casey as she fired two rounds through the now open windows.

The others in the squad fired too and in moments explosions reverberated inside the top of the Control Tower. Fire and black smoke billowed out of the windows. They then shifted their fire to the lower windows, placing explosive rounds through them also.

Without hesitation, the designated Marines made a run toward the main entrance of the tower. Explosive rounds hit the twin doors, blowing them open. Type Four battlesuits were capable of amazing speed. The Marines moved far faster than an Olympic sprinter. In moments, they reached the smoking doors and were inside.

“Spread out, stay in teams of two,” ordered Ryan as more Marines from Lieutenant Guthrie’s platoon entered behind them. “Find the stairs and let’s get moving. The sooner we can eliminate these Kleese, the sooner Colonel Stratford’s Marines can reinforce us.” Ryan knew this needed to be done quickly before the Kleese could recover from the attack.

“Found them!” yelled Alexander as he opened a wide door only to go flying backward, landing on the floor.

Half a dozen Kleese in dark black battlesuits came barreling out of the stairwell, their RG rifles firing on full automatic. Two Marines went down as armor piercing rounds stitched them across the chest; several others screamed as rounds penetrated their arms and legs.

“Zaltule!” yelled Ryan, recognizing the battlesuits the warrior caste of the Kleese preferred to wear.

Ryan thumbed his RG rifle to full automatic and began firing into the nearest Kleese. Other Marines had recovered from their initial shock at the sudden attack and were beginning to return fire. The large arachnids didn’t pause as they continued to lay a withering fire of armor piercing rounds into the Marines who had burst into the tower.

One and then two of the Zaltule collapsed to twitch upon the floor as their suits were penetrated by numerous RG rounds. The others continued firing, taking down more of the Marines.

“Surrender,” spoke one of the remaining Zaltule, who was slightly taller than the others. “Surrender and serve us and you will be allowed to live.”

Ryan heard more screams as other Marines were struck by Zaltule weapons fire, then he saw Casey and Lauren step inside the shattered doors of the Control Tower. Two more of the Zaltule fell to the floor, their blood gathering in dark pools beneath them.

“Get down!” he yelled as one of the two remaining Zaltule turned his RG rifle toward the door. Ryan swung his rifle over, targeting the Zaltule, and saw him go down as Alexander fired a series of rounds into the chest of the dangerous arachnid.

“Ryan!” yelled Lauren with deep concern in her voice.

The last Kleese went down under the fire of several Marines as Ryan turned to face the door. He knew something was wrong since Lauren had called him Ryan in a combat situation. He felt his heart skip a beat as he saw Casey slumped over against the wall with a growing red stain on the upper part of her battlesuit. On his HUD, he saw her icon had turned an alarming amber.

“Secure that stairwell!” he ordered as he rushed over toward Casey. He didn’t know what he would do if she was seriously injured. They’d grown extremely close over the last six months since the battle in the solar system.

“Casey?” Ryan asked as he knelt beside her, his eyes searching her visor.

“She’s hit right below her shoulder,” Lauren said as she checked Casey’s suit.

“I’ve activated the medical nanites,” Casey managed to croak out, as she opened her visor to look with pain-filled eyes at Ryan. She was breathing in long, hard gasps as if she were struggling for air. “This hurts like hell, but the suit’s starting to inject me with pain killers.”

Major Stevens stepped inside, looking at the carnage. There were a number of dead Marines, and some obviously injured, including Sergeant Hunter.

“Status!” he demanded, seeing Ryan bending over Casey. He knew Ryan and the sergeant were very close. The rules in the new solar system military were more tolerant when it came to fraternization between men and women.

“The bottom level is secure,” reported Ryan, standing back up. Casey seemed to have stabilized and was breathing more evenly. “We suffered four dead and eight injured. Six Zaltule rushed us out of the stairwell. They didn’t offer to surrender and we eliminated them.”

“Lieutenant Guthrie, get your Marines up to the upper levels and see if there are any more of these Zaltule,” ordered Stevens. It pained him to see the dead Marines; he’d seen enough death back in Tent City in the early days. It was something he would never get used to. “Lieutenant Felton, secure the perimeter until we’ve confirmed all the Kleese have been killed.”

“Good thing Harnett developed these medical nanites for our suits,” Alexander said as he strolled over to look down worriedly at Casey. “All the injured should be fine though several of them are going to be sore for a few days.”

“Tell me about it,” groaned Casey as she sat up with Lauren assisting her.

“Zaltule,” commented Major Stevens, turning his attention back to Ryan and Casey. “They’re trying to reassert themselves again after we defeated them the last time.”

“They had a big enough fleet,” replied Ryan, gazing around at the destruction the Marines and the Kleese had caused to the bottom floor of the Control Tower. “Have you heard from the Argyle?”

“Yes,” Stevens said, nodding his head. “She’ll be in orbit shortly. We’re being evacuated while the Alliance fleet and the Zaltule fleet fight it out in a system a few light years distant. Admiral Adamson is trying to buy enough time for the Argyle to get us off the planet.”

“Tower is clear,” reported Lieutenant Guthrie. “All we found were dead Zaltule in the upper level and several lower ones. The explosive rounds did their job. We also found what looked like the control mechanism for the popups and destroyed it.”

“That’s good,” replied Stevens pleased the tower was secure. He had just received a message from Colonel Stratford confirming the popups had stopped firing and his Marines were advancing once more.

Ryan was relieved. They would soon be off this planet though it meant they’d failed in their mission to liberate the planet from the Kleese occupation. At least once they were back on board the Argyle, Casey and the other wounded could spend time in proper medical quarters where they could finish their recovery. Some would probably need a second injection of the medical nanites to finish healing their injuries.

“Crap!” Stevens said suddenly over the command frequency.

“What is it?” asked Ryan, sensing the sudden concern in the major’s voice.

“Kleese warships have dropped out of Fold Space and are closing on the Argyle. Drop ships are on the way down. I’m instructing them to pick up Colonel Stratford’s Marines first and then they can return for us.”

Ryan felt a sudden chill sweep over him. If Kleese warships were closing on the Argyle and her support ships, there was a good chance there wouldn’t be time for a second pickup.

“We better fortify our position as much as possible,” Ryan said as he looked around. They could position Marines in some of the surrounding buildings and here in the Control Tower. The tower’s thick blastcrete and steel walls would offer some protection.

-

Commander Anton gazed at the tactical screen with worry on his face. They’d gone into orbit around Diadem with their four light cruisers as escorts. Now alarms were sounding on the sensor console indicating Kleese warships had been detected.

“Kleese battlecruisers are closing fast,” reported Ensign Smothers from his sensor console. “I’m detecting six of them, and they’ll be within combat range in twelve minutes.”

“That’s not enough time to get the drop ships down to the planet and back up for even one trip,” stated Anton as he weighed his options. None of them were good. “The escorts will need to buy us some time.”

“They won’t stand a chance against six Zaltule battlecruisers,” spoke up Lieutenant Myers, the executive officer. “The Zaltule will blow right through them!”

“New contact,” called out Ensign Smothers excitedly. “It’s the Falcon!”

“Thank God,” Lieutenant Myers said with sudden relief spreading across his face. The addition of a battlecruiser to the four escorts might just buy them the time they needed to complete the rescue.

“She’s coming in fast,” Smothers added as the brilliant green icon on his sensor screen rapidly neared the Argyle.

“I’m ordering our escorts to join the Falcon,” said Anton, drawing in a deep breath. “Perhaps we can get our people off the planet after all.”

-

Commander Kriss Melvin watched the tactical screen as the Argyle’s four light cruisers formed up with his battlecruiser. They needed to buy the Argyle forty minutes to allow them enough time to evacuate the trapped Marines.

“Put us between the Kleese and the Argyle,” he ordered the ensign at the Helm. “All ships to fire particle beams on the lead Zaltule battlecruiser. We’ll take them out one by one.”

“There are six of them,” warned Lieutenant Maria Knox from her sensor console.

“We’re just trying to buy some time,” replied Melvin, folding his arms across his chest. “If we can take out the lead ship perhaps the rest will hesitate in their advance.”

Maria nodded, but she doubted if taking out the lead ship would slow down the Zaltule. The Zaltule were warriors and she doubted the loss of one ship would faze them much. One battlecruiser and four lights weren’t going to stop them.

“Pyramid formation P-4,” ordered Commander Melvin over the com to the four light cruiser commanders. “The Falcon will take the apex. All ships fire particle beams on the lead battlecruiser.”

The five ships quickly formed up into a five pointed pyramid formation with the Falcon leading and accelerated toward the six inbound Zaltule warships.

“Weapons range!” called out Lieutenant Erica Smith. “Locking on with particle beam cannons.”

“Fire!” ordered Melvin, leaning forward in his command chair, wanting to get in the first shots.

From the Falcon and the four accompanying light cruisers, six beams of bright blue energy flashed out to impact the energy screen on the lead Kleese battlecruiser. The screen exploded in a myriad of flashes where the beams struck, then two beams penetrated and smashed into the armored hull. The light cruisers turned broadside and opened fire with their main batteries, quickly scoring several hits with their pulse fusion beams and energy turrets.

The enemy battlecruiser’s energy screen wavered and then collapsed as a massive explosion blew a jagged hole in the cruiser’s hull, opening up a huge section to the vacuum of space. Seeing the opportunity, one of the light cruisers hit the Zaltule ship with an antimatter missile, blowing it apart.

“Battlecruiser is down,” spoke Lieutenant Knox breathlessly.

“Light cruiser Taggart is reporting heavy damage,” reported Communications. “They’re requesting permission to withdraw.”

“Taggart is down,” called out Lieutenant Knox, as the green icon representing the support ship suddenly swelled up and vanished from her screen.

“Target the next Kleese ship,” commanded Melvin, feeling shaken from the sudden loss of the light cruiser and its crew of two hundred and twenty.

“More contacts,” reported Knox with a deep sigh of relief. “It’s the Alliance fleet!”

Melvin felt as if a huge load had been lifted off his shoulders. With the rest of the fleet, they would make short work of the remaining Zaltule ships and complete the rescue of the Marines on Diadem.

“Hold,” yelled Knox in a panicked voice. “I’m picking up more ships dropping out of Fold Space. It’s the Zaltule warfleet! They must have followed Admiral Adamson.”

“Admiral Adamson is ordering us to fall back to the planet to cover the Argyle,” reported the Communications officer. “The Argyle is to recover her drop ships immediately and jump into Fold Space; we’re to escort her back to Lanolth.”

Melvin turned pale at the implications. There was no way the Argyle could pull all the stranded Marines off the planet in that short a time period. Some were going to be left behind.

-

“The Kleese are going to beat us to the planet,” Commander Shepherd reported as she studied the data on the tactical displays. “The Argyle has to be out of orbit and into Fold Space in eight minutes or the Zaltule will be in engagement range.”

“How many Marines will be left behind?” demanded Wade, fearing the worst. How could he return to Vesta and leave Ryan on Diadem?

“Commander Anton isn’t sure,” reported Lieutenant Travers. “Some of the drop ships are reportedly only half loaded. He’s sending down a cargo drop ship with some additional equipment for the Marines who are going to be left behind. It’s going down on automatic pilot.”

“How soon before he’s ready to leave orbit?” demanded Admiral Adamson. “The Zaltule are getting damn close.”

He felt like a huge fist was squeezing his heart. They were going to leave some Marines trapped on Diadem. There was an unspoken rule that no one was ever left behind, but to obey that rule would mean the sacrifice of most if not all of his fleet. At the moment, Adamson couldn’t bear to look at Colonel Nelson, knowing his order might have just sentenced the colonel’s younger brother to death.

“The Falcon and the three remaining light cruisers have reached the Argyle,” reported Commander Shepherd. “The pursuing five Zaltule battlecruisers are right behind them. They may have to hold them off until the Argyle is ready to leave orbit.”

-

Drop ships and cargo drop ships blasted up into space, frantically trying to reach the Argyle before the main Kleese fleet arrived. Several of the pilots had to be ordered off the planet, as they were hesitating since their ships were not completely full.

Aboard the Argyle, the returning drop ships were quickly unloaded, and one of the cargo drop ships was hurriedly crammed with emergency supplies the Marines still down on the planet might need.

“Falcon and the light cruisers are engaged with the inbound Zaltule battlecruisers,” reported Lieutenant Myers. “Commander Melvin says we need to be gone yesterday.”

“All the drop ships are aboard,” added Ensign Smothers. “The cargo drop ship has been launched and is descending on auto pilot.”

“Get us out of orbit and into Fold Space,” ordered Commander Anton, his eyes focused on the blue-white planet. He couldn’t believe they were leaving so many Marines behind. Both of his hands were clenched into tight fists as he felt like pounding the armrests on his command chair in frustration.

The Argyle quickly accelerated with the Falcon and light cruisers giving covering fire. In just a few moments, the troop transport entered the safety of Fold Space with the Falcon and cruisers following close behind.

-

“Argyle and Falcon are safely in Fold Space,” reported Commander Shepherd, looking over at Admiral Adamson and Colonel Nelson. “A number of Colonel Stratford’s Marines, as well as all of Major Stevens’ are still on the planet.”

“I’m sorry, Wade,” Adamson said in a somber voice, finally looking over at the colonel. “We can’t risk the fleet.”

“We don’t leave our people behind,” Wade said in a soft voice, knowing there really was nothing they could do. How could he ever explain to Beth and his parents they had abandoned Ryan on an alien planet?

“We’ll put together a bigger fleet and return,” Adamson promised with fire in his eyes. “We won’t allow the Zaltule to stay on Diadem. We’ll come back for our Marines.”

Wade was silent as Admiral Adamson gave the orders for the Alliance fleet to enter Fold Space and head for Lanolth. He watched a viewscreen, which showed the dwindling blue-white planet. Then the Constellation entered Fold Space and the planet vanished from the screen.

“Forgive me, Ryan,” Wade whispered as his heart suddenly felt empty and a knot formed in the pit of his stomach. “I’ll return for you, I promise.”

Admiral Adamson stood silently knowing Wade was suffering. Colonel Nelson had sacrificed so much for the human race and now he might be making another great sacrifice. Adamson greatly feared that when they returned to Diadem, the trapped Marines would no longer be alive. He would spend a sleepless night in his quarters knowing he’d probably sentenced those brave Marines to death.

Chapter Three

Ryan was standing outside the Control Tower gazing up into space, knowing they were truly alone. The fleet had left, stranding them here on Diadem, a planet soon to be under control of the orbiting Kleese fleet. What that meant for the stranded Marines was a question yet to be answered. The cargo drop ship had successfully set down on a landing pad on the spaceport and was in the process of being unloaded. At least they would have sufficient ammunition if it came to a long, drawn out battle.

“What now, Lieutenant?” asked Corporal Adams.

Lauren had just finished checking on Casey and the other wounded. Their suits had all injected them with pain meds and they were resting comfortably. The medical nanites were rapidly repairing their bodies and most of the Marines would soon be back to normal. The nanites could regenerate tissue and bone and when they were done, not even a scar would remain.

“Colonel Stratford and Major Stevens are discussing our situation. The cargo drop ship brought four hover tanks as well as some charging generators for our suits.”

Lauren nodded. The hover tanks were equipped with powerful energy cannons as the main armament. They also had two secondary railgun cannons and dual explosive launchers. If they needed some heavy firepower, they would serve very well. The energy cannons could also be used to shoot down inbound shuttles. Lauren felt very uneasy about their situation. She’d discussed it briefly with Alexander and they both felt they were royally screwed. If the Zaltule came down in large numbers, the Marines wouldn’t last long.

With a deep sigh, Lauren looked out across the spaceport. For the moment, everything seemed peaceful and quiet. A number of Marines were moving around setting up defensive positions and shifting equipment to serve as barriers. It would be futile, but they should be able to give a good accounting of themselves. She felt cold inside knowing that her life as well as the lives of her friends were now probably numbered in mere hours.

“Ryan,” Lauren said softly, raising her visor. “If I haven’t said it before, it’s been a pleasure serving with you. I just wish things had turned out differently, especially for you and Casey.”

“It’s not over yet,” answered Ryan, opening his own visor. He took a deep breath knowing Lauren and the others were probably frightened about what was to come.

Lieutenant Guthrie walked over to where Ryan and Lauren were standing. She had her visor open and you could see her eyes as well as a hint of blonde hair. “Major Stevens says the Kleese are just sitting in orbit, not doing anything.”

“Maybe they’ll stay there,” suggested Lauren hopefully.

“I doubt it,” replied Autumn with a deep sigh. “The major wants to make sure everyone gets full energy charges for their suits, as well as plenty of ammunition. He also wants the hover tanks hidden so the Kleese won’t attempt to take them out from orbit.”

Ryan nodded as he watched several platoons of Colonel Stratford’s Marines appear. The colonel’s Marines were in Type Three battlesuits, which towered over the smaller Type Fours though in combat the Type Fours were far more capable. However, it took a special type of soldier to be able to handle one of the newer suits. Learning how to deal with the neural implant was a critical component to being able to operate one.

“We have seventy-eight Marines left in our four platoons plus one hundred and forty-seven of Colonel Stratford’s people,” Autumn continued. “At least we’ll give the Kleese one hell of a fight unless they blast us from orbit.”

“That’s why we’re staying here on the spaceport,” Ryan replied as he looked upward, noticing how clear the sky was. It reminded him of the sky back home in Phoenix. But Phoenix was long gone, buried beneath several feet of snow and volcanic ash. “Major Stevens feels the Kleese will be hesitant about damaging it, as they might want it for their own use.”

“It’s sound reasoning if they want to continue to trade with Diadem and take advantage of their advanced technology,” responded Autumn. “But these are Zaltule we’re dealing with; who knows for sure how they think?”

A noise in the distance interrupted them, and turning they saw several of the hover tanks come around one of the larger buildings. They were pulling several antigravity sleds full of needed supplies as well as suit recharging generators.

“Corporal Adams, assign some Marines to getting that equipment unloaded. Let’s get those generators running so we can get everyone’s suits charged before the Kleese come down.”

“I’ll send some of my people to help,” Autumn said as she turned to go back inside the Control Tower. Both of her sergeants were inside and she also wanted to check once more on the wounded. They would need everyone in the coming battle.

“She’s a good officer,” commented Lauren, as she watched the other lieutenant leave. Then she turned to face Ryan with deep concern in her light green eyes. “We’re not getting out of this, are we?”

Ryan hesitated for a moment. He knew the odds stacked against them were nearly insurmountable. “I don’t know,” he answered truthfully. “Wade was aboard the Constellation and he wouldn’t have left us if there was any other choice. If the Kleese stay in orbit, Admiral Adamson will need a much larger fleet to drive them off, and that might take a while to gather.”

“How long?” Lauren asked afraid of the answer.

“Several weeks at least,” Ryan replied in a softer voice.

“We won’t be alive in several weeks,” Lauren said, feeling her heart pounding in her chest and a cold chill running down her back. “We’ll die here on Diadem.”

Ryan looked down and didn’t reply. He knew Lauren was probably right.

-

On board the Constellation, Wade was sitting quietly in his quarters looking at a family photo. It was a picture of Ryan and his parents at Ryan’s graduation ceremony from the Academy on Vesta. They’d all been extremely proud of Ryan’s accomplishment graduating near the top of his class.

Wade leaned back in the chair he was sitting in, wondering how he was going to explain to his parents they had left Ryan and his Marines stranded on an alien world with the Kleese going into orbit. Even worse, how was he going to explain what they had done to Beth? It was an unspoken oath that they never left anyone behind. However, in this instance rescuing the Marines might have endangered the entire Alliance fleet under Admiral Adamson’s command, a fleet they couldn’t afford to lose at this juncture of the new Alliance.

Wade let out a deep frustrated breath. He’d already done the math. It would take them six days to reach Lanolth, at least another ten to gather a fleet of sufficient strength and then another six days to return. There was no way the Kleese would allow human Marines to remain alive on Diadem for twenty-two days. Wade clinched his fist, wishing there was some way for him to trade places with Ryan.

He remembered the last time he’d spoken to his brother. They’d been at Lanolth and Ryan had introduced him to Casey. Wade could tell by the smile on Ryan’s face that the young woman was very special. Now both were trapped far away from home with no hope of rescue.

He was considering going to speak to Admiral Adamson and ask that he be given command of the Argyle and allowed to go back to Diadem. They could hide in a nearby system, monitor the Diadem system, and if given the opportunity perhaps conduct a rescue of the trapped Marines. It was a long shot, but Wade was determined to ask. If he didn’t, he would always second guess himself for the rest of his life.

-

Ryan was sitting next to Casey and both of them had their visors open. They’d recharged their suits and had full load outs of ammunition.

“We should have done it,” spoke Casey in a low and sad voice, her eyes gazing woefully at Ryan.

“Done it?” asked Ryan, feeling confused. “Done what?” He had no idea what Casey was talking about.

“Don’t be silly,” Casey said suddenly smiling and giggling. “We should have had sex at least once.” Being a clone that was one human act she had never experienced; now she probably never would.

“If we get out of this, at least I’ll have something to look forward to,” Ryan said, smiling back. “I’m going to remember what you just said.”

He and Casey had been dating for months under Lauren’s careful supervision. Lauren had been fearful that since Casey was a clone and had only experienced a few years of actual life the powerful emotions generated by being in love could easily get her into trouble. Lauren had even taught Casey how to dress provocatively without being too big of a flirt. Ryan had never considered pushing the issue. When the time was right for the two of them to take their relationship to a more intimate level, he’d always felt they would know.

At least his parents had gotten to know Casey and accept her. It had been a difficult thing for Ryan’s mother because at first she’d been highly upset her son was dating a clone. However, as his mom had gotten to know Casey she had come to accept her as a human being with emotions and desires. His mother had even promised Casey she would teach her how to cook some of Ryan’s favorite foods when they had more time.

“We’ll get out of this,” promised Ryan. He and Casey had so much to look forward to and he couldn’t imagine it ending here on this alien world.

“I hope so,” replied Casey softly. She couldn’t imagine her life continuing without Ryan in it. She felt great sadness knowing their time together might soon be ending.

-

Lauren was standing talking to Alexander and a few others. They had their visors open eating some rations, knowing it was hard telling when they might be able to eat real food again. The suits had a food tube, but it was a liquid paste with a very bland taste. She looked over at Ryan and Casey, feeling remorseful everything had to end this way. Under her guidance, Casey had learned how to handle herself as an attractive young woman. Casey had always been a good Marine, but she failed miserably when she tried to exert her female charms and the sergeant definitely had the body assets.

“Everyone get tight!” ordered Major Stevens over the general comm frequency. “The Kleese are coming down!”

Marines instantly shut their visors and went fully on suit life support. They grabbed their RG rifles and energy cannons and raced to their assigned positions.

“I’ve got to go,” Ryan said as he stood up releasing Casey’s hand.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Casey said as she shut her visor and cradled her RG rifle in her arms. “We have an important date when this is over.”

“I won’t,” began Ryan when he suddenly felt a strangely familiar pain sweep across him. He felt as if he was about to pass out.

“Crap,” uttered Alexander, recognizing the all too familiar feeling. “Stunners!”

Ryan fell against the wall and then slid down next to Casey. As he lost consciousness, his last thought was wondering why the Zaltule would be using stunners. Then blackness took over as he passed out.

-

Harmock nodded to himself in satisfaction. The landing shuttles were reporting all the humans had succumbed to the stun beams. Everything was going according to plan.

“Call in the exploration cruiser,” he ordered.

While at the trading station in Sector Twelve, he’d ordered the Kleese stationed there to provide one of their exploration ships for a special project he had planned. Now that plan had succeeded and he had several hundred of these mysterious humans he could take as captives and study. Perhaps in this way, the Zaltule would come to better understand how this species had become so dangerous in such a short time.

“Message sent,” Minor Overlord Gareth replied. “It will be here within the hour.”

“Excellent,” Harmock spoke. His multifaceted eyes turned to the main viewscreens showing the planet below. Once his human captives were secure, it would be time to pay a visit to the Kleese Council of Overlords. New and more powerful ships would soon be coming out of the Zaltule shipyards where Minor Overlord Kaluse was overseeing the next generation of Zaltule battlecruisers. Once a sufficient number of these ships were complete, he would sweep through the remaining nonaligned worlds until all owed their allegiance to the Kleese Empire. None, not even the humans, would stand in his way.

-

Wade was aboard the Argyle in the Command Center. The one thousand-meter long troop assault ship was just three light years from the system of Diadem. Admiral Adamson had agreed to send the Argyle and a few escorts back to watch the system just in case an opportunity for rescue occurred. The battlecruiser Falcon, four light cruisers, and eight assault ships had accompanied the transport. It was a small fleet considering what was waiting for them in the Diadem system. However, if the Kleese left, even for a few hours, the fleet was prepared to perform a snatch and go operation. Commander Anton was convinced he could rescue the remaining Marines if he just had a twenty-minute window.

For the last three days, a light cruiser had been sent to the far reaches of the Diadem system to scan for Kleese ships. Each time, the massive enemy fleet had been detected near the inhabited planet and the cruiser had returned with the disheartening news.

“Our Marines can’t last much longer down on the surface,” stated Wade, growing more frustrated with each report.

He’d been pacing back and forth across the Command Center feeling impatient for something to change. It would be suicide to take the small fleet with the Argyle into the Diadem system. The Kleese fleet would quickly overwhelm them and turn them into space dust.

“Colonel, it may already be too late,” spoke Commander Anton, daring to voice what everyone else was afraid to say. “It’s been three days and those are Zaltule battlecruisers in orbit around Diadem.”

Wade stopped and glared at the commander. “They’re alive!” he insisted, not wanting to believe Ryan had been killed. “My brother and his Marines would have found a way to survive.”

“Perhaps,” Anton conceded with a trace of doubt in his voice. “But unless the Kleese leave, we have no way of knowing.”

Wade shook his head. For three days he’d been denying what they all knew. There was no way the human Marines could have survived against the odds now facing them. The Zaltule were the warrior caste of the Kleese race and knew how to fight. The fact that they were still in orbit strongly suggested the entire planet was now under their control.

“I’m sorry,” apologized Wade, realizing he’d been out of line. “We’ll stay for four more days and if the situation remains the same we’ll return home.” With a deep sigh, Wade turned to look at the viewscreens. They were filled with a myriad of stars, which shined steadily. On one of the screens, one of the small two hundred-meter assault ships was visible. “I’m going to my quarters; contact me if anything changes.”

-

The next morning, Wade was awoken as he heard his name being called over the ship’s comm system. “Colonel Nelson, please report to the Command Center,” the voice over the comm said.

Wade rolled out of bed and stood up. He stretched and stifled a yawn. He hadn’t slept well the entire night. He’d tossed and turned as he worried about the fate of his younger brother. “This is Colonel Nelson,” Wade said, pressing the button on the com panel in his quarters.

“Colonel,” came Commander Anton’s excited voice. “The light cruiser Callisto has just returned from the Diadem system. They report the Kleese fleet has left.”

“It’s left?” Wade repeated as he tried to clear his mind. “Are they certain?”

“Yes,” Anton replied. “They even went further in system to confirm all the Zaltule battlecruisers were gone and they didn’t detect a single one.”

“Set a course for the Diadem system immediately,” Wade ordered, as he reached for his clothes. “I don’t know why they left, but we need to take this opportunity to find out what happened to our missing Marines. Have all the drop ships prepped for an emergency descent.”

“Course is already set,” Commander Anton replied. “We’ll be entering Fold Space in twelve minutes. The countdown has already begun and drop ships are being prepped even as we speak.”

“I’m on my way to the Command Center,” Wade added, as he fastened the last button on his shirt. “I want the entire fleet at Condition One just in case this is a trap. I don’t trust the Zaltule at all; they may have suspected we had a rescue fleet posted near by. There’s a possibility they might have detected one of our surveillance cruisers and are using this opportunity to lure us in.”

“I agree,” Anton replied. “We’ll be ready if it is indeed a trap.”

In the background, Wade could hear the commander giving the order for the fleet to go to Condition One. Moments later, red lights in his quarters began flashing and the executive officer’s voice announced the setting of the higher alert level. With a nod, Wade left his quarters to go to the Command Center.

-

Wade waited tensely as the Argyle dropped out of Fold Space inside the Diadem system. They were twenty million kilometers from the planet and all weapons systems were primed to fire at the slightest sign of a threat. The Argyle was powerfully armed and could easily defend herself if necessary.

“Sensors are clear,” reported Ensign Smothers. “Just picking up a few Diadem passenger liners and cargo ships in orbit.”

Wade knew these vessels had been abandoned by their crews and passengers, as they were too large to land upon the planet. The Kleese had just left them orbiting the planet.

“See if you can contact anyone on Diadem,” ordered Wade, turning toward the Communications officer.

The young woman at the console spent several minutes working her console and even seemed to be speaking to someone. Wade waited expectantly, hoping it was their Marines she was speaking with.

“I can’t raise Colonel Stratford or Major Stevens,” she finally reported. Both officers had communication gear in their command suits, which would allow them to contact a ship in orbit. “I did manage to contact someone in the Diadem government and they’re reporting the Kleese suddenly left about fourteen hours ago. They also say there was a lot of activity at the main spaceport.”

Wade felt his stomach grow tense at this news. “Take us into orbit,” he ordered in a low voice. “Let’s go find out why the Kleese left and what happened to our Marines.” He was already beginning to dread what might be waiting for them on the surface.

-

Two hours later Wade was standing in the Control Tower of the spaceport. He was wearing a Type Three battlesuit, which he was thoroughly familiar with. One hundred and ten of Colonel Stratford’s rescued Marines had come down with him and were currently in the process of searching the entire space complex.

“There’s no one here,” Lieutenant Carlos Martinez said as he exited the stair well in the demolished lower floor. “We’ve searched the entire tower and we didn’t find a single Marine, not even a body.”

“I’m getting the same reports from the other Marine units out searching,” Wade replied.

He had a growing fear in the back of his mind. This was the last thing he had expected to find. He’d been certain a major battle would have been fought by Colonel Stratford and Major Stevens to hold the spaceport until help returned. It looked as if that battle never occurred. From video taken prior to leaving orbit when the Zaltule fleet returned there were no signs of additional damage to the space complex.

“Where could they have gone?” asked Martinez, feeling confused.

“They didn’t go anywhere,” Wade said, letting out a deep and ragged breath. “The Kleese took them.”

“What?” uttered Lieutenant Martinez. “How? Surely the Marines would have resisted.”

“They were stunned,” answered Wade, as he turned to leave the Control Tower with Martinez at his side. There was nothing left here for him to find. “We know the Kleese have powerful stun weapons on their assault ships to be used to capture new conscripts. We have to assume the Zaltule have the same weapons. They probably sent some shuttles down and stunned everyone in the surrounding area. Our battlesuits aren’t designed to stop stun weapons of significant magnitude. That’s an error we’ll need to correct.”

One thing Wade would do immediately was send a message to Admiral Adamson informing him of what had transpired. He was certain the admiral would send part of the fleet back to help secure the system and bring the Diadem people into the Alliance. Ion cannons would be emplaced on the surface to help ensure the safety of the planet. It wouldn’t take long and in just a few weeks they could make Diadem nearly impervious to Kleese attack.

Stepping outside, Wade looked up into the late afternoon sky. It was a deep blue very similar to what Earth once possessed before the Kleese poisoned the planet. A few puffy white clouds were visible and it seemed very quiet. For several minutes, Wade stood thinking about what he needed to do. Rescuing Ryan and the Marines the Kleese had taken was out of the question. There was no way to know where they had gone. He was also a little confused as to why the Kleese had taken the Marines as prisoners. He doubted if they wanted them for conscripts; there had to be another reason.

For the first time in a long while, Wade felt completely helpless. There was nothing he could do to help Ryan. Shaking his head, he activated his communication gear to contact Commander Anton on the Argyle. It was time to make his report, and this was one time he wished he wasn’t in command. He was about to report his brother and the other Marines MIA with no hope of rescue. This was the worst day of his life, even more so than when his own platoon had been captured by the Kleese so many years before.

-

Ryan woke up with a pounding headache. With a loud moan, he opened his eyes and looked around. With a start, he realized he was no longer in the Control Tower. Sitting up he felt his head spin and then the wave of dizziness passed.

“Don’t move too quickly,” Alexander said from the bunk on the other side of the room. “It helps to move slowly. I should know; I was stunned often enough on Charring Mountain.”

Nodding, Ryan looked around trying to figure out where they were. He could see a number of bunks on both sides of a long narrow room. Other Marines lay on the bunks, some still unconscious from the effect of the stunners and a few just beginning to recover. With sudden concern, he felt something strange around his neck. Reaching up he felt a small round metallic collar. Looking over at Alexander, he saw a silver collar with a slight bluish tinge around his neck.

“Kleese obedience collars,” Alexander confirmed with a heavy sigh. “We all have them. I’ve been awake for awhile, and I think we’re on a Kleese ship.”

“Casey?” asked Ryan, starting to stand up. Their battlesuits had been removed and everyone he could see were dressed in the ultra light uniforms they normally wore inside the suits.

“Down at the far end,” answered Alexander, pointing to a bunk with an unconscious Marine in it. “She’s still out; Lauren is on the bunk across from her.”

Ryan sat back down as he struggled to grasp their current situation. It was obvious the Kleese had used their stun weapons to knock out the Marines in their battlesuits. Counting the bunks, he could see there were twenty of them in the room. Several of the Marines were from different platoons.

“This isn’t good, is it Ryan?” asked Alexander, shaking his head. “If the Kleese have captured us, how will we ever get back home?”

“My brother did,” responded Ryan, wanting to give Alexander some hope. “If he and Beth did it, so can we. At least we’re still alive.”

-

Over the next hour, the rest of the Marines gradually woke up. Most had headaches like Ryan had experienced, which quickly went away. He was sitting on Casey’s bunk when she finally opened her eyes.

“Where are we?” she asked in a weak voice, as her eyes focused on Ryan.

Ryan knew the medical nanites she’d been injected with were still working to heal her wound. Unfortunately, without her battlesuit there were no more pain meds available.

“We’re on a Kleese ship,” Ryan answered not wanting to keep the truth away from her. “We were all stunned and taken on board.”

Casey closed her eyes and moaned as she moved her injured shoulder. It was throbbing as the pain meds had mostly worn off. “What now?”

“We wait,” answered Ryan, feeling anguish over Casey’s obvious pain. “We’re in a small barracks room with a locked hatch on the far end and restroom facilities through the door on this end.”

“At least we’re still together,” said Casey, wincing as she moved her shoulder. She really wished she had some pain meds.

Ryan was trying to remember everything Wade had told him about the months he and Beth had been Kleese captives. Ryan couldn’t imagine the Kleese wanting them for conscripts; it had to be information. There was no doubt in Ryan’s mind they would all be interrogated by the Kleese. Knowing how ruthless the arachnids were toward other races, it was an experience which would probably prove horrifying. He was pulled from his thoughts as the hatch to their room suddenly swung open and an alien entered. Behind him were two conscripts in Type Two battlesuits. Both conscripts were armed with heavy duty stunners.

“Greetings,” spoke the alien in a slightly stilted voice. “I am Gureen of the Nabian race.”

Gureen was easily seven feet tall with a clean-shaven head and small elfin ears. His eyes, nose, and mouth looked nearly human. His skin had a slight greenish tint to it.

Ryan stood and walked toward the front of the room followed by Lauren and Alexander. “Why are we here?”

“You are captives of the Zaltule,” Gureen replied, his eyes gazing unflinchingly at Ryan. “You wear the collars of obedience and will do as I or any other members of my race demand.”

“What if we don’t obey?” asked Lauren in a steady voice.

“Then you will die,” Gureen said simply. “You now belong to the Zaltule and will learn to serve them. Only through obedience will you continue to live.”

The Marines in the room looked at one another, not sure how to respond.

Gureen turned and nodded to several other members of his race who were waiting out in the corridor. The two Nabians wheeled in two large carts with eating utensils and several large pots with what looked like some type of thick, hot soup in them.

“This food is safe for humans to consume,” Gureen informed them. “Eat; you will need your energy. You will be allowed twelve hours of rest before your indoctrination commences.” With that Gureen and the others turned and left, shutting the hatch securely behind them.

Ryan turned and saw all the others were staring at him, uncertain what to do. “I suggest we eat as Gureen suggested.”

“What if the food’s drugged?” asked Private Hatterson with concern in her voice. Mary was deeply worried the Kleese might have put something in the food.

“It doesn’t matter,” Ryan replied. “There’s nothing else to eat.”

“So, what do we do?” asked Lauren softly.

“We wait and do as we’re told,” answered Ryan, recalling some of what Wade told him about how conscripts were treated. He reached up and touched the cold metal of the obedience collar around his neck. “These collars have explosive charges wired into them. If we disobey one of the Nabians or a Kleese, they will be set off.”

Lauren’s face turned pale as she realized the hopelessness of their situation. She thought getting to the top of Charring Mountain had been hard. She feared that experience might not even come close to what they were all going to be forced to endure now. They were about to live their worst nightmare and she wondered just how many of them would survive.

Chapter Four

The next morning, or at least Ryan assumed it was morning, started out auspiciously. Gureen returned to their quarters with the two conscripts in battlesuits as well as the other two Nabians from the day before. Once more, they brought in two carts of food, this time with a slightly different taste.

“You have one hour to eat and prepare yourselves,” Gureen announced. “I will return at the designated time and take you to begin your indoctrination. No delay will be tolerated!” Gureen and the others then left, locking the hatch behind them.

“I guess this could be worse,” Alexander mumbled as he filled his bowl and sat down on his bunk to eat. “At least they’re feeding us.”

“It’s better than the food in our battlesuits,” Mary said, as she took her bowl and then filled a second one for Casey. Mary walked over and handed Casey her bowl and sat down next to her. “How do you feel today?”

“Better,” replied Casey, forcing a smile. “Almost human again.” Her upper shoulder still ached, but the pain was not as severe as it had been.

Alexander and Private Cameron Swen were sitting together talking when Cameron looked over at Ryan. “How do you want to play this, Lieutenant?”

Ryan swallowed a spoonful of the soup before replying. The soup actually had a slight egg taste to it. “We cooperate without giving out any essential information. We don’t reveal anything about our ships, members of the Alliance, or any information about the solar system that could compromise our military. General information will be permissible and to more in depth questions we feign ignorance.”

“The Kleese might not like that,” Cameron said, his hand going to the collar around his neck. “Some of us could very easily lose our heads.”

“I know,” Ryan replied, his eyes taking on a serious look. “But we’re Marines and our job is to protect what’s left of our people.” Ryan looked around, seeing most of the Marines in the small barracks-like room were listening to him. “I have to be honest with you; the odds of us ever returning home aren’t great. The Kleese are undoubtedly taking us deeper into their space. We’ll do whatever we need to in order to survive, but under no conditions will we reveal valuable tactical information.”

“I wonder how many others they took?” Alexander said, as he finished off his bowl of breakfast soup and thought about going back for seconds. “Do you think Major Stevens was also taken?”

“I don’t know,” answered Ryan. “I doubt if we’re the only ones they took. I want everyone to finish eating and hit the showers if you need to. There’s no way of telling how long we’re going to be gone when Gureen returns.”

Ryan had checked out the restroom facilities. There was no privacy and the showers were open, but as Marines, they were used to such accommodations. Even though they were prisoners, the barracks they were in was relatively comfortable though a bit cramped. Fortunately, after spending hours in a Type Four battlesuit, which completely enclosed one, tight quarters were not a problem, at least not for now. He was also vastly relieved that Casey was feeling better; he’d been greatly concerned she might need a second dose of the medical nanites and he strongly suspected the Nabians wouldn’t agree to a treatment.

-

The hour finally passed and everyone waited expectantly with their eyes on the large metal hatch. Some were anxious about what was ahead of them and others were curious about what was outside. The hatch suddenly swung open and Gureen stood there.

“Everyone up,” he ordered commandingly. “You will march in a double file and follow me to your first indoctrination session. Anyone who refuses to obey or fails to keep up will be stunned and taken to a Kleese Overlord.” Without another word, Gureen turned and stepped back through the hatch.

Ryan stood up and gestured for his Marines to follow. “Double file,” he ordered. “Private Swen, I want you to help Casey so ensure she keeps up.”

“Yes, sir,” Cameron replied, as he stepped over to Casey’s side.

“I’m feeling all right,” Casey said, as she stood and then swayed slightly on her feet. “The nanites have almost finished their healing.”

“Just in case,” Ryan insisted, as he stepped out of the hatch. He didn’t intend for any of his Marines to be stunned, particularly Casey.

Seeing how wide the corridor was, he realized they had to be on one of the large exploration ships of the Kleese. This was the same type of vessel that had launched the planet killer into the Earth’s crust as well as taken Wade and thousands of other soldiers from Earth. This was a ship capable of traveling the length of the Kleese Empire and back again.

“Double file!” ordered Gureen as he turned and started down the long corridor at a fast pace.

Ryan nodded and took the lead with Corporal Parker at his side. He noted there were four conscripts in Type Two battlesuits escorting them. Only this time, two had stun weapons and the other two were armed with standard RG rifles.

Alexander noticed this too and his eyes widened at the implications. It was obvious the Nabians were prepared to use lethal force if they thought it was needed. It reminded him of just how little the Kleese and some of their vassal races regarded other life forms. His hand went unconsciously to the metal collar around his neck.

As they moved down the long corridor, Casey realized she was much weaker than she’d thought. She was finding it difficult to walk at the fast pace Gureen was setting. Cameron was holding her left arm and helping her to keep up. She was thankful Ryan had assigned Swen to help her. The RG round had barely missed her lung, but it had caused a lot of bone and tissue damage as it passed through her body. Normally, a wound such as that would take about a week to heal completely and might even need a second dose of the medical nanites. I need to get well, she thought to herself. They were in a bad situation and Ryan was going to need all of his people if they had any hope to survive. Right now, she was the weak link and determined for that to change.

As they went down the corridor, Ryan noticed the absence of other alien species. They passed a few other Nabians but no other races. From the things he remembered of what Wade had told him, the Kleese exploration ships were normally staffed by a number of different alien species, who had been taken as conscripts. Ryan wondered if the other alien races were being kept away from them for a reason. He filed that thought away for future consideration. Also, were the conscripts in the battlesuits Nabians or some other race?

For twenty minutes they marched through the massive ship, going down several wide corridors before coming to a stop before a large open hatch. Other platoons of Marines also began to appear, forming up in line behind Ryan’s group. Seeing the other Marines was a relief since it indicated they weren’t alone.

“We will enter the assembly chamber and you will be spoken to by one of the Overlords,” spoke Gureen, his eyes gazing intently at Ryan. “All of the humans taken from the world of Diadem will be present. You are not allowed to talk to one another. You will be silent while the Kleese Overlord speaks.” Gureen turned and entered the open hatch indicating for Ryan and the Marines to follow.

Once inside, Ryan was astonished to see just how large a chamber they were in. The room could easily hold several thousand people. In the front was what looked like a raised stage. Gureen led them there and indicated they were to line up and remain standing.

“I don’t like this,” Alexander said in a low voice, making sure Gureen couldn’t hear him. He looked around, watching the other platoons line up with them.

“I don’t either,” answered Ryan. He recalled how Wade had told him what happened to them the first time they’d been taken inside the large assembly chamber. He hoped such a demonstration wasn’t about to occur again.

Glancing around, Ryan saw both Lieutenant Felton and Lieutenant Guthrie at the head of their platoons. As with his, there were a few members that belonged to other units. Ryan wondered if they would be allowed to switch their people around to get them back where they belonged. Ryan had several people missing from his platoon though their absence had been made up with Marines from other units.

Felton and Guthrie both acknowledged Ryan’s presence though neither spoke. It was obvious they too had been told to remain quiet.

“Lieutenant,” said Alexander in a low voice his eyes focused intently on the stage.

Looking up, Ryan saw Major Nelson as well as Colonel Stratford enter the assembly room through a large door at the back of the stage. Neither looked happy to be there. They were accompanied by half a dozen Nabians. One was dressed in a uniform covered with colorful decorations.

“I am Queex,” the Nabian in uniform announced as he stepped up to the front of the stage. He stood for a moment looking over the assembled Marines. “You are now conscripts of the Kleese Empire and will act and be treated accordingly. Failure to follow orders will be dealt with severely. Each group of you has been assigned a Nabian overseer. His orders are to be obeyed without question.” Queex fell silent and then stepped back to stand with the others.

Ryan saw a dark, ambiguous shape suddenly fill the door to the stage and a Kleese stepped though. The Kleese looked like a giant arachnid but had a large hair covered upper body, which rose up into the air with a large triangular shaped head and strange looking, multifaceted eyes. Two nearly black arms extended from the upper chest ending in what looked like hands with seven long thin digits. The creature was large, with its body and six legs reaching nearly eight feet in width and six feet in height.

The Kleese walked to the front of the stage, its six legs making clicking sounds as they touched the floor. Its eyes looked at the Marines, sending chills through the ranks.

“I am Minor Overlord Creedanth,” the Kleese announced in a cold voice. “You humans have been brought here to be interrogated and studied. At any time if you refuse to answer our questions or show disrespect toward the Nabians or a Kleese, your life will be terminated.”

Ryan knew they were in trouble. It sounded as if the Kleese and Nabians would go on a killing spree if the Marines refused to answer their questions truthfully. This was going to be a problem.

“Around your necks are the collars of obedience,” Creedanth continued. Raising his hand, he pointed to a small black control box he held. “The collars of obedience contain an explosive charge, which can be detonated by the device I am holding. They will also detonate if there is any attempt to remove them.” Creedanth looked at the assembled Marines and then pressed a button on the device. Instantly, a ringing explosion occurred in the Marine formation.

Ryan heard several women scream and a few of the men swear. He saw, with a sickening feeling, a headless Marine fall to the floor, his blood pouring out of his shattered body. Ryan didn’t think he knew the Marine and from his uniform thought he was one of Colonel Stratford’s people. Taking a deep breath, he looked back at the stage and saw Colonel Stratford’s face was white with shock. His body seemed to be trembling in anger and his fists were tightly clenched at his side. Major Stevens leaned over and whispered something to Stratford, who nodded and slowly unclenched his fists.

“Disobedience will not be tolerated,” the Kleese spoke again as it turned and left the stage through the door it had entered through.

Once the Kleese was gone, Colonel Stratford stepped up to the front of the stage to speak. He looked across the assembled Marines, his eyes pausing briefly on the body lying on the floor in a pool of blood. His face was still pale and he took a deep calming breath.

“We are aboard a Kleese exploration cruiser currently en route to their trading station in Sector Twelve. From there, we’re to be taken to the Kleese home world for questioning and study.” Stratford paused and then took another deep breath before continuing. “We are Marines and will act as Marines,” he stated in a firm voice. “In the situation we’re in we have no choice but to obey the Nabians and the Kleese. We must do whatever we have to in order to survive. As Colonel Nelson did, we must find a way to persevere.” With that, the colonel fell silent and stepped back next to Major Stevens.

Queex stepped to the front and looked unperturbed at the dead body before speaking. “You have seen the justice of the Kleese,” he said with no remorse in his voice. “Each day you will be taken from your quarters to exercise and perform whatever tasks we have set for you. There will be no refusal.” Queex then turned and exited the same way he’d come with the others following him, including Colonel Stratford and Major Stevens.

“You shall return to your quarters now,” Gureen said, stepping in front of Ryan’s platoon. “Later today you will be taken to a training facility for exercise and further indoctrination.”

-

Upon reaching their barracks, they were hustled in and the hatch locked securely behind them. Everyone stood around looking at one another in shock over what had happened to the unfortunate Marine.

“That could have been any of us!” Private Cassie Littrel said, her eyes wide with fear. “He was just chosen at random.”

“The Kleese are a heartless race,” Ryan said with a deep sigh. He knew the execution had hit his platoon very hard. It made them all realize just how precarious a situation they were in. “We all have to remember how little they value the lives of other races. To the Kleese, all the rest of the races of the known galaxy are either vastly inferior or vermin. They see no one as equals.”

“What did Colonel Stratford mean there at the end?” Casey asked. She had sat back down on her bunk. She hadn’t realized just how weak she was. She strongly suspected he was trying to send them a message during his final words.

Ryan allowed himself to smile. “My brother and the others found a way to escape the Kleese and return home. I believe he’s suggesting that we need to see what we can do to accomplish the same thing.”

“You mean get the Nabians to betray the Kleese?” asked Corporal Parker with doubt in his eyes. Alexander didn’t think Gureen was the type to go against his Kleese Overlords.

“Not necessarily,” answered Ryan, raising his eyebrow as he thought over the possibilities. “Our main goal for the immediate future will be just staying alive. I’m pretty certain the Kleese want to keep as many of us alive as possible until we reach their home world. There has to be a reason why they abducted us from Diadem. It would’ve been much simpler just to blast us from orbit.”

“You may be right,” Lauren said, pursing her lips. “We need to learn as much as possible about the Nabians and how many Kleese are on board this ship. We need to find out their weaknesses and their strengths.”

“Corporal Adams is right,” Ryan said, nodding his head in agreement. “We need to keep our eyes and ears open and gather as much information as possible. Including Colonel Stratford’s Marines, there are slightly over two hundred of us being held prisoner on this ship.”

Ryan didn’t say it, but the most important thing they needed to find out was where their equipment was being stored. His Type Four command suit might just hold the key to getting these collars off their necks. As long as the Nabians or the Kleese could detonate the collars, the Marines would be helpless and unable to resist their captors. He also wanted to know if there were other alien races aboard or if the Nabians were the only race of conscripts operating the exploration ship. Were they also the ones in the Type Two battlesuits, which served as armed escorts?

Casey remained silent as she listened to Ryan. Her life as a clone could be short indeed if she met the same fate as the Marine in the assembly chamber. She’d nearly fainted when she saw his head blown off. It had been so unexpected. It made her realize even more just how cruel the Kleese were toward other races. Casey trusted Ryan to get them through almost any situation; he had proven his cleverness on Charring Mountain. However, this was different. They were so far away from home and getting farther away every hour. If they didn’t do something soon, they might be hopelessly lost in the endless depths of the Kleese Empire. She looked across the room at Lauren and their eyes met. She and Lauren were close friends since the corporal had taken her under her wing to teach her about what it meant to be a human woman. Looking around the small barracks room, Casey realized she had become friends with many of the Marines here. She hoped it hadn’t been a mistake, as she didn’t want to see any of them die.

-

Several weeks passed and Wade was once more back in the solar system. Admiral Adamson had ordered the Argyle to return home and for Wade to report to Fleet Admiral Kelly and General Mitchell about what had transpired at Diadem. An FTL message had already been sent along via a line of communication buoys placed between Lanolth and Centerpoint Station.

Wade watched one of the main viewscreens in the Command Center as Centerpoint quickly grew larger. Station Flight Control gave them precise docking instructions, and the Helm officer smoothly maneuvered the Argyle into her docking port.

Once the Argyle was docked to the station, Wade disembarked. As he walked through Centerpoint, he couldn’t help worrying about Ryan. Where was he and could he be rescued? All of these questions and more were running through Wade’s mind as he navigated the numerous corridors and took an interstation tram to the command level. He hoped to have some of his questions answered when he met with Fleet Admiral Kelly and General Mitchell.

-

As Wade entered the briefing room to explain in more detail what happened at Diadem, he wondered if he would ever see Ryan again or even if his brother was still alive. He knew from first hand experience what it was like to be a prisoner of the Kleese. Ryan could be living the same nightmare he’d gone through when he was a prisoner. It was while he was a captive on the Kleese trading station responsible for Sector Eleven that he had met Beth. She’d been his inspiration and helped him get through those trying times.

Entering the room, he saw Fleet Admiral Kelly, General Mitchell, General Pittman, Major Winfrey, Gerald Lawson, Marken, Commander Pasha, and Fleet Commander Achlyn. This was the entire Command Staff as well as a few others. It made Wade realize just how important this meeting was. He knew he wanted to talk this group into organizing a rescue operation. He was fairly certain where Ryan and the others might have been taken. If they moved promptly, there was a reasonable chance they could be rescued.

“Welcome back, Colonel Nelson,” greeted General Mitchell, standing up and gesturing for Wade to take a seat. “I’m sorry we have to meet under such conditions.”

“I heard about your brother,” Marken said, nodding at Wade. The Kivean considered Wade to be a very close friend. His wife Harnett had taken the news of Ryan’s capture by the Zaltule very hard. Both Marken and his life mate were very familiar with what life under the Kleese could be like.

“What happened on Diadem?” asked General Pittman, wanting more detailed information. He’d read the report Wade sent earlier, they all had. It had caused great concern within the General Staff.

“I think we were tricked,” Wade said in a somber voice, looking around the attentive group. “I don’t think the Zaltule were interested in conquering and holding the Diadem system.”

“What do you mean?” asked Fleet Commander Achlyn of the Deltons. “Why else would they have attacked Diadem?”

The Deltons were refugees from one of the nonaligned worlds attacked by the Zaltule. They were a small race, standing slightly more than a meter in height. Their bodies were humanoid with large round eyes that could see in the dark. They were of slim stature and highly dependent upon their computers to operate their warships.

“They wanted us to commit our Marines so they could capture some human soldiers,” Wade explained, his eyes narrowing sharply. This was the only explanation he could come up with to explain what had transpired. “Once they had what they wanted they left the system.”

“Damn!” uttered Major Winfrey, feeling shaken by Wade’s revelation. “It makes sense from a tactical perspective. We’re the main cause of their recent reversals in this area of space as well as the driving force behind the Alliance. They want some human specimens for study as well as interrogation.”

“We’re dealing with the Zaltule,” Marken said as he thought over what Winfrey and Wade had said. “They’re the warrior caste of the Kleese and may indeed want to better understand their enemy. The Zaltule are ferocious warriors but also extremely intelligent. Colonel Nelson may be correct in suggesting this was a trap to capture some humans.”

“What do we do?” asked Fleet Admiral Kelly not pleased with what he was hearing. He didn’t like the idea of humans being in the hands of the Kleese. “We have no idea where they’ve been taken.”

“I have an idea,” answered Wade, leaning forward with an intent look. “The Diadem government reported a Kleese exploration ship came into the system and took up orbit above the planet. When it left, the Marines at the spaceport were gone. The nearest Kleese base is the trading station in Sector Twelve. I’m guessing that’s where our missing people have been taken.”

“Are you proposing a rescue mission?” asked General Mitchell, his eyes narrowing sharply. A Kleese trading station would be heavily defended, perhaps even by Zaltule warships. Particularly this one since it was so close to Alliance space.

“Yes,” Wade answered with a glint in his eyes. “We can’t let the Kleese experiment on or kill our people!”

“Being a Kleese captive is a harsh life,” added Marken.

His own people had served the Kleese for hundreds of years before Marken, with the aid of the humans, had led a successful rebellion, if you could call eighty thousand survivors a success. The Kleese had destroyed the Kivean home planet in retaliation for the rebellion.

General Mitchell’s face became covered in a deep frown. He’d been working on a plan but what Colonel Nelson was suggesting could seriously throw off the timing of that operation. Looking over at Gerald Lawson, he asked a question. “How soon before the new battlecruisers are finished?” Mitchell was referring to the new updated ones being built inside of Vesta.

“Another three weeks before they’re ready for their trials,” Lawson replied with a frown covering his face, as he wondered why General Mitchell was asking that particular question. “Then possibly another two to three weeks for their shakedown cruises.”

“Can we speed up the process?”

“No,” answered Marken, shaking his head. A number of Kivean technicians, as well as a few Talt and Delton scientists, had been working on the new battlecruisers for the past four months. “We’re already going as fast as possible.” He suspected where General Mitchell was going with his question. He was very familiar with the plan of action the general had been considering.

Wade was listening intently; he’d been gone from Vesta for over two months and was curious about what the new battlecruisers would be like. He was also anxious to return to Vesta and see Beth as well as his parents though it would be difficult to explain to them what had happened to Ryan. He knew his mother would take it very hard.

“How will these new ships compare to a Zaltule ship?” he asked, looking over at Gerald Lawson the military research scientist trying to keep himself focused on the meeting.

Lawson allowed himself to smile. “In a one-on-one battle our ship would blow a Zaltule battlecruiser away with little effort. The new battlecruisers are one thousand meters long, two hundred meters wide, and two hundred meters thick.”

“That’s a little larger than the Argyle,” Wade said impressed.

“All four of the new cruisers will have a plasma cannon on them as well,” continued Lawson. “In addition, there will be two heavy particle beam cannons on the bow as well as two enlarged KEW cannons. There will be an additional eight particle beam turrets on the main hull plus our standard weapons. The armor is twenty percent thicker and the energy screens will be the most powerful we’ve every built.”

“What abut the new multi-warhead sublight missiles?” asked General Pittman. The new missiles had six twenty-megaton antimatter warheads on them.

“The ships have twenty-four expanded missile tubes, all capable of handling the new missile,” replied Gerald with a pleased smile.

“I think you’ll find the new plasma cannon we’ve designed highly effective,” added Commander Pasha. The Talts had long used plasma weaponry as their main offensive weapon. “It’s much more powerful than the ones our ships are equipped with and has nearly double the range.” The Talts were a humanoid species with large yellow eyes and a very dark complexion.

“Are we considering the strategy we discussed earlier?” asked Marken, his eyes focusing intently on General Mitchell.

He knew if they had any hope of rescuing Ryan and the other Marines the rescue mission would have to be launched almost immediately. That would mean the new battlecruisers couldn’t take part. Even if they launched the mission now, he wasn’t certain the humans would still be at the station, particularly if the Zaltule were involved.

A number of Kiveans, including Marken, had met with Commander Pasha and Fleet Commander Achlyn to come up with a plan to slow down the Zaltule advance against the nonaligned worlds. They’d devised a daring plan to attack the Kleese, which would significantly degrade their war capability. They had presented this plan to Fleet Admiral Kelly and General Mitchell at a meeting of the General Staff.

“Yes,” General Mitchell admitted with a heavy sigh. “Unfortunately, we must wait until the new battlecruisers are finished and ready to deploy if we want to have a reasonable chance of success.”

“What new strategy?” asked Wade, cocking his eyebrow. He’d hoped they could launch a rescue mission immediately. This sounded like it wasn’t going to happen.

“As you know,” began Marken, shifting his narrow eyes to Wade. “The Kleese maintain fifteen of their giant trade stations to help control their Empire. We already took the one responsible for this sector. We’re proposing attacking and seizing two more. One will be taken to the system of Lanolth and the other brought back here.”

“What?” Wade said, taken aback, his eyes widening. “You’ve got to be kidding!” To take two of the massive stations would be a huge military operation and would involve hundreds of warships. There was also no guarantee of success.

“That’s what I said,” General Pittman said with a nod of his head. When he’d first heard of the plan, he thought it was ludicrous. “We’ll be committing a major portion of our fleet to this mission if we elect to continue.”

“It’s a sound strategy,” Fleet Admiral Kelly said, defending the plan. “If we take the trading stations out of Sector Twelve and Sector Nine then the Kleese will have no repair facilities within several thousand light years, drastically slowing down their war effort. It will give us time to continue to grow the Alliance as well as build more of our new and updated ships.”

“There are hundreds of Kleese on those stations,” Wade was quick to point out. “Not only that, they have crews of over a hundred thousand conscripts. It’ll take several thousand Marines in Type Three and Type Four suits to have any chance of taking a station. Even then, there’ll be substantial casualties.”

“We know,” answered General Mitchell with a somber look on his face. “The stations will probably have some Zaltule on board as well as Zaltule battlecruisers defending them. It won’t be an easy battle.”

“Plus the exploration ships as well as hundreds of assault ships,” added Wade, shaking his head, not believing the General Staff was seriously considering doing this. He was well aware of what was aboard one of the massive trading stations, he’d spent enough time on one while a Kleese conscript.

“It will be an unexpected setback to their war effort,” General Mitchell responded, looking intently at Wade. He knew the loss of his brother was weighing heavily on the colonel’s mind. However, Mitchell had to look at what was best for the Alliance. “If we can take the two stations, it’ll buy us more time to strengthen the Alliance and our own forces.”

“What about our captured Marines in the meantime?” Major Winfrey demanded. He was concerned that in the time it would take to mount this type of attack General Mitchell was suggesting, the Kleese might very well move them somewhere else.

“We just have to hope they’re still at the trading station in Sector Twelve when we get there,” Fleet Admiral Kelly said in an even voice, forcing himself to look at Wade.

“And still alive,” added Winfrey, not happy with where this conversation was going. He was with Wade in wanting to see a rescue mission launched immediately.

“I’m sorry,” General Mitchell said, drawing in a deep breath. “The decision has been made. When the attacks are launched, Colonel Nelson, you will be in charge of the Marines responsible for taking Station Twelve with the troop assault ships Defender and Argyle at your disposal. Major Winfrey, you will be in charge of the Marines attacking Station Nine using the Leviathan and the Crimson Star. We’ll make our attack in six weeks.”

“It’s the right thing to do,” Marken said, looking over at Wade. “We can’t rush haphazardly into an attack to attempt to free our Marines; there would be a high probability of failure. I truly wish we could, but we just can’t.” Marken felt Wade’s pain; he knew how much his friend cared for his younger brother.

Wade nodded his head mechanically. He felt let down that a rescue mission wasn’t being launched immediately but knew it was the right decision. To rush haphazardly into a rescue mission could cost more lives than those they were intent on saving. He also knew it would take an additional two to three weeks from the time the fleets left to reach their targets. That meant at least eight to nine weeks before they arrived at the trading station. Wade just hoped Ryan and his people could survive that long. He also hoped they were still there when the rescue mission arrived.

Chapter Five

Ryan let out a deep breath of frustration. They’d just spent the last hour running around the small training facility under the ever-watchful eye of Gureen and their guards. It had been the same for the last two weeks. Gureen would appear at their door at 7:00 each morning with their two carts of breakfast food. They would be allowed one hour to eat and shower, then they were escorted to the training facility. They would spend either an hour running or an hour exercising. Then Gureen would have them get in formation and spend time explaining the benefits of cooperating with the Kleese. Not once had they been questioned about Earth, the Alliance, or the military. Today looked to be no different as Gureen took his place in front of them, flanked by his two ever-present conscripts in Type Two battlesuits carrying their stun rifles.

“Another lecture,” groaned Alexander with a deep frown. “I’m getting tired of hearing about how great it is to serve the Kleese. I would like to take Gureen’s neck and wring it until it pops off.”

“Quiet!” muttered Lauren, elbowing Alexander sharply in the side. “You want your head blown off?” She knew Alexander was feeling increasingly aggravated about their situation; they all were.

Alexander quieted down and turned his attention toward Gureen. Lauren was right; the tall Nabian could be dangerous if crossed. So far it had resulted only in a few Marines being stunned, but Gureen had made it clear he wouldn’t hesitate to call in a Kleese with the enigmatic black control box to set a further example. It just felt good to vent his frustrations on occasion.

“Today is a great day for you,” Gureen began in his slightly stilted voice. “We are arriving at our trading station in Sector Twelve where you will undergo the first part of your questioning by the Zaltule.”

This caused a murmuring in the ranks as the Marines shifted uneasily on their feet. They’d known the questioning would begin sometime and been curious why it hadn’t already. Now they knew. They were going to be interrogated by the warrior caste! This raised the stakes considerably as the Zaltule wouldn’t be easy to fool.

“The Zaltule are great warriors and are not to be trifled with,” Gureen continued, as his eyes swept across the assembled Marine platoon. “Failure to comply with their requests or questions will have severe consequences.”

“How severe?” asked one of the Marines.

Gureen ignored the question. “Do not make false statements to the Zaltule.”

Ryan looked over at Casey standing next to him. Her face had turned a pasty color at hearing Gureen mention the Zaltule. She’d finally recovered from her injuries and was even doing the full set of daily exercises.

The thought of being questioned by one of the warrior caste made Casey feel weak at the knees and a chill ran down her back. She closed her eyes tightly and took in several long breaths. Opening them, she felt more in control.

“You will return to your barracks where you will wait until time to board the station.” With that final utterance, Gureen indicated they were to follow him back to their quarters.

-

As they marched back in a double file, Ryan gazed about at the others they passed. In the last two weeks, he’d seen a few other platoons being marched to the training facilities as well as more Nabians in the corridors. However, no other races were seen. Ryan was becoming more convinced with each passing day that the Nabians were the only conscripts on the ship. Since the Kleese had launched their attacks on the nonaligned worlds and the Alliance he wondered if they were being more selective in who they chose to crew their exploration ships.

Once inside their quarters and the hatch locked Ryan looked around at his Marines and asked the same question he did every day. “Anyone learn anything?”

“No,” replied Casey, shaking her head. “The other Nabians still refuse to speak to us unless they’re giving orders. We passed one other platoon today and it was one of Colonel Stratford’s. I didn’t recognize anyone in it.”

“All the hatches were shut to the other corridors or compartments,” added Lauren. “It’s pretty obvious they’re controlling what we see and have access to.”

“These Nabians are a clever bunch,” stated Alexander. “I don’t believe we’re going to learn much from them unless we can beat it out of them.”

“Still wanting to get your head blown off?” commented Lauren, shaking her head disapprovingly. “We don’t dare attack a Nabian as long as these damn collars are around our necks.”

The others all nodded in agreement. This was the same as it had been every day. Nothing new to report and they were learning very little information which could be of use. The Nabians held the answers and they weren’t talking.

“We’re going aboard the trading station today,” spoke Ryan, clasping his hands behind his back and gazing at his waiting Marines. “All of you are familiar with Centerpoint so this should be nothing new. When we board stay observant and pay special attention to which alien races are present. Also, keep a lookout to see if any of our equipment is unloaded.” Ryan still hoped to somehow get to his command suit. It would be a game changer if he could.

Indicating the meeting was over, Ryan went and sat down on his bunk, thinking about their options. At the present time there were none, at least none that offered any hope. In times like this he tried to think about what his brother Wade would do. However, in Wade and Beth’s situation they had the aid of the Kiveans, particularly Marken. Ryan seriously doubted the Nabians could be coerced into turning against the Kleese, not after being around Gureen and Queex.

Casey came over and sat down next to Ryan, placing her hand on his and giving it an affectionate squeeze. “Wade is bound to suspect where the Kleese have taken us,” she said in a low voice. “Do you think there’s any possibility of him attempting a rescue?” Casey knew with each passing day the chance of rescue grew ever more remote.

“If my brother thought he could rescue us he would move Heaven and Earth to do so,” Ryan said with a deep sigh. He felt powerless in this situation and didn’t see what he could do to change it. The slim collars around their necks ensured they were obedient. The control this gave to the Nabians and the Kleese irked him.

“It will take time for him to organize a rescue mission,” responded Casey, sensing Ryan’s concern. “By the time he can get here, we may already be gone.”

Ryan nodded in agreement. He was greatly troubled how his being abducted was going to affect his parents. His mother had never liked the idea of him joining the Marines and following in his brother’s footsteps. She’d claimed it was too dangerous and would rather see him serve in the fleet instead. It would be up to Wade and Beth to break the news of his abduction and to make sure their parents got through the pain. Ryan felt terrible about what he was going to put his parents through.

“I’m afraid you’re right,” he answered. Unfortunately, it would have taken Wade several weeks to get back to Centerpoint, another few weeks to set up a rescue mission and then nearly four weeks to get to this station. “The Kleese have already made it clear they’re going to take us to their home world. If Wade does come, I don’t think we’ll still be here.”

“We need to find a way to leave him a message,” spoke Casey, her hazel eyes focusing intently on Ryan. “He needs to know what happened to us and where the Kleese are taking us. We can’t give up hope.”

“But how?” asked Ryan, feeling perplexed. How could they possibly leave a message for Wade that the Nabians or the Kleese wouldn’t find?

“I don’t know,” answered Casey, crossing her arms over her chest.

It had been hard the last few weeks being so close to Ryan and the two of them having no real privacy. True, most of the Marines in their platoon knew there was something going on between Ryan and Casey but they tended to ignore it. Casey had even noticed Lauren smiling knowingly at her anytime she came over to sit next to Ryan. With a deep sigh, she looked around the room. There were other clones besides her in the platoon. Private Justin Matheson and Private Mary Hatterson were both clones as well as several others. She wondered how they were adjusting to this situation. She should probably take the time to speak with each one of them.

-

Several hours passed and Ryan was beginning to believe Gureen had lied to them about reaching the trading station. He was about to voice his thoughts to Corporal Parker when the hatch swung open and Gureen put in an appearance.

“We’ve arrived at the station,” he announced, his eyes peering sharply at the Marines. “You will behave as we go aboard and you will be taken to a habitat where you will remain until you have completed your first round of questioning by our Overlords, the Zaltule.”

“A habitat,” uttered Private Swen, thinking of the possibilities. “Maybe they’ll put us all together.”

“Maybe,” Ryan answered, as Gureen stepped out into the corridor expecting the Marines to follow him.

-

It didn’t take them long to exit the exploration ship as it was docked to the trading station. Ryan knew the Kleese had fifteen of these massive stations scattered across their Empire. Used to have fifteen, he corrected himself; his brother and former Fleet Admiral Kirby had stolen one. It had been taken to the solar system and after some much needed modifications become Centerpoint Station.

Ryan knew the surface of a station was covered in habitation domes used for training facilities and living quarters. They ranged in size from ten to twenty kilometers across. A trading station was one hundred and twenty kilometers wide and twenty-four kilometers thick. It normally had a crew of several hundred thousand conscripts and a small number of Kleese. It also held numerous flight bays and hundreds of assault ships. The trading stations served as bases for the large Kleese exploration ships.

As soon as they stepped aboard, the first thing Ryan noticed was the presence of several other alien races. Ryan’s platoon was being escorted by a number of Nabians and four conscripts in battlesuits. They were marched to an interstation tram and told to board. A few minutes later, they exited and were told to go through a large open hatch.

Stepping through, Ryan for a moment thought they were back on Centerpoint. The small habitation dome was very similar to the one that contained their training facilities and Charring Mountain.

“Damn!” muttered Alexander, gazing at the small mountain in the distance. “Does every one of these stations have a Charring Mountain?”

“The stations may be built to a standard format,” Lauren said, as she gazed around. The dome did have an eerily familiar look to it. A few hundred meters away were a series of small buildings, which resembled barracks. There was even a parade field over to one side.

Hearing more noise behind him, Ryan turned and saw other Marines being herded into the dome. With relief, he recognized his missing people and then saw both Lieutenant Felton and Lieutenant Guthrie come in with their platoons.

“It looks as if we’re all being put inside this dome,” said Casey, coming to stand next to Ryan. “I wonder why?” She was greatly relieved to see the others. She wondered if any of them had been able to learn anything of value.

“Easier to keep an eye on us, I imagine,” Ryan answered. He felt immense relief when he saw Major Stevens and Colonel Stratford come inside. Perhaps now he could get some answers.

Gureen and the other Nabians present marched the Marines to the barrack buildings and then over to the parade field, where Gureen turned to address them. “These will be your quarters for the next few days. Tomorrow you will be questioned by the Zaltule and expected to answer.” With that, Gureen and the others turned and left, exiting through the large hatch. Six conscripts in Type Two battlesuits remained inside armed with stunners as the hatch was shut and locked.

“Looks as if they’re going to keep an eye on us this time,” commented Casey, eyeing the six guards.

“Get our people situated inside one of the barracks,” Ryan ordered. “I’m going to go talk to Major Stevens.”

Walking over to where the major and colonel were standing, Ryan saw the other lieutenants were doing the same. He was sure they were all just as curious as he was to find out if the two commanding officers knew anything more about what was going on.

“Lieutenant Nelson,” Stevens said in greeting. “I’m pleased to see you and your platoon survived intact.”

“What about the others?” Ryan asked with concern in his voice. It sounded as if there might have been some problems in the other platoons.

“There were three more executions,” Colonel Stratford informed him and the others. “Several Marines refused to obey the Nabians and a Kleese was summoned to set an example.”

“They seem to enjoy using those damn black control boxes,” uttered Stevens with a deep frown.

“What do you think the odds of rescue are?” asked Lieutenant Guthrie, looking at Ryan. She knew who his brother was, and if anyone could rescue them from the clutches of the Kleese, it would be Colonel Nelson.

“I don’t think there’s going to be enough time,” answered Ryan, shaking his head gloomily. “We’ve been told they’re going to take us to their home world for additional study and interrogation. It will be several weeks yet before a rescue mission could get here.”

“Lieutenant Nelson’s right,” Colonel Stratford said in agreement. “Major Stevens and I have discussed the possibility of rescue, and we just don’t believe there’ll be time for the Alliance to reach us before the Kleese take us deeper into their space.”

“Then what are we going to do?” asked Lieutenant Felton with deep concern in his voice.

“We need to decide what our people can tell the Kleese,” answered Stratford. “We have to give them some information or we risk more reprisals. I don’t want to see any more heads blown off. We need to buy as much time as possible to figure out what we can do to change our situation.”

“What about finding our battlesuits?” Ryan asked, his eyes narrowing sharply. “With the command suits there’s a possibility we could find a solution to removing these collars.”

“Yes,” responded Major Stevens, focusing his attention back on Ryan. “But it would have to be one of the Type Four command suits with the neural feed.” He hadn’t discussed this possibility with Stratford, as he didn’t know if the command suits could find a viable solution to the collars.

“Do you think your Type Four suits could actually get the collars off?” asked Colonel Stratford with surprise in his voice. His right hand went up and touched the deadly silver collar around his neck. The collars made doing anything against their captors nearly impossible.

“Marken helped program the suits,” Ryan answered. “I’m sure he would have set up an internal program in case some of us were captured by the Kleese. We just need to find it.”

Stratford was silent for a long moment and then spoke. “That makes our first priority finding out where they have our equipment stored. It may be a serious risk getting to it, but if we can get these damn collars off and recover our equipment at least that would give us a fighting chance. With two hundred Marines in battlesuits, we just might be able to take the exploration ship that’s transporting us to their home world.”

“We need to stay alive until we can locate the suits,” added Stevens, knowing it was probably their only viable option to escape their captors. “In that regard, let’s go over what information we can reveal to the Kleese during these interrogations. There’s a lot of general information the Kleese already know which we can talk about and some other information, which wouldn’t be detrimental to the solar system or the Alliance.”

-

The small group spent nearly an hour going over what they could risk telling the Kleese. Once they were all satisfied with what they’d decided, they went their separate ways to inform their platoons. They were also going to move some of the Marines around to get the platoons back to normal.

Major Stevens watched them go. The last two weeks had been difficult for him and Colonel Stratford. The Nabians had kept the two command officers away from their Marines, only informing them when an execution had been performed. The two officers questioned their Nabian captors extensively but had gleaned very little useful information.

“You didn’t mention before that you might be able to use your Type Four command suits to remove these collars,” said Colonel Stratford, pointing to the one around Steven’s neck.

“It’s a maybe,” Mark replied. “We don’t even know where the Nabians put our equipment. It could still be on the exploration cruiser or here somewhere on the trading station. There’s a good chance we’ll never see it again.”

“Let’s set up a meeting for later this evening with the platoon leaders,” Stratford suggested. “We have slightly over two hundred Marines and there are eight lieutenants we can count on to keep them in line. It’s essential we maintain our discipline and cohesion as a military unit. I don’t want to count on a rescue being our only means of getting back home. If we can find a way to do it ourselves then I won’t hesitate to take that route, no matter what the costs.”

“I agree,” replied Mark, nodding his head. “We need to escape before we reach the Kleese home world. I fear that once that happens all hope will be lost.”

Mark let out a deep sigh. He wished Lieutenant Griffith were here. His fellow officer and best friend was always full of helpful advice. They had served together at Tent City and survived some harrowing times after the destruction of Earth. He greatly missed his best friend.

-

Back in the solar system, Wade had returned to Vesta to meet with General Bailey and President Steward. The president had requested the meeting and they were currently inside the massive spacedock within Vesta.

“They’re big ships,” commented President Steward, gazing at the four large heavy battlecruisers under construction. They were covered with a spider work of gantries, and hundreds of workers were swarming over the ships intent on getting them finished. A number of hatches were open and the large particle beam turrets were plainly visible. Over to one side of the ships, the multiple warhead sublight antimatter missiles were being unloaded and then taken on board to be stored in their bunkers.

“We’re running a three shift operation,” stated Sean Miller, who was responsible for the spacedock and normal flight operations. “As you can see we’re already loading munitions. Work is on schedule and the ships should be finished in three more weeks.”

There had been many changes in the spacedock since its inception when it merely served as a port and construction facility for the Smithfield Mining Corporation. Now it had been greatly expanded and was the primary shipyard for construction of the larger fleet warships. Thousands of people worked in the spacedock and its support facilities.

“We’ve already ordered the material for the next four,” added Ethan Hall, who was responsive for ship construction as well as being a brilliant engineer. “Some of the internal systems have already been completed and are just waiting for the keels of the new ships to be built.”

“How long on the next four?” asked General Bailey. “I assume the second group can be constructed a little faster than the first ones.”

“Four months,” Ethan replied. “That allows us to do all the quality checks and includes a three shift around the clock construction operation.”

“Should we build another spacedock?” Steward asked. They were already putting a considerable amount of the system’s budget into defense. At the last report, it was slightly over sixty percent of the available funds.

“We may be able to help with that,” spoke up Marken, who had been standing quietly next to Wade. “With the combined technology of the Deltons, the Talts, and ourselves we may be able to build a second construction spacedock at a fraction of the cost it would normally take.”

“How?” asked Steward, cocking his eyebrow. Anything that would save money he was interested in. There was always grumbling from some of the habitats that felt they were being shorted in receiving needed assistance.

“We’ve designed a work robot that can easily do most of the construction work required in building a new spacedock,” Marken explained. “The Deltons used a type of work robot in much of their construction activities. We’ve modified it to the point that it can now serve multiple purposes.”

“How long would it take to build a spacedock, which could build six or eight of these new battlecruisers at a time?” asked General Bailey. He knew if they wanted to continue to protect the solar system from the Kleese they needed as many of the new battlecruisers as possible. The Kleese had a massive fleet and someday the solar system might have to face it.

“How about a spacedock that could build ten of the new ships in four months or less?” proposed Marken with a smile. “With the work robots and using Delton, Talt, and Kivean technicians, we could have it fully operational in six months.” His people, along with the Deltons and Talts, had already been working on a design.

“Six months!” exclaimed Ethan, his eyes grown wide. “Where would we build it?”

“Here at Vesta,” President Steward said, as he thought over the staffing requirements a new spacedock would require. “We have the necessary infrastructure here for everything as well as the people. We just need to decide where to build it and when to start construction.”

He was excited at the prospect of creating potentially tens of thousands of new jobs for the people inside of Vesta. It would be a boon to morale and greatly increase the money the civilians had to spend.

“We’ll need to run this through the council for approval,” spoke up General Bailey as he thought the suggestion over.

He liked the idea of building the new spacedock inside Vesta. The asteroid was the most heavily defended population center in the entire solar system. Much of what would be needed was already here and would only need to be expanded. Nearly five and a half million humans called Vesta home.

“I’ll do so immediately,” replied Steward, nodding his head in agreement. “Sean, talk to Keith Davis and determine the best location for the new spacedock. I want to get started on this immediately.” Then the president turned his attention back to Wade. “The attack and rescue operation we’re going to launch in a few months…I hope we get your brother and the others back, but I fear we’ll greatly infuriate the Kleese if we are successful in taking two more of their trading stations. What do you think they’ll do?” This had been a major sticking point that greatly concerned him. By taking the stations, they might be stirring up a hornets’ nest.

“Attack,” responded Wade animatedly. “They’ll want the stations back and will hit us with everything they have. We’d better be prepared for a major fleet action.”

“If we succeed in keeping the stations and beating back their attempts to retake them, how will that affect the Kleese and their war strategy?” This was the key question for Steward.

“It will definitely hamper it,” answered Wade. He’d thought long and hard about what General Mitchell and Fleet Admiral Kelly wanted to do.

“In what ways?” asked General Bailey, wanting Wade to expound on his answer.

“They won’t have any easy way to resupply their fleet or repair major damage suffered in battle. It could buy us a few years’ time until they make the necessary adjustments.”

“What type of adjustment do you think they’ll make?” asked Bailey.

“If I was them I’d take another trading station out of a different sector, then heavily arm it and move it as close to Alliance space as possible to use as an advanced base. I would keep a powerful fleet of Zaltule battlecruisers close by to protect it.”

“Makes sense,” Steward said, drawing in a deep breath. “We shall continue to increase our defenses in the solar system. After what happened at Mars Central, we’ve ensured we can safely evacuate our entire population to deep bunkers, which are impervious to antimatter attacks. We’ve added more ion and pulse fusion beam cannons where feasible.”

General Bailey turned toward Wade. “Colonel Nelson, both the Argyle and the Defender will be putting into spacedock here at Vesta to be reprovisioned and prepared for your attack on the trading station in Sector Twelve. If there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate to ask. If it’s possible, I’ll see that you get it. I know what it’s like to be a Kleese captive.”

“The Defender will be my command ship for the invasion of the trading station,” Wade replied. “We’ll need a number of assault ships loaded with troops as well. Taking a station that’s prepared to defend against us isn’t going to be easy.”

“I’ll speak to a few of my people as well,” added Marken. “Their familiarity with the stations and their systems might be of some use.”

“Thanks, Marken,” Wade replied. He knew he could always count on the Kivean for needed support and aid.

“If there’s nothing else then I better get home and see my wife,” Wade said, his face looking very somber at the news he was returning with.

“I know it’s going to be hard telling Beth and your parents about Ryan,” General Bailey said. “I don’t envy you that task.”

As Wade left, the others stood silently. There was much that needed to be done, and they couldn’t allow their thoughts to dwell too long on what had happened to the Marines on Diadem. They had a war to fight and, hopefully, some day win. The taking of the two trading stations would just be one small battle in the overall scheme of things.

Marken watched Wade leave the spacedock feeling deep sadness for his friend. Harnett had been highly upset when he’d told her what happened to Ryan, and he could only imagine how Wade’s parents would feel. The thought of losing a child was unimaginable to Marken. It made him even angrier with the Kleese and more determined than ever to end their reign of terror over this part of the galaxy.

-

Wade had to go to the cloning facility to see Beth. He hadn’t told her he was home as she might have asked too many questions; some would have been about Ryan. This was something he needed to tell her and then his parents face-to-face. It was going to be difficult and he was still having trouble accepting what had happened to his brother. He’d always been worried about Ryan being hurt or even killed in combat, but being captured by the Kleese hadn’t been one of his fears. In many ways, it might have been more merciful if Ryan had been killed in combat.

Entering the massive facility buried deep beneath the surface of Vesta, it still amazed him how spotless and clean everything was. Not a speck of dust was visible anywhere and the floors looked as if they had just been polished.

“Colonel Nelson,” greeted Mason Randle with a big smile. “The guards called and told me you’d come through the front entrance. Mason had taken over as administrator of the cloning facility after stepping down as president. It was a task he found both exhilarating and extremely satisfying. “Beth is in her office, I didn’t say anything about your arrival as I suspect you want to surprise her.”

“Yes,” replied Wade, guessing Mason hadn’t been informed about what had happened to the Marines. “How’s the facility doing?”

“Great,” Mason answered as they began walking down the corridor to the elevator that would take them to the level with Beth’s office. “We’re going to create two hundred and twenty thousand clones this year.”

“That many?” Wade said, surprised, arching his eyebrow. That was nearly double what he’d been expecting.

“Yes,” Mason answered somberly. “After the debacle at Mars Central there’s a huge demand by the civilians to beef up our defenses. Enlistment of normal humans has increased by twenty-two percent, but that’s still not enough to staff our planned ships or fill the ranks of our Marine divisions.”

“How’s Adrienne doing?”

“She loves being a mother,” Mason answered with a smile. Since Lara had been born, Adrienne spent much of her time at home. She seemed to love being a stay at home mom. Things were so much different now that he was no longer president.

Wade nodded. He and Beth had talked about kids and knew his wife was leaning more in that direction every day. Being deep inside Vesta, they were pretty secure from attack. The large habitats within the asteroid would all be good places to raise a child.

Entering the elevator, they were soon at the level where the main security offices were located. Mason informed Wade he needed to check on some new equipment being installed by Kivean technicians. “Come see me when you get the chance,” Mason said as he began walking down the corridor. “In my new job I don’t hear too much about what’s happening on the front lines or with the Alliance.”

Mason actually preferred it that way, as it allowed him to focus on his job at the cloning facility. He still had monthly briefings with both President Steward and General Bailey to determine how many clones would be needed to fill positions in the military and fleet construction jobs. In those meetings, he was normally apprised of current battle plans and the status of the Alliance. However, the daily and weekly briefings had long since stopped, partly at Adrienne’s insistence. She continually reminded him he was no longer responsible for the safety of the humans in the solar system. He had a family now as well as an important job he needed to focus on.

Reaching Beth’s office, Wade hesitated and then took a deep fortifying breath. He needed to tell Beth about Ryan and then later, the two of them would go to see his parents. This was a day he wished he could skip, but the conversations had to occur. They had a right to know what happened. Wade wasn’t sure how Beth would take the fact that they had left Ryan and the others behind.

-

Beth was busy studying some reports when she heard the door to her office open. Glancing up, her breath caught in her throat when she saw who was standing there. “Wade!” she screamed excitedly, standing up and going quickly around her desk to give him a huge welcoming hug and kiss. “When did you get in?”

“Yesterday,” he replied. “I’ve been at Centerpoint debriefing.”

Beth studied Wade’s face, sensing something was wrong. “What is it, Wade?” she asked, her face taking on a concerned look. “What’s happened?”

Wade took Beth’s hands, gripping them tightly. “It’s Ryan,” he said in a strained voice. “The Zaltule have captured him and his platoon.”

“Captured him?” Beth said, her face turning pale. “Is he still alive? What happened?”

“We think so,” Wade replied, looking into Beth’s compassionate eyes.

He then began explaining what had transpired. He would need her strength when they went to see his parents. Wade had always feared something might happen to Ryan once his younger brother decided to join the Marines and then later try out for the special project, which involved the Type Four battlesuits. Now that fear had become a reality and it was a nightmare he was going to have to learn to face. It was one that might last for a very long time.

Chapter Six

Two weeks had passed and there had been no interrogations by the Kleese or the Nabians. No one fully understood why and things had fallen into a routine. The Nabians brought in food three times a day. It was always the same in the form of a thick soup with each meal tasting the same or similar as the day before.

“I don’t know if I can eat much more of this,” groaned Alexander as he filled his bowl up and went to sit down at a table next to Lauren.

“Get used to it,” Lauren said as she slowly ate her meal. “There’s no point in griping. It’s either eat this or starve.”

Alexander swallowed a spoonful with a distasteful frown. “I just wish they would vary the flavor some or add meat to this soup.”

“At least they’re feeding us regularly,” commented Mary. She didn’t mind the soup that much. It was filling and didn’t actually taste all that bad.

“I heard all the officers have been summoned to Colonel Stratford’s quarters,” reported Cameron. “There’s some kind of big meeting going on.”

“I’m worried,” Casey said. She’d watched as the Nabian in the highly decorated uniform came into the habitat with a number of other Nabians as well as a large quantity of conscripts in battlesuits. Shortly after that, all the officers had been summoned to Colonel Stratford’s office.

“They’re leaving!” called out Private Cassie Littrel from where she was standing looking out a window. “All the Nabians and our officers are leaving!”

Casey turned pale as she quickly got up and rushed to where Cassie was. Looking out, she was just in time to see the group exit through the large hatch, which led to the interior of the station. Casey had a bad feeling the questioning they’d all been dreading was about to begin. She was worried about Ryan.

She knew his brother Wade had told Ryan stories about the long months they’d been used as conscripts for the Kleese and forced to attack other races in order to bring them into the empire. They had worn the deadly Kleese collars of obedience fearful they could be killed at any time by one of the arrogant arachnids. Wade, Beth, and the others had lived a nightmare for months on end until Marken and the other Kiveans helped them to escape. Ryan was well aware of what was at stake and Casey just hoped he was prepared to face one of the fearful Zaltule. She wondered how long it would be until it was her turn.

-

Ryan knew they were in trouble when he was summoned to Colonel Stratford’s quarters only to find Gureen and several other Nabians waiting there, as well as Queex. Ryan had already figured out Queex seemed to be the one in overall charge and when he gave an order, the other Nabians were quick to respond. He saw Lieutenant Felton and Guthrie as well as the other lieutenants all waiting outside Stratford’s quarters.

“You are to be taken and questioned by the Kleese including Betel, the Kleese Overlord in charge of this station,” Queex announced. “Failure to answer truthfully or promptly will result in your immediate termination.”

The lieutenants shifted uneasily on their feet. Major Stevens frowned at hearing the threatening announcement. He didn’t like the tone Queex was taking and was itching to do something about it, but the explosive collar around his neck kept his anger in check.

“We will answer the questions,” promised Colonel Stratford. They’d been rehearsing almost nightly what they would say under interrogation. It was essential that their information was similar so the Kleese wouldn’t suspect they were being lied to.

“Excellent,” responded Queex, nodding his head. “If you do so then all of you will return to this habitation dome alive.”

Queex then signaled and they all formed up under escort of a number of conscripts in Type Two battlesuits. Once more, all the conscripts were armed with heavy-duty stun rifles.

“I guess this is the moment of truth,” Autumn said in a low voice as she stepped up next to Ryan as they marched out of the habitat through the large metal hatch.

“We’ve practiced enough,” Ryan said equally quietly. “If we stick to the information we’ve agreed to reveal we should be fine.”

“As long as no one panics,” Brice commented from just behind them. “I’m not worried about us, but there are several lieutenants in Colonel Stratford’s command I’m not so sure of.”

“They’ll do okay,” Ryan said. “They wouldn’t be in charge of a platoon of Type Three battlesuits if they weren’t qualified.”

“I hope you’re right,” Brice said, lightly touching the metallic collar around his neck. “Our lives are going to depend on it.”

They marched through a number of corridors, eventually taking a station tram to a point deep inside the trading station. Ryan wondered if there were any trading ships docked in the flight bays and if they might report seeing humans on board. The station was responsible for all the races the Kleese controlled in Sector Twelve and numerous ships from those worlds should be present conducting business with the Kleese.

As they went through the station, Ryan noticed over half a dozen different alien races on board. He hoped all of them weren’t as devoted to the Kleese as the Nabians seemed to be. Most of them just ignored the humans; a few stopped and stared in open disbelief. They all seemed to know who was responsible for the current revolt against the Kleese. All the aliens Ryan saw were humanoid. He knew there were other non-human races in the galaxy; the Kleese were a good example. However, the arachnids seemed to prefer the humanoid races as conscripts over the non-human ones.

Queex led them to another hatch and stepped through. Once everyone was inside, they were told to set down at a long table and wait for their turn to speak with the Kleese. The conscripts in battlesuits remained inside, taking up positions against the four walls.

“Why do I feel like I’m about to be executed?” grumbled Brice. He was sitting next to Ryan and Autumn was on the other side.

Another group of Nabians entered the room and took Colonel Stratford and Major Nelson with them. A few more minutes passed and more Nabians appeared, taking several of the waiting lieutenants. Ten more minutes passed and the sound of a sharp explosion shook the room slightly. Everyone looked at one another fearing what the explosive sound might mean.

Several Nabians stepped back inside and one of them went over and spoke to Queex, who frowned and then turned to face the remaining lieutenants. “It seems one of your number refused to answer a question. He will not be returning to the habitat; his body will be jettisoned into space.”

One of the Nabians who had just entered stepped over to Ryan. “Follow me, human,” he spoke in his stilted voice.

“See you back in the dome,” Autumn said, her eyes focusing on Ryan.

“I’ll be there,” Ryan promised, as he stood up to follow the Nabian out of the room. He could feel his pulse racing, as he fought down his nervousness about speaking to a Kleese. The collar around his neck suddenly felt extremely tight and restrictive.

They went down the corridor a short distance, and the Nabian indicated for Ryan to step through a hatch. Ryan did so and heard the hatch slam shut behind him. Looking around the room Ryan felt his skin grow cold upon seeing the Kleese standing in front of him. There were also two conscripts in battlesuits as well.

“You will answer my questions, human,” the Kleese rasped in a cold and guttural voice. He raised the small black control box in his left hand and pointed to it with the other. “Failure to do so will result in your immediate termination.”

“I will answer your questions,” Ryan answered in an even voice. He tried to calm his breathing, as he took several deep breaths.

“How many humans still remain in your star system?”

“I don’t know the exact number,” Ryan answered, as he tried to focus his eyes on the Kleese. “Many were rescued after your exploration ship fired the planet killer into the heart of our planet. The survivors are scattered across our system and their numbers are known only to our highest leaders.”

“How many warships do you have?”

“Our military leaders keep that classified,” answered Ryan, trying to keep his voice level. “My own task group consists of one troop ship and four light escorts. We have heavier ships but I’m not sure of the total numbers.”

“How many human battlecruisers are there?”

“There are six in the fleet that is with the Alliance,” Ryan answered truthfully. “There are several other fleets in our home system and I assume they have a similar number of battlecruisers.”

“How many worlds in the Alliance?”

“I’m not sure,” answered Ryan. “It grows weekly and I believe there are at least twelve worlds currently involved, there may be more that I’m not aware of.”

“How many warships does the Alliance have at its disposal?”

“Nearly a thousand,” Ryan answered. “I haven’t been to many of the Alliance systems and I’m not aware of the size of their home fleets.”

“What is your job in your military?”

“I’m responsible for my platoon and conducting military operations against the Kleese Empire.”

The Kleese hesitated as its multifaceted eyes focused intently on Ryan. “How do your particle beam cannons work?”

“I’m not a technician or a scientist,” Ryan replied. “I know it shoots out some type of an energy beam, but I don’t know what it’s composed of or how it’s generated.”

The questioning went on for another thirty minutes with Ryan giving some detailed explanations on items which were not of strategic value and more vague or general answers on those that were. When it was finally over, the Kleese stepped slightly closer to Ryan.

“I don’t know how truthful your answers have been,” the Kleese grated out. “They will be compared to those of the other humans. If we determine there has been deception on the part of some of you then your lives will be forfeit.”

“I have told the truth,” answered Ryan in an even voice.

“Take him back to the dome,” the Kleese ordered.

-

Harmock gazed at the tactical display as his fleet closed on the planet in front of it. This was one of the last planets in Sector Twelve, which was not compliant with the empire. It was a powerful nonaligned world that produced high tech computer control systems. An exploration ship had been sent into the system to demand their immediate capitulation and allegiance to the empire. The Belens had refused, pointing out in no uncertain terms that they had a neutrality agreement with the Kleese Empire and they expected that agreement to be honored.

“Belen fleet detected,” reported Minor Overlord Gareth. He was standing behind Jalridd, the sensor operator.

“How many?” demanded Harmock. He was anxious to return to the trading station and pick up his human prisoners. It was time for him to confront the Kleese Council of Overlords and prepare them for the next stage of the war.

“One hundred and forty ships,” Gareth answered as he studied the sensor information. “Sixty of battlecruiser class and the rest are support ships of various sizes.”

Harmock crossed his long dark arms over his chest. He clinched the seven digits on his right hand into a fist. He had six hundred Zaltule battlecruisers with him to engage the approaching Belen fleet. “Spread the fleet out into six lines fifty across and two deep,” he ordered. This was a standard Kleese attack formation. “Screens to full and all weapons prepare to fire.”

-

The Belen admiral gazed in sadness at what his tactical displays were showing. Six hundred Zaltule battlecruisers would crush his fleet. He’d pleaded with his government to join the growing Alliance against the Kleese that was spreading throughout Sector Eleven. The government had turned mute ears to his pleas, claiming the Kleese would honor the neutrality agreement, which had been in existence for hundreds of years.

Admiral Trest had tried to make them see that all across the empire, the Kleese were violating the agreement and attacking nonaligned world after world. The government officials had shrugged off his words, calmly pointing out those worlds had probably done something to aggravate the Kleese and bring their wrath down upon them. The world of Belen had done no such thing, and the Kleese had no reason to send their warfleets against the peaceful nonaligned world.

For several moments, Admiral Trest contemplated fleeing with his fleet and seeking asylum in the Alliance. He felt sure they would welcome his ships. However, how could he abandon his world and allow the Kleese to possibly bombard it from orbit? He’d sworn to protect his home planet, but he had never expected to face an actual attack from the Kleese.

“Kleese battlecruisers will be in engagement range in twelve minutes,” reported First Commander Dasha. “All of our ships have their shields at maximum and weapons ready to fire.”

Trest nodded. It had been centuries since a Belen ship had fired a weapon in aggression. He’d heard the worlds of the Alliance were placing powerful ion cannons upon the surface of their planets to keep Kleese warfleets at bay. His own world only had this single fleet. In hindsight, it was obvious to Trest they’d been too trusting and complacent when it came to the Kleese. Now they were about to pay the ultimate price for that foolishness

“Continue on course,” he ordered in a voice that didn’t sound like his. He knew he was sending his fleet to its death.

“We could still turn and flee,” suggested Dasha. He and the admiral had discussed the Alliance and what their options might be if the Kleese attacked Belen. “This is a Zaltule warfleet and will not be easily intimidated.”

“No,” Trest replied in a somber voice. “Perhaps if we can cause enough damage to the Kleese fleet they may withdraw and leave our world in peace.”

Dasha said nothing in reply. He knew the Kleese wouldn’t withdraw. This would be the end of the Belen fleet. He’d always wondered what actual combat would be like, now he was about to find out. It would be his one and only battle.

-

“Nearing engagement range,” spoke Jalridd, as the Belen fleet continued to approach.

“The Belen government is demanding we recognize the neutrality agreement,” added Dalock from Communications.

“Never,” uttered Harmock, shaking his head in denial. “The neutrality agreements should never have been instated by the Council of Overlords. It was naive foolishness on their part.”

“Engagement range,” Jalridd informed Harmock, the Kleese Supreme Military Overlord.

“Fire!” ordered Harmock. He was impatient to get this battle over with and the planet subdued so he could return to the trading station in Sector Twelve and his human prisoners. The humans were the only worthy enemies he’d encountered in his long career as a Zaltule warrior and he was anxious to learn more about them.

-

Pulse fusion beams and energy weapons flashed out from the six hundred Kleese battlecruisers, smashing into the powerful screens of the Belen warships. Almost immediately several went down and bright explosions told of ships being instantly annihilated. Hatches on the Zaltule battlecruisers slid open and twenty-megaton antimatter sublight missiles vanished from their tubes to strike in bright flashes of energy against the Belen fleet. More ships died as their shields were overwhelmed and antimatter explosions gutted the hapless vessels. Space became aglow with the fury of the attack.

However, the Belen ships were not weak or powerless. From the surviving vessels, powerful energy beams leaped out to impact Kleese shields. Numerous hatches slid open and Belen sublight antimatter missiles vanished from their tubes to strike the inbound enemy warships. However, these missiles were different, as they had highly advanced computer guidance systems. In several instances, dozens of Belen antimatter missiles were directed against the exact same spot to detonate against Kleese energy shields. Almost instantly the shields wavered and weakened, and Belen missiles penetrated striking the Zaltule battlecruisers. Antimatter fire turned Zaltule battle armor into glowing plasma as the powerful counterattack swept across the Zaltule formation.

-

Harmock watched one of the tactical displays in unbridled anger as eight icons representing his warships suddenly expanded and then vanished. The ships had been annihilated by the Belen smart missiles. On one viewscreen, he witnessed an antimatter missile slam into the upper hull of a Zaltule battlecruiser, detonating on impact once the screen failed. The ship vanished in a brilliant ball of light.

“Their computer guidance systems on their missiles are allowing them to coordinate mass missile attacks on the same point of our shields within microseconds of one another,” Gareth informed the Military Overlord. “Our shields cannot handle so much energy being released in that brief of a time period.”

Harmock felt the Warrior’s Fire shudder and the lights dimmed. Moments later, the lights returned to normal and the damage control operator turned toward Harmock to report.

“Energy beam strike,” the large six-legged arachnid reported. “Four compartments have been opened to space. I have sealed off the adjoining areas.”

“Continue to fire,” Harmock ordered, determined to annihilate the Belen fleet. He’d already decided to place the Kleese collars of obedience around the necks of this planet’s foolish leaders. A few decapitations would quickly bring the rest into line to join the empire. This smart missile technology would also be of use to the Kleese in the new warships being built in the Zaltule shipyards.

-

Admiral Trest writhed in anguish as two more of his valuable battlecruisers were blown apart by Kleese antimatter missiles. On one viewscreen, a support vessel was being attacked, and even as he watched pulse fusion beams penetrated its failing energy screen setting off massive explosions until the ship disintegrated.

On another screen, heavy energy weapons fire from several Belen battlecruisers slammed into the top section of a Kleese warship, causing massive explosions and hurling glowing debris into space.

“Target that Kleese battlecruiser with sublight missiles,” Trest ordered. “We must destroy it while we have the opportunity.”

Dasha quickly passed on the order and a few moments later, the viewscreen was lit up as massive explosions tore the cruiser apart.

“We’ve taken out thirty-seven of their warships,” Dasha reported. It was more than he’d expected.

“Our own losses?” Trest demanded, his wide eyes focusing on his second in command.

Dasha’s pale face turned even whiter as he looked at the fleet losses. “Twenty-two battlecruisers and forty-seven support vessels. We won’t last much longer taking these types of losses.”

“We must withdraw,” Trest said in an emotionless voice as he realized defeat was at hand. “All ships to rendezvous in the Caltair system. Once there, we will conduct repairs and go to Lanolth. Perhaps they will help to free our world.”

Dasha nodded, relieved that they might not die today after all. He quickly passed on the order for the fleet to fall back and to enter Fold Space.

“We have twelve ships too heavily damaged to make it to the Caltair system,” Dasha reported with a grimace.

“Order them to cover our withdrawal,” uttered Admiral Trest in an even voice. “If we can survive and bring back help, then their deaths will not have been in vain.”

“Message sent,” reported Dasha, a moment later. He felt a sense of guilt leaving the twelve ships behind while the rest of the fleet fled to safety.

“Get us out of here, then,” ordered Trest. “We’ve already lost too much this day. Send word to any cargo ships or passenger ships they can join us at the rendezvous coordinates. Caution them we will only wait there a short time. At the first sign of a Kleese ship, we will leave.”

-

“Belen ships are fleeing,” Minor Overlord Gareth reported as the enemy fleet began withdrawing and entering Fold Space. “Some of their ships are too heavily damaged to flee and are still fighting.”

“A holding action while the others escape,” muttered Harmock, not pleased some of the Belen fleet was going to get away.

“Some of the civilian ships around the planet are entering Fold Space as well,” reported Jalridd, as a number of ships in orbit around the planet suddenly accelerated away and vanished.

“When we return to the trading station we will dispatch assault ships to search for the survivors,” Harmock replied. “When they’re found, we’ll send the necessary ships to destroy them.” Unfortunately, this was not the first fleet to flee rather than face total annihilation. The search for other scattered survivors was ongoing through a major part of the Kleese Empire.

A few minutes later, the last Belen warships had been reduced to glowing gases and debris. The massive Zaltule warfleet then advanced unopposed upon the inhabited planet. As they approached, pleas for mercy came in from the leaders of the planetary government. Even a few claiming the Belen fleet had attacked the Kleese against orders from the government to stand down. Frantic references were still being made pointing out that a neutrality agreement existed between Belen and the Kleese Empire.

-

It was several hours later and Supreme Military Overlord Harmock was down on the surface of the planet in the main meeting chamber of its planetary government. Six headless bodies lay on the floor before him, their blood pooling together on the cold stones. All were the former top leaders of the Belen people. The remaining members of the planetary government were being rounded up and Kleese collars of obedience placed around their necks.

There were several other Belen government officials still in the massive chamber and they had sworn allegiance to the Kleese Empire. Seeing their fellow government officials beheaded had quickly swayed them to the wisdom of joining the empire unconditionally. There would be no further resistance to Kleese rule.

“It’s time to depart this world,” Harmock said to Gareth, standing next to him holding the black control box which had been used to execute the government leaders. “We shall return to the trading station and collect our prisoners, and then it will be time to return to the home world and meet with the council.”

“What will you tell them?” Gareth asked. For months now he’d been encouraging Harmock to take a harder stance toward the Kleese Council of Overlords.

“They are either with us in this war or against us,” Harmock said in a cold voice. “The first hatchings of our Queens have occurred by now and soon our numbers will swell. It’s time the Zaltule take over as the dominant force in our empire.”

“That is good to hear,” Gareth replied. “The Kleese are the ultimate race in the universe and we should rule all others. The Zaltule caste is the most superior sect of the Kleese. It’s only correct we take our rightful place as rulers.”

Harmock nodded. He’d been hesitating until he felt he had the necessary military strength to sway the council to his way of thinking. The only one who might stand in his way was Xatul, the Supreme Overlord of the Kleese race. Only he controlled the necessary forces to be a potential problem. Harmock was determined that by the time he reached the council he would have a solution to that aggravating dilemma.

Chapter Seven

Deep in Kleese space was the Kleese home world. The planet orbited a small K Class star slightly cooler than Earth’s. The sun was yellow-orange in color with twelve orbiting planets. The fourth planet was nearly devoid of life due to the early bloody years of the Kleese civilization and the internecine wars they’d fought for dominance of the planet. Much of the planet had been laid to waste from the weapons used in those horrifying conflicts. When the wars finally ended, only one faction of the Kleese race had survived. The others had all been exterminated and their nests destroyed. The Kleese were egg layers, and females laid multiple eggs. Great pain had been taken by the winning faction to make sure all the nests of their enemies were eliminated.

Xatul was standing at the front of the large stone table in the Great Hall of the Council of Overlords. His multifaceted eyes moved over the other nineteen Overlords as his thoughts dwelled briefly on the strong points and weaknesses of each one. His eyes fell on Syndat, who was potentially the third most powerful Overlord because he controlled three of the massive Kleese trading stations. Out of the twenty Overlords present, only four of them were Zaltule. Their primary spokesperson was Darthu, who served as a military science advisor to Harmock the Supreme Military Overlord.

“Harmock has sent word he will soon be returning to the home world,” Darthu announced. “He has captured a group of humans and is bringing them back for study and interrogation.”

“Humans!” spat Aktuub, shaking his head violently. “They are nothing more than a pest that needs to be exterminated. Why does Overlord Harmock feel the need to bring them here?”

“In case you’ve forgotten, these humans have formed an Alliance of nonaligned worlds, which currently stands against the Kleese Empire,” replied Darthu, folding his long dark arms across his powerful chest. “These human pests as you call them have been responsible for a number of setbacks in our expansion plans and have even defeated a number of Kleese fleets, including fleets of the Zaltule.”

“You speak as if they are our equals,” commented Bixutl, who was the second most powerful Kleese Overlord. He’d long been concerned about these humans; in many ways they reminded him of the Zaltule with their ability to wage war.

“Perhaps they are,” answered Darthu in a low and guttural voice. “It is sheer folly to believe that somewhere in this galaxy there are not other races which may be as powerful or as intelligent as the Kleese.”

“Blasphemy!” roared Raluth his long fingers pointing accusingly at Darthu. “This is all a trick of the Zaltule to increase your power in the empire by using these humans to frighten the weaker minded.”

“I assure you I am implying no such thing,” responded Darthu in an even voice. “We must determine just how dangerous these humans are.”

“I am more concerned about another item,” Xatul interrupted, his multifaceted eyes focusing resolutely on Darthu.

True the humans and this upstart Alliance were a threat, but not when the vast size of the empire was considered or the assets available to fight a war if needed. After all, the Strell had been defeated in a short and bloody conflict, but in the end their substantial empire was added to the Kleese Empire and now the Strell were faithful servants. He was more concerned about a threat from within.

“What?” asked Darthu, seeing Xatul’s eyes were focused on him. Of all the Kleese Overlords, Darthu only feared Xatul. The Supreme Overlord had already demonstrated his power by eliminating three Zaltule, who had been members of the council. Darthu was determined not to experience the same fate.

“I have heard reports that the Queens the Zaltule took out of deep sleep have laid eggs and the first hatchings have already occurred.”

“Hatchings?” uttered Keluth, looking accusingly over at Darthu. “Why were we not informed eggs were laid? It was the understanding of this council that the Queens were only removed from deep sleep for their own safety. This council has not given permission for the Queens to be bred and the size of the warrior caste increased.”

“We have lost warriors in the conflict with the Strell as well as with some of the nonaligned worlds,” Darthu responded calmly. He’d suspected this question might come up eventually. “Military Overlord Harmock felt it was necessary to replenish our losses as well as ensure we have sufficient numbers of the warrior caste to operate the new battlecruisers we’re building at the shipyards.”

“How many have been hatched?” demanded Xatul in a cold and calculating voice. This might be his opportunity to bring the other Overlords of the council over to his way of thinking in dealing with the Zaltule.

“Forty thousand,” answered Darthu carefully. He didn’t tell Xatul that another twenty thousand eggs would hatch shortly.

The members of the council looked uneasily at one another, each lost in his own thoughts. Breeding was strictly controlled in the Kleese Empire, as it was not uncommon for a Queen to lay several thousand eggs during a mating session. Uncontrolled breeding could quickly lead to overpopulation of the empire and bring their economy crashing down.

“What about additional Queens?” persisted Xatul, his voice taking on a sinister context. “Were more Queens produced?”

Darthu felt a sudden uneasiness. How had Xatul found out? A number of eggs had been specifically selected and using genetic manipulation changed over from male to female. Twenty young Queens were now hidden deep within the nests.

“I don’t have that information,” responded Darthu, trying to deflect the question.

Xatul gazed coldly at Darthu. His spies had told him of the creation of additional Queens. The Zaltule were obviously planning to greatly increase their numbers and when that occurred, would be a serious threat to the Kleese, who currently inhabited the empire. Xatul had a strong and growing suspicion the Zaltule planned to become the dominant caste of the Kleese. Once that happened, they would rule the empire and the other castes would be delegated to secondary roles.

“Find out,” Xatul ordered in a commanding and uncompromising voice. “No new Queens are to be produced without the explicit permission of this council.”

“Perhaps it would be best to speak of this to Supreme Military Overlord Harmock when he arrives,” suggested Darthu. “He will have the information you have requested.”

Xatul leaned back on his six legs as he gazed at Darthu. It was obvious the Zaltule knew of the new Queens and wasn’t willing to share that information with the council. This type of subterfuge only reinforced what Xatul feared.

“What about new weapons?” asked Raluth. “The Zaltule have conquered numerous former nonaligned worlds. What new technologies do you have that are ready to be shared with this council?”

“We’re still working on several promising weapon systems,” Darthu was quick to answer. “In just a few short months, we’ll be able to equip our ships with more powerful energy shields as well as greatly increased pulse fusion weapons.”

“Will you share that technology with this council?” asked Raluth once more.

“When the technologies have been perfected they will be shared with the council,” Darthu replied.

Xatul knew the Zaltule was lying. His own sources had informed him that a number of new technologies had been discovered and were currently being installed on the next generation of Zaltule battlecruisers. Xatul was certain it was only a short matter of time before the Zaltule made their move to control the council and in turn, the empire. It was nearing time to put other plans into motion to ensure his own survival. He’d already given the order to keep one hundred and ten exploration ships in orbit of the home world at all times. Even a Zaltule battlecruiser would have a hard time eliminating one of the huge ships without suffering considerable damage in return. It would be necessary to bring in several other members of the council if his plans for survival were to succeed. Syndat, and possibly Bixutl, were strong possibilities. He would speak with them in private to see if they could be trusted.

“We will wait on Overlord Harmock,” Xatul announced, knowing he had no other choice. “He shall report directly to the council and we can determine our future action at that point.”

“I will inform the Supreme Military Overlord,” Darthu responded. He’d taken note Xatul had not used Harmock’s given title. “If he agrees to come before the council will his safety be guaranteed?”

“It will,” answered Xatul. “He will be granted safe conduct to and away from the meeting.”

“I am certain under those conditions the Supreme Military Overlord will come,” spoke Darthu, nodding his triangular shaped head.

“This meeting is adjourned,” Xatul informed the other council members, nodding his head in satisfaction.

Xatul left and retired to his personal chambers. He was about to set some plans into motion which could have serious consequences for the Kleese Empire. He’d received a message from Minor Overlord Creedanth, who was in command of the exploration cruiser that had picked up the humans from Diadem. Creedanth had been hatched during the same hatching as Xatul and owed his allegiance to the Supreme Overlord. Creedanth was certain Harmock intended to return to the home world and take over the council. Xatul had no intentions of being here when Harmock returned.

-

Back in the solar system, Colonel Wade Nelson was aboard the troop assault ship Defender. The Argyle was docked nearby and Wade was currently meeting with Commander Greer of the Defender and Commander Anton of the Argyle as well as Marken.

“As you know, our mission is to take over the trading station in Sector Twelve and bring it back to the solar system,” Wade informed the others. “Admiral Adamson will be in overall command of the mission as Seventh Fleet will be going along to take out any Kleese warships defending the station.”

“Conquer another trading station,” Commander Greer said with a deep frown lining his face. “There could be thousands of conscripts on that station as well as a hell of a lot of warships.”

“Conscripts are generally in Type Two battlesuits,” Wade reminded them, recalling his own time aboard a Kleese trading station. “Our own Marines will be in Type Three and Type Four suits.”

“Still,” Commander Anton said, shaking his head doubtfully. “We’ll be seriously outnumbered as soon as we drop out of Fold Space, and the Kleese on the station will know we’re coming. Once they recognize human ships, they’ll be determined to hold the station at all costs.”

“We may have some surprises for them,” Marken said, entering the conversation. “Kalarn and Larnell have been working with Delton and Talt computer techs and they’ve come up with a possible method to disable the station once we arrive.”

“How?” asked Wade, his eyes widening in surprise. This was the first he’d heard about this. He had been expecting a fierce and gruesome battle to take the station.

“We got the idea from you humans,” Marken replied with a knowing grin. “Before your world was destroyed you had a number of computer hackers on your planet who seemed to take great joy in planting destabilizing programs in your worldwide internet, causing servers to crash or become stuck in a loop.”

“Viruses,” responded Wade, realizing now what Marken was suggesting. “Are you implying Kalarn and Larnell can plant a computer virus in the trading station’s systems?”

“Not only that, but once we’re on board we can take complete control of the trading station when we reach a terminal where we can download the program.”

“Flight Control for the flight bays,” Wade suggested as he thought about how the trading stations were laid out. “It’s close to the outer edge of the station and there are several flight bays nearby. If we can take one of the flight bays, we should be able to reach Flight Control and take it.”

“Once we have Flight Control and download the virus program we can effectively shut down any part of the station we like,” Marken said.

“It’s a good idea,” Commander Greer said after a moment. “Assuming we can get close enough to the station to get our Marines aboard.”

“We’ll be taking a full load out of Marines in both the Defender and the Argyle,” Wade informed them. “In addition, there will be forty assault ships with full complements of Marines. I plan to take as many of the flight bays as possible in our initial attack. By sending in the assault ships first, we may be able to get some Marines on board before the Kleese realize what’s happening.”

“That’s nearly four thousand Marines,” spoke Commander Anton with his eyes growing wide at the number being used for this operation. “We’re going to be risking a lot.”

“An equal number will be going with the Leviathan and her fleet,” Wade added. “If this mission is a success, we can seriously hamper the Kleese war fighting capability in our sector of space for several years. It’ll buy us time to bring more worlds into the Alliance and increase the size of our fleet as well as bring several new weapons systems into use.”

“This is a dangerous gambit,” Commander Greer said, taking a deep breath. “But if we succeed, it will be well worth it.”

“What about Alliance ships?” Commander Anton asked. “I assume some of them will be going along since one of the stations is going to Lanolth.”

“Yes,” Wade answered. He’d spoken to General Mitchell in great length about this. “Both attacking fleets will have a large contingent of Alliance ships. This is a joint operation and we’ll be working with a number of Alliance worlds, including several which have only recently joined.”

“Two trading stations,” uttered Greer, shaking his head at the idea. “I can’t believe we’re really going to attempt this. If we succeed, we’re really going to piss the Kleese off.”

“We just can’t screw it up,” Wade said. “A lot will be riding on these two missions.” Wade was anxious to get the missions underway. He knew that with each passing day, the likelihood of rescuing Ryan was fading.

The four spent the next couple of hours making more plans and setting up schedules for training as well as assigning specific Marine units to different ships. It was tedious work, but necessary if they wanted the mission to succeed.

-

Once the meeting was over, Marken accompanied Wade back to Wade’s home. Harnett was waiting there as she’d been busy inspecting several of the more advanced medical facilities in the habitats. Since returning with the equipment to make medical nanites, she and several other Kivean doctors had been extremely busy showing human doctors how to use them. Medical nanites made cures, which normally took weeks or months into a minor stay in the hospital, with most recipients only staying for a few days. Bones could be mended, organs repaired, and deep cuts seemed to close themselves in just a matter of a few minutes. To many human doctors, the technology seemed miraculous.

They were walking through the Viridian habitat on the way to the small house Wade and Beth had made their home. It still amazed Wade at how normal everything seemed inside Vesta. If one didn’t know better, they would think they were back on Earth in one of its modern cities though Viridian was missing most of the noise and had none of the pollution Earth once did. It was also a stark reminder of what had been lost when Earth had died.

Wade stopped and frowned as he saw a group of young people in front of them. There were four young men and two women. All were wearing shirts with slogans on them denouncing the cloning program.

Marken looked at them and sadly shook his head. “It’s hard to believe after everything Cheryl Robinson has done to try to make people understand the clones are just as human as they are, that so many people are still opposed to the program.”

Gesturing for Marken to follow him, the two crossed the street so as not to be noticed by the group. There was no point in causing a scene if it could be avoided, and the anti clone groups didn’t need any more ammunition to use against the government program.

“People have always been resistant to change,” Wade said, as they continued down the street. “I think as time passes, the resistance to the program will continue to decrease.”

“I hope you’re right,” Marken said. “I was visiting with Mason and Adrienne the other day and they said dissatisfaction with cloning has dropped nearly ten percent over the last few months. Cheryl has been making a point of letting people know that a lot of clones have died in the fighting to keep the solar system safe. However, there are still a lot of people opposed to the program such as those young people we just saw.”

“What were you doing at Masons?” asked Wade curiously.

“His niece, Karen, is working with Harnett as an intern,” Marken explained. “Harnett says someday Karen will be an outstanding doctor.”

“That’s good to hear,” Wade replied. He knew her father, Michael Kirby, who used to be the Fleet Admiral, would be very proud of his daughter. Looking back across the street, he could see the group of young people entering a restaurant. “It’s a shame more young people aren’t like her.”

“They’ll come around,” Marken responded as they turned down a street toward the residential neighborhoods. “Even Kivean children rebel from time to time.”

With a deep sigh, Marken wished he and Harnett could have a child. However, the Kleese had operated on Harnett and ensured that could never happen. Even with their advanced medical science, there was nothing they could do to reverse what the Kleese had done. It was one of the reasons Marken had revolted against the Kleese to begin with. Such a cruel and heartless race had no place in this galaxy. His risk at freeing the humans was his people’s way to ensure that someday the Kleese would no longer be a threat.

-

General Mitchell let out a deep breath as he looked across his desk at Fleet Admiral Kelly, Fleet Commander Achlyn, and General Pittman. They were discussing the upcoming attack on the trading stations and Fleet Commander Achlyn had just put forth a surprising proposal.

“What you propose is risky,” Fleet Admiral Kelly said, as he thought about what Achlyn wanted to do. He hadn’t expected the Delton fleet commander to make such a proposal.

“We’re already building a spacedock to build more warships,” Achlyn responded. “We’ll need the crews.”

“We did it with the Kiveans,” commented General Pittman. “We rescued a lot of them from their home world before the Kleese finished its destruction.”

“Your world could suffer the same threat,” warned General Mitchell. “If the Kleese become aware you’re removing members of your race from the planet they could use antimatter missiles to cleanse its surface of life.”

“My people are too close to the center of the empire,” Fleet Commander Achlyn replied somberly. “Even if we win this war against the Kleese someday, it could be many years before Delton is free once more, if ever. With the help of the Kiveans, we have built a good place for our people to live.”

“How many of your people are you proposing rescuing?” asked General Pittman.

“A little over four hundred thousand,” Achlyn replied.

“Four hundred thousand!” uttered Pittman, his eyes growing wide at the number. “Even using our passenger ships we could never move that many over such a distance.”

“We’ll put them into cryosleep,” explained Achlyn. “Working with the Kiveans we have designed a medical nanite which will slow the life processes of a Delton down to very low levels. They will only require minimal monitoring via a small device on the arm. If there is any type of problem, the device will notify a medical technician.”

“Cryosleep,” spoke Fleet Admiral Kelly. Every day it seemed as if the Kivean and Delton scientists were coming up with something new. He knew the Kleese used cryosleep on their captured conscripts.

“It will work,” Achlyn added. He was determined to rescue more of his people and this might be the only opportunity. “We’ve already tried it out on a number of volunteers for a period of four weeks and there were no harmful side effects, other than some weakness for the first few days after being awakened.”

“How do you propose rescuing your people?” asked Kelly. This was a big operation the Deltons were proposing. It would have to be very well planned or it could end in disaster. They would also be risking a lot of valuable ships.

“There’s a blue giant near our star system with four large gas planets in distant orbit. We’ll hide our fleet in one of the planets’ dense atmospheres and send out a number of stealth shuttles capable of entering Fold Space for the short trip to our home planet. We have a list of people we’ll be searching for to bring back. We’ll land teams on Delton and as we locate the people on the lists they will be escorted to a waiting shuttle.”

“How large a fleet are you proposing to construct?” asked Kelly. The Deltons had been playing a major role in the war and he wouldn’t mind having more of their battlecruisers added to the fleets.

“One hundred battlecruisers,” responded Achlyn promptly. “The new ones we’ll be building will be twelve hundred meters in length, equipped with more powerful energy beams as well as a plasma cannon.”

“How soon until you launch this mission?” General Mitchell asked. He knew he could hardly refuse Achlyn’s request. For months now, his ships had been helping to defend the solar system and were a major part of Seventh Fleet.

“Two months,” Achlyn replied. “The only thing I would ask is if you could provide a few Marines to help protect our retrieval sites. Our people have never been used as conscripts and are totally unfamiliar with the use of the battlesuits.”

“I think we can arrange that,” General Mitchell replied with a nod. By then the trading station missions should be back and he would have the Marines to spare for this additional operation.

“How long will this mission last?” asked Kelly. He knew it would take quite some time to move four hundred thousand people in shuttles.

“As long as it takes or until we’re detected by the Kleese,” Achlyn replied. “If the Kleese detect what we’re doing we’ll depart immediately to avoid reprisals against our world.”

“Let us discuss this and I’ll get back to you,” Mitchell said after a moment. “If we feel this operation is feasible, we’ll support it.” This was going to be a massive undertaking and would have to be run by the president and the council as well.

“Thank you,” Achlyn said as he stood up. “My people owe you much and if this mission succeeds, we shall be forever in your debt.”

After Achlyn left, General Mitchell looked at the other two officers. “What do you think?”

“If the Kleese discover what Achlyn’s doing it could have some serious consequences,” General Pittman said with a deep frown. “On the other hand, I like the idea of rescuing more Deltons from right underneath the noses of the Kleese, if they have noses.”

“I want to send Fourth Fleet along with them,” General Mitchell said. He saw the stunned look on the faces of the other two men.

“Can we afford to send one of our fleets that far away from the solar system?” asked Pittman, feeling very nervous about the idea. Between the trading station missions and now this one that Fleet Commander Achlyn was proposing they were putting a lot at risk.

“Once we finish Achlyn’s rescue operation we could hit some Kleese targets deep within their territory,” explained General Mitchell, as he thought over what he would like to see happen. “It might force them to allocate resources to defend the important worlds in their empire. It will buy us more time, particular after we take the two trading stations from them. It could potentially change the course of this war.”

“I think Admiral Rivers would enjoy that mission,” sighed Kelly. Admiral Rivers almost daily requested Fourth Fleet be sent to the Alliance to aid in its defense. “He’s been anxious for several months now to see more combat.”

“Get with him and pick out some suitable targets,” General Mitchell ordered. “Targets which will hurt the Kleese and perhaps make them realize this war isn’t going to be fought just on their terms. Speak to Marken, Fleet Commander Achlyn, and Commander Pasha. Between them, they should be able to come up with a list of soft targets that could shake up the Kleese.”

Admiral Kelly nodded. Admiral Rivers was possibly their best tactician and would be excellent for this type of covert mission. All they needed to do now was pick out some targets, which would hurt or even slow the Kleese war machine. Idly, Kelly wondered where the Kleese main shipyards were. If they could sneak in and destroy them, the Kleese attack against the nonaligned worlds might grind to a halt. Yes, the more he thought about this attack, the better he liked it. It was about time they took the war to the Kleese core systems and let them know the fear of having their planets attacked. Admiral Kelly just wished he could go along, but his duty was here. However, he knew his turn would come. He seriously doubted the Kleese and particularly the Zaltule were finished with the solar system.

Chapter Eight

Ryan was awoken from his sleep by loud voices and then heard Gureen ordering all the Marines to assemble on the parade ground immediately. Rolling out of bed, he quickly dressed as he glanced out of the small window to his quarters. He and the others had long since realized this dome was used to train Kleese military conscripts. They’d been told explicitly to stay away from the small mountain as it contained live embedded weapons. Ryan recalled how Wade had mentioned several Marines he knew had been killed on such a mountain while they were being trained as Kleese conscripts.

It had been several days since the Kleese interrogation. He had been immensely relieved to learn that no one actually died. The Kleese had only acted as if one of the lieutenants had been executed to encourage honest responses to their questions. Even more surprising was the fact that the Kleese, who had interrogated the officers had been part of the station crew and not a Zaltule. Colonel Stratford had informed them that Gureen had mentioned the Zaltule had left to subdue another nonaligned world and once they returned, the humans would be leaving the station.

After finishing dressing, Ryan stepped outside, seeing other Marines exiting the nearby barracks. He could even hear Corporal Parker complaining about being woken up so early.

As Ryan neared the parade grounds where the Marines were slowly getting into their formations, he was surprised to see both Colonel Stratford and Major Stevens already there. Upon seeing Ryan, Major Stevens quickly walked over to him.

“Lieutenant,” began Stevens, keeping a watchful eye on Gureen. Gureen, at the moment, seemed to be more interested in getting all the Marines on the parade ground and wasn’t paying attention to the major. “I don’t know if we’ll get to talk again. They’re going to put us back on board the exploration ship and send us to their home system where we’ll be studied and interrogated in more detail.”

“I was hoping to stay here longer,” Ryan said, his eyes narrowing sharply. “Any hope of being rescued will vanish once we leave the station.”

“I know,” Stevens responded. “Lieutenant, both the colonel and I believe our battlesuits are aboard that exploration ship somewhere. We have to find them and see if the command suits can find the code to these collars so we can safely remove them. As long as these collars are active, we can’t fight back.”

“What are you orders, sir?” asked Ryan, seeing nearly everyone was on the parade ground.

“If you don’t hear from Colonel Stratford or myself you’re to act on your own. Find out as much information as possible and if you locate the suits, free your platoon. Use your own best judgment as to what to do after that. There are some assault ships in the flight bays of the exploration ship. They could be used to get back to the solar system or even the Alliance if you could activate one of them.”

“Are you telling me to leave the rest of you on board?” asked Ryan, his eyes narrowing sharply. He didn’t like the sound of that at all.

“It might not be possible to take over the exploration ship,” answered Stevens grimly. “If the odds are too great, I’m ordering you to seize one of the assault ships and get out of Dodge. I understand Sergeant Hunter and Corporal Adams have some flight training and could probably get you back to the Alliance.”

“Corporal Adams is pretty tech savvy,” Ryan said. “She could probably get us back home.” Ryan knew Lauren had nearly completed her basic fleet training when she had opted for the special project and the Type Four battlesuits.

“You may have no choice but to leave us behind,” Stevens reiterated. He looked intently at Ryan. “You must return home and tell General Mitchell and Major Winfrey what happened to us.”

“I won’t leave you behind, sir,” Ryan said in a determined voice. “We’ll find a way to get all of us back.”

Before Mark could reply, he saw Gureen glance in his direction with an annoyed look upon his face. He quickly went back to stand next to Colonel Stratford.

-

“Did you give him the orders?” Stratford asked in a low voice.

“Yes,” Mark replied. “Ryan is our most talented officer. If anyone can find our battlesuits and escape, it’s going to be him. Also there’s a chance his command suit might be different than the others.”

“What do you mean?” Stratford asked not understanding. “Why would his be different?”

“Marken helped with the programming of the suits, particularly when Harnett decided to include the medical nanites. Since he’s Wade’s brother, I wouldn’t put it past Marken to have added something special to that suit to be used in an emergency. I just hope he can find his battlesuit and escape.”

Stratford nodded. He’d already accepted the fact that most of them would never see the solar system again. If Lieutenant Nelson could escape, at least the people back home would know what had happened to them.

-

“Your questioning and time on this station is over,” announced Queex in a loud and commanding voice once he was satisfied Gureen and the other Nabian overseers had the humans ready. “The information gleaned from the interrogation of your officers will be turned over to the Zaltule. They will determine what further action is warranted.”

Queex fell silent as he studied the assembled humans. “What there is about your race that intrigues the Kleese is beyond me. We shall now return to the exploration ship. As a reminder, anyone who causes problems or threatens a Nabian or one of the Kleese will be terminated immediately.”

Queex then turned and signaled to a number of conscripts in Type Two battlesuits. A few minutes later, the humans were marched from the dome and down the corridors to where the exploration ship was docked.

-

“I guess we’re going back to our old quarters,” spoke Casey, as she moved up to march next to Ryan. At least they weren’t being separated.

“For now,” Ryan answered, as he thought about what Major Stevens had said. He needed to tell Casey about that conversation and hear her thoughts on the matter. He felt a cold chill run down his back at the thought of leaving the other Marines trapped on the exploration ship. No, if he could find the suits, they would either all return home or none of them would.

Glancing over at Casey, he wished there was some way he could spend some alone time with her. The lack of privacy recently had made him realize just how important she was to him. It also amazed him how their current situation paralleled what had happened to Beth and his brother. “Major Stevens wants us to find our suits and take over one of the exploration ship’s assault vessels and escape,” he spoke in a soft voice so no one else could hear.

“What!” uttered Casey, her eyes showing shock. “We can’t leave the others here!”

“That’s what I told the major,” Ryan answered. “Let’s see if we can find our suits first and then we’ll see what happens. Without the suits, there’s nothing we can do.”

Casey nodded. The last few weeks had been harrowing. Lauren and she had spoken quite often about their situation. Lauren had even suggested Casey go to Ryan’s quarters and become intimate. She had refused, not wanting her first experience with Ryan to be under such terrifying conditions. She hoped she didn’t live to regret that decision.

They continued in silence as they took a station tram to the vicinity of the flight bay where the exploration cruiser was docked. Going back on board they were escorted to the large assembly hall and told to form up and remain quiet.

Looking up on the stage, Ryan recognized Queex as the Nabian gazed out over the assembled Marines. The large door in the back of the stage opened and a Kleese stepped through. Ryan guessed it was probably Minor Overload Creedanth as it was difficult to tell individual Kleese apart.

“We will be departing shortly for the Kleese home world,” Queex announced in his stilted voice. “Once we arrive there you will be separated and sent to different locations for further interrogation and study. Those of you who cooperate fully will continue to live; those who don’t will be disposed of.” Queex stepped back and looked over expectantly toward Creedanth.

“Humans,” spoke Creedanth in a cold and harsh voice. “Our Supreme Military Overlord has ordered you to be taken to our home system. If it were up to me, I would exterminate all of you now. To me you are nothing more than vermin and a lower life form. I have studied the transcripts of your interrogations, and it is obvious there was an attempt to trick your interrogators into believing you were answering their questions truthfully. Your answers were too similar and held no valuable military information. I find it difficult to believe that as members of your planet’s military your knowledge of military matters could be so limited.”

Ryan shifted uneasily on his feet. It was obvious their attempt to fool the Kleese had failed. He glanced over at Colonel Stratford and Major Stevens, seeing the concerned looks upon their faces. Focusing his attention back on the Kleese Overlord he noticed with trepidation that the arachnid was holding one of the small black control boxes in his left hand.

“I will tolerate no more attempts at being mislead,” Creedanth said in a hard voice, raising the small black box and pointing at it with his long, slim fingers. “If it were up to me I would press the button on this control box that controls all the explosive collars around your necks and end your pitiful and menial lives. However, the Zaltule seem to have other uses for you and for that reason your lives have been spared.”

Ryan breathed out a sigh of relief. He had been expecting to hear the resounding sound of one of the explosive collars detonating, ending the life of another Marine. He knew he wasn’t the only one in the assembly chamber breathing a long sigh of relief.

“The Nabians will escort you back to your barracks. You will stay there other than being taken to one of the training chambers for exercise every other day. If any human is caught outside of their barracks, they will be immediately executed.” Turning, Creedanth exited through the open door, his legs making the familiar clicking noises as he left.

“You will now return to your quarters,” commanded Queex. “You will be allowed out two hours every other day for exercise. It is a ten week journey to the home system of the Kleese.”

There was some mumbling amongst the Marines as they realized just how far away from home they were going to be. In addition, being cooped up in their small, cramped barracks for such a long period of time was going to be extremely trying.

“It’s a good thing we have showers in the barracks,” commented Casey, her eyes focusing on Ryan. “Sounds as if we’re going to be stuck in our quarters for most of the trip.”

“We have to find a way out,” Ryan replied in a low voice as Gureen ordered them to follow him. “We must find our battlesuits. Once we arrive at the Kleese home system, I don’t think we’ll have any chance to escape.”

“That gives us ten weeks,” Casey said quietly, as they left the assembly chamber and began marching down the wide corridor under the watchful eyes of several conscripts in Type Two suits.

“We have to find a way out of our barracks if we want to search the ship,” added Ryan, as he gazed thoughtfully at one of the conscripts.

An idea was forming in the back of his mind. If somehow they could get a hold of a Type Two suit, they could move through the ship undetected. The Nabians wouldn’t know a human was in the suit, particularly if the wearer was careful not to incur the curiosity of any of the aliens. Now the next big question was how could they get one of the Type Two suits?

-

Supreme Military Overlord Harmock watched one of the viewscreens as the trading station began to recede. They would shortly enter Fold Space and begin the long trip back to the home system. He had left one hundred and twenty of his Zaltule battlecruisers behind to help protect the station as well as keep the worlds in this sector obedient to the Kleese Empire. The rest he was taking home to be updated. When he returned, he planned on bringing the majority of the Zaltule battle fleet to crush the Alliance and the humans. Six thousand Zaltule battlecruisers would be an unstoppable force.

“It will be good to return to the home world,” commented Gareth, looking up at Harmock, who was standing on the Command Pedestal. “The new hatchlings will be maturing rapidly and will soon be ready to assume their roles as Zaltule warriors.”

“Inexperienced warriors,” Harmock responded coldly.

“They will learn,” responded Gareth. “Those that are weak will die; it is the Zaltule way.”

“I am concerned Supreme Overlord Xatul may have found out about the hatchings,” replied Harmock, crossing his powerful arms over his chest. “Overlord Darthu is supposed to contact us if that occurs, but we are so far away from the home system that it takes weeks for a message to reach us.”

“It was necessary to bring up our numbers,” protested Gareth, his multifaceted eyes focusing intently on Harmock. “We lost many warriors in the war against the Strell.”

“The new Queens will be the problem,” Harmock spoke softly. Only Gareth knew Queens had been hatched as well. With them, in only a few years, they could dramatically increase the number of Zaltule. If allowed to breed regularly, Zaltule numbers could easily swell to over one hundred million in less than ten years. They would become an unstoppable force in the Kleese Empire.

“The council must not find out about the new Queens,” agreed Gareth. “They’ll realize we’re not satisfied with playing a military role in the empire but plan on controlling it and someday replacing the other Kleese as the primary members of our race.”

“We are superior,” stated Harmock in a hard and deadly voice. “None shall stand in our way, not even the council. It is our right to rule over the Kleese Empire and the inferior races.”

“And what of the humans?” persisted Gareth. Even as he spoke, the Warrior’s Fire made the jump into Fold Space. “Do you still think they’re our equals in battle?”

“Perhaps,” Harmock spoke as he thought over the human problem. “They have shown to be very ferocious in battle and have been the only race, other than the Strell, who have been able to defeat Kleese warfleets.”

“But the Strell now answer to us,” commented Gareth. “Their Queens in their Great Dens wear our collars of obedience.”

“Soon, so will the humans,” added Harmock. “Once we have studied their warriors we shall know their weaknesses and how to defeat them. With our new fleets, we will descend on their Alliance and annihilate it, bringing all of their worlds under our domination. Then we will strike the humans’ home system. If they resist, we’ll exterminate their entire race. If they surrender, then they may become valuable servants of the empire.” Harmock strongly suspected the humans would not surrender and would have to be eliminated.

“All should serve the Kleese,” responded Gareth. “It’s our destiny to rule the galaxy and all the inferior races shall serve us to increase and grow the empire.”

Harmock nodded. However, he knew it wasn’t as simple as that. Supreme Overlord Xatul was no fool; he’d shown he could be as harsh and uncompromising as a Zaltule. He also controlled enough of the powerful exploration ships to be a serious problem. It would be necessary to remove him to prevent the other council members from rallying around the Overlord. Harmock knew that would be no easy task. There was another option; Harmock could challenge Xatul for his leadership position. It would mean fighting a duel, which Xatul would be honor bound to agree to. However, there was no guarantee Harmock could win such a duel. If he were to fail in his gambit, then the future of the warrior caste would become in doubt. It was a future he wasn’t willing to risk. It would be necessary to find another way to remove the Supreme Overlord from power.

Once they were safely back in the home system with the humans, Harmock would contact Darthu to see how the council was reacting to the war against the nonaligned worlds and this new Alliance. They would also discuss Xatul and come up with a plan of action to eliminate or neutralize the Supreme Overlord of the Kleese.

-

Several days passed and Ryan was becoming impatient. They’d only been allowed out of their quarters once and that had been for only two hours.

“We need some cards!” complained Alexander, leaning back against the wall on his bunk.

“Quit complaining,” chided Lauren. She was doing pushups on the floor a few bunks over. “At least we’re getting three meals a day.”

Lauren stopped doing pushups and sat up. She knew they were in a serious situation and one they weren’t likely to escape from. Each time their meals were delivered, two Nabians wheeled the meal carts in under the watchful eye of either two or four conscripts in battlesuits. Lauren had the distinct feeling the conscripts were just looking for an excuse to shoot one of the Marines with the powerful stun rifles they carried. If Alexander didn’t watch it, he would be their first victim and Lauren knew how the corporal hated being stunned.

Casey was sitting next to Ryan. She’d been analyzing their situation, trying to find some way to change it. She was currently remembering what she knew about the Type Two battlesuits. They were not nearly as advanced as the Type Fours and in many ways seemed quite primitive.

“We need to take out the Nabians who routinely bring our meals as well as the conscripts,” she said in a thoughtful voice, looking over at Ryan. It was so difficult to be so close and not able to tell Ryan how she felt. She knew he must feel the same way.

“The suits are the key,” Ryan responded. He looked over at Lauren, recalling she was pretty good at technical problems. “Corporal Adams, I have some questions for you.”

Lauren quickly stood up and came over to stand in front of Ryan and Casey.

“What’s the simplest way to disable a Type Two battlesuit?”

“That’s easy,” Lauren said, her eyes narrowing as she wondered why Ryan was asking such a question. “Knock out its power. Without power, the suit is just a heavy piece of useless armor. The conscript inside probably couldn’t even move.”

“I don’t think knocking out the power is an option,” Ryan said, shaking his head. “What happens if a Marine is injured and cannot activate the opening sequence for the suit?”

“There’s an override switch on the back just below the neck,” Lauren replied. “Flip the switch and the suit will automatically open.”

“How hard is the switch to reach?”

“Not easy,” answered Lauren, biting her lower lip. “It’s slightly indented with a protecting flange to prevent the suit from accidentally being opened.”

“That’s it,” Casey said excitedly, her eyes widening. “If we can activate the suit override switch we can overpower the conscripts inside and take over their battlesuits.”

“Perhaps,” replied Lauren, knowing it wouldn’t be easy to do. Casey had mentioned to her what Ryan had been told by Major Stevens. “But as soon as the Nabians or the Kleese find out, they will just activate the explosive collars and then we’ll all be dead.”

“We need a plan,” Ryan said, looking at the two women. “There are twenty of us in this room; we need to be able to disable two Nabians and potentially two to four Type Two battlesuits all within a matter of a few seconds.”

“Two Marines to each Nabian and if there are four suits that leaves four of us to take out each one,” Casey suggested. “We’ll have the element of surprise on our side.”

“A conscript in a suit will have superhuman strength,” Lauren was quick to point out. “Even without the stun rifles they’ll be quite deadly. If all of us rush them, we’ll lose some people.” A conscript in a Type Two suit could easily snap a Marine’s neck with just the flick of his armor-encased hand.

“They won’t be expecting an attack,” Casey said earnestly, as she began working out a plan in her mind. “With luck, we could have most of them overwhelmed before they realize what we’re doing.”

“I wouldn’t use everyone,” Lauren said, as she thought over Casey’s suggestion. “If we’re all too close to the hatch, they might become suspicious.”

“It won’t do us any good if we can’t find my command suit,” Ryan said, standing up and looking intently at the other two. “I want us to begin practicing mock attacks on the Nabians and the conscripts. We can have some of our Marines pose as both until we have a sound plan that we feel comfortable with.”

“What about your command suit?” Lauren asked. “We have no idea where it is.”

“I may have an idea about that,” Ryan said. “The Nabians seem quite devoted to their Kleese masters, willing to do almost anything to please them. I think I may have a bone to give them.”

Lauren and Casey looked confused, as Ryan didn’t say anything else. Whatever he had come up with it was evident he was going to keep it to himself for now.

“I’m going to take a shower and get some rest,” Lauren said as she turned to head for the door at the far end of the barracks.

“You should get some rest too,” Ryan said, taking Casey’s hand and helping her off his bunk.

“So should you,” Casey said softly, reaching out her hand and gently touching Ryan’s face.

Casey then went over and lay down on her bunk, closing her eyes. At least in her mind she could have Ryan and dream about what a future with him would be like. A future that, at the moment, was very doubtful.

Ryan watched Casey as he stood next to his bunk. He’d come up with a daring plan which was risky, but just might work. If Gureen could be enticed to take him to where their battlesuits were stored, he just might have a way to pull off their escape. He drew in a sharp and deep breath as he thought over what he was going to do. It was actually quite simple. He was going to offer to reveal to Gureen the secrets of the Type Four battlesuits. He would explain to Gureen he had decided to cooperate with the Kleese, as he wanted his people to live. Ryan strongly suspected Gureen would jump at the opportunity to learn more about the suits so he could take credit to further advance himself in the eyes of the Kleese. The Nabian’s own desire to serve would be his downfall. Ryan would have to wait a few weeks before he made his offer; if he did it too suddenly he doubted if Gureen would buy into it.

It was a relief to finally come up with a plan that might lead to their eventual escape. There was one other thing also; he had left a message back in the dome where they had been held on the trading station for Wade. He just hoped that Wade would find it.

Chapter Nine

Colonel Wade Nelson was standing in the Command Center of the one thousand-meter troop assault ship Defender as the vessel dropped out of Fold Space into the Lanolth system. They were to rendezvous with Seventh Fleet and then continue to Sector Twelve and attempt to capture the large Kleese trading station which was responsible for the sector. It was a daring and risky plan and, if it succeeded, would throw a huge wrench into the Zaltule battle plans. Wade also hoped Ryan and the other Marines were still on the station though he knew the odds of that were now very small considering how much time had passed. For the last several weeks, he’d spent many sleepless nights worrying about the fate of his younger brother.

“Contacts,” called out Ensign Walton from his sensor console. “Picking up Alliance ships as well as Seventh Fleet.”

“Message from Admiral Adamson,” reported Ensign Snider from Communications. “He’s requesting we join his formation and we’ll get underway for Sector Twelve immediately.”

“Take us in,” ordered Wade, glancing over at Commander Greer. “We need to reach Sector Twelve as soon as we can.”

“Still hoping Ryan’s there?” asked Greer. He knew how close Wade and his younger brother were. The commander had been on several missions with Wade as well as his wife Beth. He’d been secretly pleased when he heard Beth was retiring from the military to take a safer job at Vesta.

“Yes,” answered Wade, turning to look at the commander. “I know a lot of time has passed, but we don’t know what the Zaltule planned on doing with Ryan and the other Marines. There’s still a small chance they could still be there.” He knew it was a small chance indeed, but he had to hope.

Wade turned his attention back to one of the main viewscreens. One of the two new battlecruisers, the Union, was on the screen. The one thousand-meter ship was an awesome sight. The other new battlecruiser, the Britannica, was visible in the distance. The ship on the screen suddenly swelled as the view was greatly magnified. Particle beam, pulse fusion, and energy beam turrets became visible as well as numerous closed missile hatches. It seemed as if every inch of the powerful ship was covered in weapons.

“It’s a Kleese warship killer,” commented Captain Alicia Damon, the executive officer. “I went aboard the Union before she launched on her space trials. She’s a marvel of technology and the Kleese possess nothing like her.”

“That’s what Gerald Lawson claimed,” replied Wade, recalling what the weapons specialist had told him. “He firmly believes the new plasma cannon the ship has will cut directly through a Kleese warship’s energy shield, even if it’s been greatly enhanced.”

“We’re going to find out,” Commander Greer said. “We’re bound to face heavy resistance from the Kleese when we try to take their trading station.”

“We’ll take it,” Wade responded. They had too. If Ryan and the others were still on board, this might be their one chance for rescue. If they weren’t, perhaps somewhere on the station was a clue as to where they had been taken.

-

Admiral Adamson nodded with satisfaction as the Defender and Argyle took their places in his formation. Forty assault ships loaded with Marines also supported the two large troop transports and they’d brought along the two new heavy battlecruisers.

“Those are big ships,” commented Commander Sandra Shepherd, gazing at one of the viewscreens showing the Union and the Britannica.

“The transports are each one thousand meters long and so are those two new battlecruisers,” Adamson said with a pleased smile. He was glad to see the fleet was finally building ships, which could stand up to a Zaltule warship.

He’d considered moving his flag to one of the two new heavy battlecruisers but decided to stay aboard the Constellation since he was intimately familiar with the command crew. He was also used to commanding fleet battles from the Constellation’s Command Center and he didn’t think a last minute change would be a good idea.

“All ships are in formation,” reported Lieutenant Lash as the Union and the Britannica moved easily into their designated positions in the fleet formation.

“Alliance vessels report ready for departure,” added Lieutenant Emma Travers from Communications.

Admiral Adamson nodded. There were Fourteen Alliance systems that had warships assigned to Seventh Fleet. Some of the more recent additions to the Alliance were still in the process of assigning ships to other Alliance fleet formations. There were three other fleets, not quite as large as the combined Seventh Fleet, that were assigned to defending Alliance space. It was hoped that within six months they would be able to add two more large fleets to help keep the Alliance safe from Kleese attack. Production of new and more powerful warships had become a top priority in the worlds of the Alliance.

On one of the viewscreens, the blue-white world of Lanolth could be seen floating in the blackness of space. Its five billion inhabitants were depending on the newly established Alliance to preserve their world. Lanolth was probably going to end up being the capital of the Alliance. It was a very advanced world and had assigned most of its warships to the Alliance fleets. Council President Raytol and the Lanolthian Ruling Council had been instrumental in bringing many of the other nonaligned worlds into the Alliance. In addition, the planet was very heavily defended. Each one of its primary cities was enclosed in a ring of powerful ion cannons.

“Lanolth Space Control has given us permission to leave orbit,” reported Lieutenant Travers. She’d been in near constant communication with the commanding officer of Space Control as instructions were being passed along for the fleet’s departure.

“Let’s get the fleet going,” ordered Admiral Adamson, feeling impatient to get underway. “We have a long trip ahead of us in Fold Space.”

“Coordinates set,” reported Lieutenant Jase Martin from the Helm, as he passed on the departure vector and speed to all the ships in the fleet. A few moments later, Martin turned toward the admiral. “All ships moving away from Lanolth at ten percent sublight and accelerating. Entry into Fold Space in twelve minutes.”

Adamson looked at the main tactical screen covered with a myriad of green dots. Including all the Alliance ships that had been added to Seventh Fleet he had six hundred and sixty-four heavy combat vessels as well as two hundred and forty assault ships. This was the most powerful Alliance fleet ever assembled. He also knew a second Alliance fleet was headed for the trading station in Sector Nine. Another human fleet had been added to that as well as the Leviathan, the other big assault ship, and the other two heavy battlecruisers. Both attacks were timed to occur within just a few hours of each other. Due to FTL communication lags over such long distances, the two stations wouldn’t be able to warn the other one when the attacks began.

The minutes passed as the large fleet steadily accelerated and then the fleet in mass entered Fold Space, instantly jumping to a speed of slightly more than three light years per hour. To observers back in the Lanolthian system, it would seem as if the fleet had just vanished. However, advanced sensors were still able to track the fleet, as it quickly left the outer boundaries of the Lanolthian system and entered the deep void between the stars. A few minutes later, even those sensors were no longer able to track the departing fleet. It had vanished into the deep depths of interstellar space.

-

On board the Defender, Wade let out a long sigh of relief as the fleet entered Fold Space and set course for Sector Twelve. He felt very apprehensive about what they would find when they got there. He’d promised his parents he would do everything in his power to bring Ryan safely back home. It was a promise he wasn’t sure he could keep. Even Beth had expressed her doubts about Ryan still being on the station when the rescue mission arrived.

Commander Greer leaned back in his command chair, glancing over at Wade. “We’ll be there in eight more days.”

“There are bound to be some Zaltule battlecruisers at the station,” spoke Wade in response. “We have no idea how heavily the stations have been armed, particularly those close to the Alliance.”

“There are always casualties in war,” answered Greer in a somber voice. “We all know that.”

“Eight more days,” repeated Wade, feeling impatient.

“What are you going to do if Ryan and the other Marines aren’t at the trading station?”

Wade was silent for several moments. This was something that had been weighing heavily on his mind. “It depends on what we find out on the station. If they’re not on board, we have to hope they managed to leave us a message.”

“That’s a long shot,” Greer said with a narrow frown.

“I know,” answered Wade in a quieter voice. “But it may be the only hope we have.”

-

The days quickly passed and the fleet was well into Sector Twelve. They were nearing the position of the large Kleese trading station, which allowed the Kleese Empire to dominate the sector. As a safety precaution, Admiral Adamson had dropped the entire fleet out of Fold Space in a brown dwarf system for a quick systems check. It also allowed them to perform routine maintenance that couldn’t be done while the Fold Space Drives were activated.

The system held no planets, only a small rudimentary asteroid field and a few wayward comets. The chance of being detected was almost nonexistent, but the fleet kept its sensors fully extended to give them sufficient warning if an unknown ship dropped out of Fold Space. The Alliance fleet stayed in the system for twelve hours and then jumped back into the safety of Fold Space once all ships reported ready for combat. They were fourteen hours from their target and would not drop back out until it was time for the attack.

“All ships have their assignments,” reported Commander Shepherd as she returned from Communications. She had just finished speaking to the Lanolthian and Nalton Admirals to ensure they understood their parts in the upcoming battle.

Admiral Adamson nodded. He was going to have most of the primary command crew to go get some much needed rest in a few hours. He wanted everyone sharp for the approaching conflict. With a feeling of sadness, he knew many of those in the massive fleet might not be returning home. The trading station was bound to be heavily armed and defended by exploration ships, Zaltule battlecruisers, and possibly hundreds of assault ships. Leaning forward in his command chair he wondered what they would find on the station. He sincerely hoped their abducted Marines were still there, if not it would be difficult facing Colonel Nelson. How do you speak to someone whose brother might be hopelessly lost in Kleese space and would probably never be seen again?

-

Minor Overlord Betel was standing upon the Command Pedestal in the trading station’s Command Center checking the existing inbound and outbound traffic. There were currently eight exploration ships either docked or in orbit around the station as well as seventy Zaltule battlecruisers. The other Zaltule ships were out on assignments policing the inhabited worlds of Sector Twelve to ensure there were no attempts to change allegiance and join the upstart Alliance that was flourishing in Sector Eleven. As a precaution, he also had forty assault ships out on routine patrol in the outer reaches of the star system the trading station called home.

“There are twenty-eight inbound cargo ships from empire controlled words,” reported Nastle from where he was standing in front of the station’s large sensor panel. “We have another thirty-two currently docked in the flight bays.”

“Inferior races,” commented Betel with distaste. “I wish we didn’t have to deal with them.”

“They furnish many useful products,” spoke up Minor Overlord Standt, who was the station’s second in command. “The products they deliver help to make our empire strong and they provide technologies we would otherwise have no access to.”

“Perhaps,” responded Betel dismissively. “They produce very little we could not produce ourselves if we truly felt it necessary.”

Alarms suddenly sounded and the conversations in the Command Center came to a sudden halt. Even the Nabians, who were normally communicating with each other, fell silent.

“Multiple ships dropping out of Fold Space,” reported Nastle. He reached forward with one of his dark and powerful arms, adjusting the sensors with the slim fingers of his right hand to get a better reading on the ships appearing on his sensors.

Standt gazed intently at the main tactical screen and then down at data appearing on a data display in front of him. “Alliance ships!” he stated, as his multifaceted eyes turned toward Betel. “Those are ships from the Alliance in Sector Eleven.”

“Take us to battle stations,” ordered the Minor Overlord, as he saw the tactical screen fill up with red threat icons. “Get the exploration ships undocked and begin launching all of our assault ships. Contact the Zaltule and order them to engage the Alliance ships at maximum range. They must not be allowed to damage this station. Bring all of our weapon systems online.”

“Why have they come here?” asked Standt, as he quickly passed on the necessary orders. Alarms began to sound and red lights began flashing.

“The human captives the Zaltule brought here,” replied Betel, blaming the Zaltule for this sudden attack upon his station. “They have come for them.”

“They are no longer here,” responded Standt.

“These humans don’t know that,” replied Betel coldly.

“Pulse fusion beams and energy batteries are coming online,” reported another one of the Kleese, who was responsible for the station’s weapons. Since the humans had taken one station and severely damaged another, all the remaining Kleese trading stations had their armaments greatly increased.

Betel watched as the Alliance fleet completed exiting Fold Space. When he saw the final numbers and the size of some of the warships, he began to feel concerned. The humans had killed Kleese in the past and were known to show little mercy toward members of the Kleese race. The humans preferred to use energy lances to cut off the heads of any Kleese they came across. Just as the Kleese showed no mercy toward members of inferior races, the humans treated the Kleese the same way.

“Order all conscripts into their battlesuits,” commanded Betel as an added precaution. “As soon as they have reached their defensive posts close all bulkheads and emergency hatches.”

“You don’t think they’ll actually invade the station?” asked Standt in disbelief, rising to his full height and making clicking noises with his six legs. “They wouldn’t dare!”

“The only way they can know for sure if the human captives are still here is to come aboard the station,” responded Betel sharply. “If they can board this station, they will!”

He’d firmly believed the stories of the human warriors were greatly exaggerated. No other race could compare to the Kleese in combat. He knew very shortly he would find out if those rumors were true or not. The mere fact the Zaltule had considered it of prime importance to abduct some members of the human military seemed to indicate they were deeply concerned about this race.

“How many human ships are we detecting?” demanded Betel, beginning to grow worried. On one of the viewscreens, he could see assault ships exiting the flight bays. On another screen, one of the exploration cruisers was in the process of undocking from the station.

“Part of the inbound fleet is indeed human,” Standt replied, as he studied more data on his screen. “They also have over two hundred assault ships.”

“They’re going to board,” predicted Betel. Gazing at the main tactical screen, he knew from the size of the attacking fleet there was very little he could do to stop them. “Inform all members of our race to put on their battlesuits; tell them the humans are coming.”

“I’ll also increase the number of conscripts guarding the Command Level,” added Standt, deciding to take the extra precaution. Looking around the Command Center, he gazed at the three different races of conscripts operating many of the control stations. Only the Nabians were truly obedient; the rest might panic if the battle showed signs of not going well. Standt picked up the small black control box from the top of the console in front of him. If there was any panic or hesitation following his orders, examples would be made very quickly.

Betel nodded as he turned away from the tactical screen and gazed at the heavy metal hatch that protected the Command Center. He hoped he didn’t regret refusing to allow any of the Zaltule to serve as station security. He’d made it very plain to Supreme Military Overlord Harmock that his own conscripts were sufficient to defend the station if it ever became necessary.

-

“All ships have exited Fold Space,” reported Commander Shepherd.

“Contacts!” called out Lieutenant Lash, as red threat icons began appearing on the tactical screen.

“All ships set Condition One,” ordered Admiral Adamson. “Stand by to fire weapons.”

The Command Center came alive with intense activity as the crew prepared for battle. Orders were sent out and the fleet rapidly formed up into an attack formation.

“Zaltule battlecruisers are on an intercept course,” warned Lieutenant Lash. “Engagement range in eight minutes.”

“How many?” demanded Adamson, as he focused his eyes on the tactical screen. It was full of the numerous friendly green icons of Seventh Fleet and its allies. There were also a considerable number of red threat icons and one large group was clearly headed toward the fleet.

“Seventy,” answered Lieutenant Lash.

“We’ll engage the Zaltule ships first,” Adamson said, seeing that the exploration cruisers were staying close to the station. He could also see numerous assault ships were being launched and were taking up defensive positions around the larger ships.

Switching his comm unit on, he quickly contacted the heavy battlecruisers Union and Britannica. “Commander Davis and Commander Lucian, you are free to engage the approaching Zaltule battlecruisers. We’ll use attack plan T-3. Commander Davis, you will attack the Zaltule’s left flank along with the Lanolthian battlecruisers. Commander Lucian, you will take the right flank along with the Nalton battlecruisers. I’ll hit the center with the rest of Seventh Fleet as well as the Tureen and the Delton vessels. Show no hesitation and no mercy. I want those Zaltule warships annihilated. We have the numbers and superior firepower to do just that.”

“What about the rest of the fleet?” asked Commander Davis over the comm channel.

“As soon as we engage the Zaltule they’ll be going in with the Defender and Argyle to attack the station.”

“Four minutes to contact,” called out Lieutenant Lash.

“Good luck and good hunting,” spoke Admiral Adamson as he closed the comm line.

On the tactical screen, the Alliance fleet seemed to split up into four sections. The Union, Britannica, and Constellation had a total of over two hundred and sixty heavily armed ships about to engage the Zaltule. The Alliance ships had superior energy shields and weapons. However, the Zaltule ships were three kilometers across and one thousand meters thick. Their hulls were covered in weapons emplacements, with pulse fusion batteries and energy turrets everywhere. Hundreds of small hatches hid sublight antimatter missiles ready to be launched at a moment’s notice. Unlike the larger Kleese exploration cruisers, these ships were designed for war and there were no large training facilities for conscripts or holding areas on board. The entire ship was filled with power systems and narrow corridors, which would make it nearly impossible for a conscript in a battlesuit to traverse. These ships were designed for fleet battles and planetary bombardment.

-

Admiral Adamson felt his heart begin to pound as they rapidly neared the approaching Zaltule warships. Even though they had the advantage, the Zaltule ships were extremely dangerous and deadly. They could cause a lot of damage if they got too close.

“Engagement range,” called out Lieutenant Lash, as a light on his console began flashing red.

“All batteries, open fire,” ordered Commander Shepherd, as her hands gripped the armrests on her command chair. She leaned forward, drawing in a deep breath. She could feel her heart beating in her chest and her breathing had sped up.

All along the line of ships, weapons fire was initiated almost simultaneously. Pulse fusion beam fire and particle beams slammed into the Kleese formation, shattering shields and setting off massive explosions as ship armor was penetrated. On the main viewscreen, the bottom section of a Zaltule battlecruiser was hit by a bright blue particle beam blasting huge pieces of debris off into space. It left behind a glowing hole in the hull, and internal explosions could be seen deep inside the gash.

The Kleese were also firing back. Numerous antimatter missiles slammed into the light cruiser Odin, and the ship vanished in twin fiery explosions.

“Light cruiser Odin is down,” reported Lieutenant Lash.

The Constellation shuddered as several antimatter missiles hit her energy shield, severely jarring the ship. The tactical screen seemed to flicker and then cleared as the screen returned to full power.

“No damage,” reported Commander Shepherd as the various departments reported in. “Shield is back up to 92 percent. Those were twenty-megaton antimatter missiles that struck our screen.”

“All fleets task groups are engaged,” reported Lieutenant Lash.

-

The heavy battlecruiser Union fired her heavy plasma cannon at a nearby Zaltule warship. No one was expecting what followed. The beam flashed through the shield in a cascade of brilliant light and slammed into the top section of the ship. The entire ship seemed to glow for a brief moment and then blew apart in a violent explosion. Commander Andrea Lucian, upon seeing the devastating effect on the Kleese ship, instantly ordered a full spread of the new multi-warhead antimatter missiles to be fired. There was no doubt in her mind that the two human heavy battlecruisers were the most powerful ships in the Alliance fleet and even more powerful than a Zaltule battlecruiser.

Instantly, along the entire right flank of the Zaltule fleet, a series of powerful antimatter explosions tore through energy screens, leaving numerous hulls open to attack. The eighty accompanying eight hundred-meter long Nalton battlecruisers fired their heavy energy beams as well as more antimatter missiles at the weakened enemy ships. Zaltule battlecruisers died in brilliant explosions of fiery light as megatons of antimatter energy were released. The Zaltule were now in the same position as most of the nonaligned world fleets they had attacked and annihilated in the past.

Along the left flank, the Britannica fired her new particle beam cannons at a nearby Zaltule battlecruiser. Commander Davis watched the ship’s main viewscreen, as beams of brilliant blue light flashed through the energy screen of the Zaltule warship as if the screen was nonexistent. Massive explosions tore through the ship, disabling it, and then a multi-warhead antimatter missile finished killing the ship. In just a few moments, all that was left was a scattering of glowing gas and burning debris. The Lanolthians were firing their heavy ion cannons nearly nonstop, disabling Zaltule energy shields or severely weakening them. Each time a shield failed or developed a hole, an antimatter missile was fired.

In the center of the formation, Seventh Fleet was firing their pulse fusion weapons, particle beam cannons, and numerous multi-warhead antimatter missiles. In addition, the sixty Tureen battlecruisers were firing their forty-megaton antimatter missiles in sprint mode at the advancing Zaltule. The Deltons were attacking with their heavy energy beams, hitting Zaltule ships anytime a shield faltered or failed.

“Eighteen Zaltule ships are down,” reported Lieutenant Lash excitedly. “We’ve lost two Nalton battlecruisers, one Lanolthian battlecruiser, and two Tureen battlecruisers so far.”

“Intensify the rate of fire,” ordered Admiral Adamson determinedly. He had the Kleese in a meat grinder and he didn’t plan to let them out. Their arrogance in attacking a superior fleet was about to end in their demise.

-

In the Command Center of the trading station, Minor Overlord Betel gazed in unbridled shock at the large viewscreens showing close-ups of the raging battle occurring in space. The humans and their Alliance were eliminating the Zaltule ships as if they were a minor nuisance.

“This can’t be!” grated out Standt, as he looked at the latest data from the tactical screens. “The Zaltule are the warrior caste; they can’t be defeated in battle like this.”

“We know now why the Zaltule are so concerned about these humans,” muttered Betel, as he shifted his attention to the conscripts, who operated the controls in the Command Center. A number had stopped performing their duties and were staring in awe at what was occurring on the viewscreens. With little more than a passing thought, Betel pressed several buttons on the small black control box on one of the consoles upon the Command Pedestal. Instantly, half a dozen small explosions rang out as the designated conscripts were eliminated. In the last few minutes, a few more Kleese had made it to the Command Center to take their posts. Most were now in their battle armor.

“Notice those two large human warships,” Betel pointed out, as he adjusted a control, and one of the ships he was speaking about grew in size on one of the viewscreens. “I have been observing it, and it’s firing a plasma beam as well as particle beams. Both weapons are so powerful that our shields are useless against them.”

“Those are inferior races,” spoke Standt, turning his full attention back to Betel. “How can they defeat the Zaltule? The Zaltule are the greatest warriors in the galaxy.”

“Are they?” asked Betel, as he turned to look at the human ships on the viewscreens. He now understood fully why the Zaltule were so concerned about the humans. “Order the exploration ships to withdraw.”

“What?” uttered Standt, not willing to believe what he’d just heard. “We don’t flee from inferior races or vermin!”

Betel gazed long and hard at the viewscreens as more Zaltule battlecruisers died in fiery explosions. “I’m not so certain they are as inferior as we have believed. There is a reason why the Council of Overlords elected to sign all of the neutrality agreements with so many highly advanced worlds. If the exploration cruisers stay here, they will inevitably be destroyed. Send them to Sector Fourteen.”

“What about the assault ships, are we to send them away also?” demanded Standt.

“Of course not,” replied Betel sharply. “They’re operated by conscripts and their lives are of little value.”

-

In space, the battle between the Zaltule battlecruisers and the Alliance ships continued to intensify. Antimatter explosions lit up space on both sides as numerous missiles detonated against energy screens and occasionally ship armor. When an antimatter missile detonated against the hull of a ship destruction was almost immediate as the metal turned into glowing plasma.

The Delton battlecruiser 224-331 was under heavy attack. The ship had become cut off from the main fleet and was under fire from three Zaltule warships. A Kleese pulse fusion beam penetrated the weakened shield, blowing an energy beam turret apart and blasting a gaping hole in the ship’s armor. The ship took a massive hit to her bow, losing most of her heavy weapons. In desperation, the ship’s commander turned his vessel broadside to bring his remaining weapons to bear. However, the shield was now far too weak to halt the massive onslaught of pulse fusion beams, which began hammering at the hull, ripping open compartment after compartment. In a massive explosion, the Delton battlecruiser blew apart.

-

“Delton ship 224-331 is down,” reported Lieutenant Lash.

“The Arrow is reporting a major hull breach,” added Commander Shepherd with grave concern in her voice. The Arrow was one of Seventh Fleet’s six battlecruisers.

“Get me a detailed report on the Arrow,” ordered Adamson, wincing at the news. He couldn’t afford to lose one of his larger warships. “Have the light cruisers Renown and Dresden move closer to the Arrow to give her additional covering fire. All ships are to go to continuous fire on all weapons and missiles. I want this battle ended yesterday!” Adamson was watching the tactical screen intently as the embattled ships were now within just a few hundred kilometers of each other. Very few if any weapons were missing their targets.

“Admiral, the Kleese exploration ships are pulling out!” reported Commander Shepherd, as she watched the eight giant ships leave the vicinity of the trading station and accelerate away from the battle. In a matter of just a few moments, the eight ships vanished as they entered Fold Space.

“They’re gone,” added Lieutenant Lash, as the eight red threat icons vanished from his sensors.

“What about the assault ships?” Adamson asked. Perhaps the battle for the station was going to be easier than he had expected.

“Still here,” Lash answered. “They’re taking up defensive positions around the station.”

“Of course,” uttered Shepherd, shaking her head. “The assault ships are obviously crewed by conscripts and to the Kleese their lives are meaningless.”

“Colonel Nelson is closing on the trading station and should be within combat range in another ten minutes,” Lash added.

Adamson nodded. On one of the main viewscreens, he saw another Zaltule battlecruiser explode as a Tureen forty-megaton antimatter missile detonated against its hull. The ship vanished in an all-consuming fireball of energy.

“They only have six warships left,” Commander Shepherd informed the admiral. “Why aren’t they withdrawing?”

“They’re Zaltule,” answered Adamson, his eyes narrowing sharply. “They will not withdraw without orders from their Supreme Military Overlord and I suspect he’s long gone.”

“Along with our abducted Marines?” asked Shepherd with concern in her voice.

“Probably,” Adamson responded with a deep sigh. Even as he watched, the overwhelming weapons fire from the Alliance fleet annihilated the last Zaltule battlecruisers in brilliant fireballs of fiery destruction. “Get me a status on all fleet ships and the condition of their crews. I want to know the casualty figures.”

As he waited for the report, he ordered the fleet to set course for the trading station. He strongly suspected that by the time they got there, Colonel Nelson would have annihilated the defending assault ships and be preparing to board. If everything continued to go as he hoped, they would soon have another Kleese trading station under their control. After some technological updates and major modifications, the station would become a major ship building facility for the human race. He also greatly feared the Kleese would retaliate in a strong way for the humans taking the station.

Chapter Ten

Wade felt the Defender shudder violently as several Kleese pulse fusion beams impacted the ship’s energy screen. They were in a vicious fight around the trading station. The fleet’s assault ships, the Defender and Argyle, as well as four hundred Alliance battlecruisers were steadily advancing on the station. Opposing them were nearly three hundred Kleese assault ships and the heavily armed station.

“No damage,” reported Captain Alicia Damon, the Executive Officer. “Energy shield is holding at 92 percent. All systems working at optimum levels.”

On the main viewscreen, the massive trading station could be seen. Bright flashes of light surrounded it as the Alliance ships tried to break through the defending assault ships. Weapons’ fire from the trading station was intense as dozens of pulse fusion beams and energy beams flashed out toward the attacking vessels. On one of the screens, a number of beams speared a human assault ship, penetrating its energy screen and blasting huge holes in its armor. The ship vanished in a bright fiery fireball.

“Take out the weapon emplacements on the trading station,” ordered a grim faced Commander Greer over the ship-to-ship com channel to the other ships in the fleet. The trading station was heavily armed, as he had feared.

On the main viewscreen, the massive one hundred and twenty-kilometer station was putting up a powerful defense. The pulse fusion and energy weapons were making it nearly impossible to approach the station to land the assault ships with Marines on board. Commander Greer had moved the Defender and Argyle closer, as they had the most powerful shields next to the heavy battlecruisers. They could handle the punishment the station was putting out, but only for a short while. Both troop assault vessels were using their KEW batteries to blast the weapon emplacements to oblivion on the station carving deep glowing holes into the hull. The KEW batteries would normally be used for bombarding planetary targets and they were ideal for taking out the station’s weapons.

Around the station, two groups of assault ships were fighting a violent duel to the death as they swirled around each other in what could only be described as an intense dogfight. The Nabian commanders were determined to keep the Alliance ships away from the station and were fighting a desperate battle to do just that.

“Assault ships 452, 487, 492, 515, 535, 546, 612, and 625 are down,” Ensign Walton reported as friendly green icons on his sensor screens vanished. He felt a deep sadness, knowing the crews on those ships had died.

On the main viewscreen, brilliant fireballs marked the death of the valiant assault ships. The crews had given the ships names, but due to the number of assault ships in the human fleets numbers were still used to designate them in battle. Each assault ship had a crew of fifty and ten Marines.

“The Waltarns have lost two battlecruisers to weapons fire from the station,” added the ensign as he kept track of losses to the Alliance fleet. “The Preen have lost three.”

Greer shook his head in dismay at the ship losses. They’d known this battle wouldn’t be easy. “Continue to target the weapon emplacements on the station,” he ordered. “The weapons fire is still too intense to send in the assault ships with our Marines.” He knew that Wade’s plan called for the forty assault ships with Marines to secure a number of flight bays and then the Defender and the Argyle would move in.

“The Carlton, Shin, Marsten, Eldred, and Klein battlecruisers are moving in to engage the assault ships,” reported Captain Damon as she watched the tactical screen.

-

Out in space, the Kleese assault ships were now finding themselves in a precarious situation. Heavy weapons fire from the Alliance battlecruisers were smashing through their shields and the attacking human assault ships were taking advantage of the weakened shields to blast the Kleese assault ships with multiple pulse fusion beams and occasional particle beams. Violent fiery explosions were evident all around the massive station as ships were blown apart.

Pulse fusion fire from multiple Alliance warships would slam into the Kleese assault ships setting off massive explosions and hurling glowing debris into space. The Nabians operating the ships were frantic as they saw their best efforts to defend their masters being brushed aside. The very idea of the Kleese Overlords losing in battle was a foreign concept to the Nabians and one, until now, they had believed impossible.

The trading station was focusing its more powerful weapons on the Alliance battlecruisers. Four or five Kleese pulse fusion beams would strike a battlecruiser’s energy shield and in some instances penetrate, blasting deep glowing holes into ship armor. As the assault ships died, the station was becoming more reliant on its own weapons to hold the attacking fleet back.

-

Minor Overlord Betel watched impassively as the Alliance fleet continued to decimate his vastly outnumbered assault ships. Some Alliance ships were being destroyed, but not nearly as fast as the Kleese assault ships. He let out a deep and long breath, as he realized the inevitability of the space battle.

“Computer estimates all of our assault ships will be eliminated in another six minutes,” Standt reported, his multifaceted eyes focusing on Betel. “We have sent messages to the nearer trading stations and to worlds where Zaltule squadrons are located, but it will be a minimum of twelve hours before the nearest fleet unit can respond.”

“The battle will be over by then,” spoke Betel evenly.

“We have lost 32 percent of our pulse fusion and energy batteries,” another Kleese reported. “Those two large human warships are using kinetic energy weapons to take out our weapon emplacements. In addition, a number of the Alliance battlecruisers are now targeting our weapons as well. Weapon emplacements will all be eliminated in twelve more minutes.”

Betel nodded. There was little he could do but watch the battle on the viewscreens. He had deployed nearly twenty thousand conscripts in Type Two battlesuits throughout the station. Most of the crew had been sent to their domes to wait the battle out; only essential crewmembers were still at their stations. Idly, he wondered what the humans would do when they found out the human captives were no longer on board. Betel strongly suspected the station would be destroyed in a barrage of antimatter missiles. He felt the Command Center shudder slightly.

“Send an FTL message to the Council of Overlords,” he ordered in a cold voice devoid of emotion. “Inform them of the attack and the loss of the Zaltule battlecruisers. Let them know we expect the human led Alliance to destroy this station sometime in the next few hours.” The message would take several weeks to reach the Kleese home world even with the relay satellites between Sector Twelve and Sector One. The council would not be pleased when they learned of the destruction of the station.

Standt was watching the viewscreens and the tactical displays. He was finding it hard to accept what was occurring out in space. The Zaltule destroyed, their assault ships undergoing destruction, and the station itself was under attack. How could this be? The Kleese were the dominant life form in the known galaxy, all others were inferior or merely vermin. How could lower forms of life defeat the Kleese?

Betel stepped down from the Command Pedestal. Even this deep inside the station, he could feel faint vibrations from weapon impacts. Moving over to the side of the Command Center, he opened a large cabinet that contained his battle armor. It was a Type Three battlesuit, which he quickly donned. He then picked up an RG rifle off the rack and belted an Energy Lance to his waist. He didn’t know if the humans would attempt to take the Command Center or be content with merely destroying the station in a missile bombardment. In any case, he was prepared to die as a Kleese.

-

Six human assault ships were bracketing two Kleese ships. Pulse fusion beams and energy weapons fire was raining down on the two trapped vessels. Their energy screens had been substantially weakened and weapons fire was now penetrating and striking the hulls. Wherever a beam hit, glowing globules of hull material were blasted loose to drift away into space. Inside the two Kleese assault ships, conscripts were frantically trying to save their vessels. Emergency bulkheads had slammed shut and numerous compartments were sealed off, trapping conscripts inside. There was much confusion in the two ships. The command crew, comprised of Nabians, had watched in disbelief as first the Zaltule warships had been destroyed and then the exploration ships entered Fold Space to escape the attacking Alliance ships. This had left only the Nabian commanded assault ships to defend the valuable station.

In Engineering, the Nabian in charge watched in frustration as the ship’s fusion reactor shut down due to irreparable damage sustained from a pulse fusion strike. Even as he prepared to pass the information on to the ship’s Command Center, Engineering lit up in a sudden bright light as a twenty-megaton antimatter missile detonated, vaporizing the two hundred-meter ship.

-

“All Kleese assault ships have been destroyed,” reported Captain Damon, as she gazed intently at the large tactical screen. “All of our heavily damaged ships have pulled back to initiate repairs.”

“Defensive fire from the station is down by 70 percent,” added Lieutenant Kali Summers from Tactical. “We’ve taken out all major weapon emplacements near Flight Control. There are two flight bays close to it that are still open.”

“Send the first wave of assault ships in,” ordered Wade anxious to get the invasion of the station underway. “As soon as we’ve secured the two flight bays and Flight Control, we’ll dock the Defender to the bay. Inform Kalarn to be ready.”

Kalarn was one of the original Kiveans who’d helped in the human escape from the Kleese. He was going to upload the special computer virus into the computer system that the Kivean, Delton, Talt, and human computer technicians had designed. He was certain it could easily be done through the workstations in Flight Control.

-

Captain Jamie Stern was in her Type Three battlesuit waiting nervously as the assault ship she was in closed rapidly with one of the open flight bays on the trading station.

“Just like old times,” announced Sergeant Phil Dawson from her side in his southern accent.

“Yeah,” Jamie replied glad the experienced sergeant had been assigned to her company. “Just keep your head down and don’t go and get yourself killed on me.”

Sergeant Dawson nodded. It had taken them months to get over the deaths of Sergeant Russell and Captain Perry. They’d died in the battle at Centerpoint when the Zaltule had tried to retake the station. It’d been touch and go there for a while, but the human forces had finally won out. Russell had been Dawson’s best friend and the two had constantly taunted each other. It had been difficult adjusting to his loss and not hearing his constant bantering.

“Entering the flight bay,” a voice spoke over Jamie’s command circuit. “Atmospheric force field is still intact and bay gravity is at normal.”

“Stand by,” ordered Jamie, raising her armor-encased hand and closing her fist. “As soon as we exit, spread out and secure the bay. Other assault ships will also be landing. I want the hatches leading into the station secure, and everyone keep your battlesuits tight and be prepared for the Kleese to cut the atmospheric force field.” The feet of the battlesuits could be adjusted to anchor the suit to the floor of the bay if necessary and they contained their own oxygen supply.

Jamie felt a slight jar and the large hatches to the airlocks suddenly swung open. Metal ramps extended to touch the floor of the bay.

“Move out!” yelled Dawson, as he entered the hatch in his ten-foot tall battlesuit and charged down the ramp brandishing his RG rifle.

Captain Stern quickly followed the sergeant out, noting two other assault ships had landed in the bay and Marines were being deployed. There was also a trading ship from another alien species, but it seemed to be sealed tight with no visible signs of movement around it. “Prepare to move out into the outer corridor,” she ordered, seeing that Marines had made it to the hatches and were waiting. There were six hatches which led to the inner corridor, and all were shut.

“They must be waiting for us on the other side of the hatches,” spoke Sergeant Dawson. He was cradling his RG rifle in his metal arms and staring at the nearest hatch. He had fought battles in flight bays before and they were always costly.

“They’ll most likely be in Type Two suits,” Jamie replied as she reached the large hatch where Dawson was waiting. She spoke briefly to the two lieutenants in charge of the other two companies who had made it into the bay. “We have no choice but to charge out into the corridor and engage any enemy conscripts that might be there. Lieutenant Jarvis, leave one platoon here to secure the flight bay. Then I want you to station the rest of your people along the corridor as we secure it. Lieutenant Breck, your company will come with mine and we’ll try to reach the Flight Control Center.”

“Move us out, Sergeant,” ordered Captain Stern as she flipped the safety off her RG rifle. “Somewhere in this station we have Kleese to kill!”

Sergeant Dawson motioned for several Marines to move up closer to the hatch, and then he pressed the control panel which would activate the opening process. Almost instantly, the hatch swung open and inbound weapons fire blasted at the Marines. Everyone darted for cover as Sergeant Dawson calmly changed his RG rifle over to explosive rounds and fired two through the opening. A pair of echoing explosions rang through the corridor and into the flight bay. Billowing black smoke and flame seemed to fill the hatch and then Sergeant Dawson ran into it, firing his RG rifle on automatic. A full squad followed close behind and soon other Marines were rushing through.

Looking around, Jamie saw two other hatches had been opened and other Marines were hurrying into the corridor to reinforce those already inside. Taking a deep breath, she stepped through the hatch and was soon involved in a heavy firefight. It seemed as if the long wide corridor was full of conscripts in Type Two battlesuits trying to push the Marines back through the hatches. Both sides were blasting away at one another from pointblank range. The Type Three suits were heavier and offered better protection from weapons fire giving the Marines an advantage. From the number of conscripts they were engaging, they were going to need it.

Jamie felt several RG rounds impact her suit armor and, checking her HUD, was relieved to see her suit still showing green. However, other Marines had not been so fortunate. Six icons were showing red and fourteen others were amber. Raising her rifle, she fired several rounds down the corridor at a large group of conscripts firing at the Marines. Several RG explosive rounds went off amidst the group of conscripts and a number of them went down. The conscripts retaliated by firing their own explosive rounds which took out several Marines. Other conscripts could be seen hurrying down the corridor toward the battle.

“We’ve got to clear this corridor!” yelled Jamie over the general comm.

The RG fire increased and more explosive rounds went off. Several squads of Marines led by Sergeant Dawson charged toward the large group of conscripts. Dawson drew his Energy Lance as he drew near, swinging it at the nearest conscript and cleaving the battlesuit in two at the waist. The two parts crumbled to the deck. The Type Two battlesuits were vulnerable to Energy Lances.

The fighting rapidly switched over to hand to hand due to the close proximity of the two groups. Energy Lances became prevalent as the Marines charged into the conscripts. Type Two suits were not equipped with Energy Lances and the tide of the battle rapidly began to change as the conscripts began to panic upon seeing so many defenders being cut in two by the Marines. A few even threw down their weapons and ran the opposite direction deciding to risk the ire of the Kleese rather than the Energy Lance wielding Marines. Most though, elected to stay and die.

In moments, the corridor was full of dying and dead conscripts, their armor cut in two and the floor covered in pools of blood. The Marines continued to push down the corridor toward the Flight Control Center, meeting more resistance along the way. Several explosive rounds went off, sending Marines to the floor, their icons instantly changing to red and a few more switching over from green to amber.

It pained Jamie to see the dead as in most cases the explosive rounds blew the battlesuits apart leaving body parts strung across the corridor. She was beginning to fear she didn’t have enough Marines to reach the Flight Control Center.

“The Defender has docked to the flight bay,” a report came over the command frequency. “Reinforcements should be arriving shortly.”

Jamie acknowledged the message as she continued to push forward. A conscript suddenly appeared in front of her, knocking her RG rifle out of her hands. She grasped her Energy Lance, igniting it and swinging it at the Type Two suit in front of her. The lance easily cut through the armor and deeply into the chest plate. The conscript seemed to gasp and then fell to the floor, dead.

“What’s the status?” a voice next to her demanded.

Turning, Jamie instantly recognized the officer in the Type Three battlesuit. “It’s tough going, Colonel,” Jamie replied, wishing Wade had stayed on board the Defender. “They knew we were coming and have filled the corridor with conscripts. “We’ve suffered a lot of losses.”

“Captain Foster is reporting the same thing,” Wade responded. Captain Nicole Foster was pushing toward the Flight Control Center from the other side and was reporting stiff resistance. “We have to take that Control Center!”

“We will,” promised Jamie, as she stepped forward, moving farther down the corridor. The corridor was full of smoke and fallen bodies in armor, both Marines and conscripts.

Wade moved steadily down the long corridor just behind Captain Sterns and Sergeant Dawson. He had the distinct feeling the two officers were keeping him behind them to keep him safe. Raising his RG rifle, he fired two quick bursts down the corridor where another group of conscripts had suddenly appeared. For a full minute, the fighting was extremely fierce as both sides were now using RG explosives. Twice Wade was knocked to the deck, only to quickly stand back up and return fire. Looking at his HUD, he saw a lot of red and yellow icons indicating wounded or dead Marines. He felt ill realizing how costly this battle was becoming.

Unknown to Wade, Jamie had ordered a full squad to stay close to the colonel to ensure his safety. Just as they had always ensured Beth was safe, they were doing the same for Wade.

-

Betel had returned to the Command Pedestal and was gazing at a schematic of the station up on a large screen showing the humans’ advance.

“The humans have taken over two flight bays and moved out into the main corridor,” reported Standt. Standt was now also fully encased in his own Type Three battlesuit. “They seem to be moving in on the Flight Control Center.”

“I don’t see why,” responded Betel as he thought over what the humans might be attempting to accomplish. “Warn our fellow Kleese in Flight Control that humans are on the way.” It would do little good. The Kleese in Flight Control were unarmed except for the black control boxes they carried.

“The humans are all wearing Type Three battlesuits,” Standt continued, as he studied video footage coming in over several data feeds. “Our conscripts are trying to push them back to the bays, but they’ve been reinforced and were taking very heavy casualties.”

“Mere conscripts,” muttered Betel dismissively. “Their lives are of little value.”

“Most of our weapon systems have been destroyed,” Standt added as he received new reports from the Nabians monitoring those systems. “There are reports of additional human assault ships landing in four more of our flight bays.”

“Turn off the atmospheric force fields to all the bays,” ordered Betel. “That will make entering the main corridor much more difficult and some of the humans might be sucked out into space by the escaping atmosphere.”

Standt did as ordered, seeing on the video feeds that the removal of the atmosphere was having no obvious affect on the humans in the bays. He did see a number of conscripts, who served as laborers, pulled outside into space as the atmosphere escaped out of the flight bays. In addition, a number of cargo ships were blown out of the open bays also.

-

“Fuller, Ashton; put an RG explosive round in that adjoining corridor,” Sergeant Dawson ordered as they neared the Flight Control Center. It seemed as if more Kleese conscripts appeared at every junction. He didn’t know how many hundreds they’d already fought their way through.

They had blown open four sealed hatches so far just to get to where they were. The Kleese had sealed every hatch in the station and placed conscripts in all the corridors in between. More conscripts were continuing to swarm toward them and Dawson was hoping that eventually the sealed off compartments and corridors would be of help. At some point, there would be no more conscripts in this area of the station who could reach them.

Dawson heard a loud pop and felt his lower leg suddenly go numb. He stumbled and fell to the floor. Calling up his suit schematics on his HUD, he saw that he had been hit by an RG round through the fleshy part of his left calf. Already the suit was sealing itself up and injecting him with pain meds.

“Sergeant Dawson,” a concerned Captain Stern’s voice came over his comm. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” grunted Dawson, as he stood back up. “Just a minor nick. Suit’s sealing it up and I’m continuing to advance.”

Jamie breathed a sigh of relief. They were nearly to the Flight Control Center and she’d already lost enough Marines. Losing Sergeant Dawson would have been a major blow.

Wade saw Dawson’s green icon change to amber and heard the conversation between Stern and Dawson over the command frequency.

“We’ve reached the doors to the Flight Control Center,” Captain Foster reported.

It didn’t surprise Wade that Nicole had beaten them to their objective. She was a very determined officer. “Secure the corridor and wait until we arrive,” he ordered. “We’re only a few minutes away.”

It didn’t take them long to eliminate the final few conscripts between them and the Flight Control Center and soon Captain Stern and Colonel Nelson were standing in front of the large hatch next to Captain Foster. Wade noticed that Nicole had already placed explosives on the door to blow it open when given the order.

Wade took a deep breath and drew his Energy Lance. Looking at Nicole, he nodded as they stepped back away from the hatch.

A loud resounding explosion tore through the corridor amidst a bright flash and a cloud of thick dark smoke. The Marines charged through the door into the Control Center and were met by a hail of RG rifle fire from the dozen armed conscripts in battlesuits in the room. Several Marines fell from the heavy fire but the conscripts were quickly eliminated. There were four Kleese in the room, and all stood watching the humans. The twenty or so unarmed Nabians had retreated to the far end of the Control Center and were huddled together, chattering worriedly to each other.

“Stop!” ordered one of the Kleese, who was slightly taller than the others. “Surrender and we will allow you to live and serve us.”

“Why should we do that?” demanded Jamie in an ice-cold voice as she stepped closer to the Kleese brandishing her Energy Lance.

The Kleese didn’t answer as if not willing to believe death was close at hand. Jamie and half a dozen Marines suddenly charged the Kleese, swinging their Energy Lances. Loud sizzling sounds could be heard as the large triangular shaped heads of the Kleese were removed to fall to the floor, followed by their twitching bodies.

“Flight Control is secure,” reported Jamie, turning around to face Wade, her suit covered in Kleese blood. Half a dozen Marines moved over and began escorting the frightened Nabians out of the room.

Taking a deep breath, Wade sent word back to the Defender he was ready for Kalarn. Now they would see if the station could be taken without the risk of high casualties or if they were going to have to fight their way to the command deck corridor by corridor and compartment after compartment.

It took a few minutes but Kalarn arrived escorted by a full squad of Marines. Kalarn had body armor on but it was not a battlesuit. It had been specially designed by the Kiveans to give them some protection if they were caught in combat.

“How long will this take?” Wade asked. Normally it would have been Marken accompanying them on this mission. However, he was needed back in the solar system to help coordinate construction of the new ultra modern spacedock in Vesta.

“Just a few minutes,” Kalarn replied, as he sat down in front of a computer console and began attaching a special computer drive he’d brought. A short time later, the unit began flashing green indicating it was uploading the computer virus.

“Station systems are now coming under my control,” Kalarn reported with satisfaction in his voice, as he studied the information appearing on a portable computer pad he had brought with him. Kalarn quickly scanned the incoming data and then looked over at Wade, nodding his head. “We have full control of all station systems.”

Wade squared his shoulders and then passed on the necessary orders. “Shut down all fusion reactors and turn off life support systems except those to the civilian domes.”

Wade knew most of the civilian crew and families would be in the domes and spared from suffocating. Now all they had to do was wait. Most of the battlesuits would run out of air in twenty-four hours, eliminating the need to fight all the armed conscripts in the station. A few might find a way to recharge their suits, but most would not.

-

Betel stared in shock as power began going out in large parts of the station. “What’s going on?” he demanded, looking over at Standt.

“The humans have somehow managed to take control of the station’s systems,” Standt reported in disbelief. “They’ve shut down the fusion reactors and most of life support.”

“What about battery power?”

“Only on the command level,” Standt responded as he turned to face Betel. “They control everything else.”

“They’ve come for the station,” Betel stated in dawning realization. “They want to capture it just like they did the one in Sector Eleven.”

“The Zaltule have brought this upon us by attacking the nonaligned worlds,” uttered Standt, as he finally realized the danger they were in. “Where are the Zaltule now that we need them?”

“On their way back to our home system with their captives,” replied Betel coldly. “Our empire was steadily expanding with only minor resistance from the inferior races this section of our galaxy is infested with until the Zaltule were awakened. Now the nonaligned worlds are uniting against us and they are demonstrating they’re not as inferior as we’d thought.”

“The Council of Overlords must have known this,” grated out Standt. “That’s why they signed so many neutrality agreements.”

“Agreements the Zaltule have now made null and void,” responded Betel, as he saw numerous viewscreens changing to static and others ceasing to function completely. Many of the outside and interior video feeds had been cut. “Send a message to the council informing them we now believe the humans have come to seize this station and possibly others.”

-

Colonel Nelson listened to the reports coming in over the command communications channel. More assault ships had entered flight bays that Kalarn had opened up and in some cases filled with breathable atmosphere. Flight Control had its own emergency battery system and sufficient power to operate for a full forty-eight hours if needed.

“I have found records in the Kleese mainframe about captured human conscripts,” Kalarn announced. He had been searching the computer files relentlessly for any word of the missing human Marines.

“What did you find out?” Wade asked, as he listened to a report of the Argyle docking to the far side of the station. He waited tensely for Kalarn’s answer, hoping Ryan and the missing Marines were still on the station.

“They were here,” Kalarn confirmed. “For about two weeks.”

“They’re gone,” Wade said, feeling a huge emotional letdown.

“Yes,” Kalarn answered. “They left in an exploration ship with the main attack group of the Zaltule fleet. There are some vague references to the Marines being interrogated here on the station and the Zaltule departing with them to return to their home world for further questioning and study.”

“They could be thousands of light years away by now,” spoke Jamie in consternation, as she realized rescuing the abducted Marines was now out of the question.

Wade stood silently, feeling anger flow through him at not being able to rescue Ryan. If they could have launched the rescue mission earlier, there might have been a chance. Now that chance was gone forever.

“We need to take this station,” commented Nicole, suspecting Wade was feeling the loss of his brother. “We can worry about our missing Marines later.”

Wade took a deep breath, knowing Nicole was right. “Kalarn, can you find us several safe paths to the command level?”

“Yes,” Kalarn answered as he pressed several icons on his computer pad. “There will be some resistance, but it should be minimal.”

“I need corridors we can pass through as well as inter-station trams for our Marines as well as the Argyles.”

“I have safe routes for both groups of Marines,” Kalarn said after a few moments. “I’ll override the closed hatches as needed. I can send power to the necessary control panels from Flight Control.”

Wade slid his visor back down, sealing his suit, and turned to address Captain Stern. “I imagine the fighting on the command level will be intense. We’ll take five hundred Marines with us, securing the connecting tram hubs as we go.”

Jamie acknowledged Wade’s orders and quickly began contacting the companies of Marines that would be needed.

-

An hour later, Wade led his five companies deeper into the station. Major Jeffries was leading another five companies from the far side of the station where the Argyle and a number of other assault ships were docked.

They’d discussed waiting forty-eight hours to allow the conscripts between them and the command level to run out of air, but the danger of Kleese reinforcements arriving was too great to risk the delay. Fortunately, Kalarn, as he activated the power in each corridor, could use the station video feeds to keep Wade abreast of what was ahead of them.

“Kalarn says the next corridor has a large group of conscripts in Type Two battlesuits,” Jamie said in a cautioning voice.

“As soon as the hatch opens, fire some explosive rounds down the corridor. I’m not that concerned with the damage we may be causing. We can always repair it later.”

“Yes, sir,” Jamie replied, as she passed on the orders.

Satisfied they were ready; Wade gave the signal to Kalarn to open the hatch. Almost immediately, the hatch swung open and half a dozen explosive rounds were fired through it. Explosions rang out and Wade thought he could hear screams of fear and pain from inside.

“First squad forward,” ordered Jamie.

Half a dozen Marines ran through the hatch their RG rifles at the ready. Shots rang out and one of the Marines fell to the floor. The remaining Marines fired back and after a few moments, the firing came to a stop.

“Clear!” called out Corporal Stinson.

“One more corridor and we’ll be at a transit hub,” Wade said as he stepped through the hatch.

-

For the next four hours, they slowly fought their way through corridor after corridor and transit hub after transit hub until they reached the main corridor leading to the command level. They had suffered casualties along the way while eliminating hundreds of Kleese conscripts.

Wade had his Marines come to a stop as he waited for Major Jeffries to reach his attack position. The major still needed another twenty minutes to get where he needed to be. Checking his HUD, Wade saw he’d lost twenty-six Marines with another forty-seven wounded. There was just no cover in the corridors and even a Type Two battlesuit could be deadly to a Type Three in such closed in spaces.

“What’s the plan?” Jamie asked from Wade’s side.

Wade knew the next part was going to be the hardest. He didn’t want to damage the station too much, but he also didn’t want to lose more of his Marines. He strongly suspected the command level would be heavily defended. Taking a deep breath, he turned to face Captain Stern. “We’ll use suit explosives,” he said in a determined voice.

“Suit explosives!” uttered Jamie in surprise.

“Yes,” Wade replied. “I know they’ll cause a lot of damage, but there are several auxiliary control stations we could use to activate the station’s Fold Space Drive if needed.”

“Sergeant Dawson,” called out Jamie, turning around to look for the sergeant.

“I heard,” said Dawson, as he walked up to the closed hatch with a squad of Marines. “Open the hatch and we’ll fill the corridor with suit explosive rounds.”

More time passed until Major Jeffries was in position.

“Begin!” Wade ordered over the command communication channel.

On both sides of the large command level, large metal hatches swung open and Marines stepped through the hatch. Heavy weapons fire brought down the first few Marines before they could fire their suit explosive rounds. Marines behind them pressed forward and managed to get off a few rounds before they too were cut down. Then the rounds went off, shaking the command level and blowing huge, gaping holes in the floors and walls. Dark black smoke began billowing out and flames could be seen. More Marines entered the large corridor and additional violent explosions could be felt.

The conscripts, realizing what was happening, retaliated with their own weaker RG explosives and took out a number of Marines. But more of the deadly suit explosives blew gaping holes in the ranks of the massed defenders, dropping dozens at a time.

The Marines moved determinedly down the corridor, absorbing casualties where necessary and eliminating hundreds of Kleese conscripts who stood in their way with their heavy suit explosives. Some sections of the corridor were nearly impassable from the damage. For an hour, the heavy fighting continued until at long last Wade stood in front of the massive metal hatch to the Command Center with Major Jeffries, Captain Stern, and Captain Foster at his side. Behind them were strewn over a thousand dead conscripts in mutilated and destroyed battlesuits. A suit explosive round oftentimes blew apart battlesuits when it detonated. Wade had heard several Marines get sick in their battlesuits upon seeing the carnage they had caused. The long corridor was gory beyond belief and it was something none of them would forget.

“This seems familiar,” Sergeant Dawson said, recalling other attacks in the past, as he stared at the hatch. His battlesuit was covered with scorch marks and drying blood.

“There will be Kleese behind that hatch,” warned Jamie. “They’ll undoubtedly be wearing Type Three battlesuits and heavily armed.”

“Then we kill them,” uttered Major Jeffries. This battle had been costly enough and now it was time for the Kleese to pay.

“We end this now,” Wade said. He was anxious to find where the abducted Marines had been held to see if they’d managed to leave any type of message. He also wanted to get the station secured so they could set it on its course for the solar system, its new home.

-

Betel gazed emotionlessly at the large hatch, which protected the Command Center. Twenty conscripts in Type Two battlesuits stood in front of it ready to give their lives to protect the ten Kleese inside the room.

Picking up the black control box, he pressed three red buttons and small sharp explosions rang about the Command Center. All the conscripts serving as the command crew fell headless to the deck. “They’re no longer needed,” uttered Betel. “They would have been useless in what is to come.”

“Inferior beings,” replied Standt from the base of the Command Pedestal where he was standing in his battle armor, holding an energy cannon.

Betel didn’t reply. As the humans marched resolutely toward the Command Center, eliminating all opposition with near impunity, Betel had come to realize that here was an enemy possibly as fierce as the Zaltule themselves. It had shaken him to the core to realize his long held belief of Kleese superiority was being proven to have been false.

-

The hatch blew open and the Marines charged in, firing their RG rifles on automatic. A number of the waiting conscripts fell, but those still standing fired back, trying to defend their masters. An explosive round went off in the hatch blowing several battlesuits apart, killing the Marines inside instantly. More conscripts dropped as the Marines pushed deeper into the Command Center with weapons firing. The Kleese now stepped forward, firing both heavy RG rifles and energy cannons. More Marines dropped as the Kleese were more calculating in their attack. They chose each target and then fired their weapon until the target went down.

Wade flinched in anguish as fifteen more green icons swiftly turned red. However, he had hundreds of Marines at his disposal in the outside corridor and more rushed inside to take aim at the Kleese. In another minute, the battle was nearly over as all but one Kleese had been killed. Only the Kleese standing on top of the Command Pedestal still survived and with shock the Marines watched as the Kleese threw down its weapon

“I surrender,” Betel said in a calm and even voice. “Do not fire.”

“Hold your fire,” Wade ordered, as he stepped inside, eying the Kleese suspiciously. Walking over close to the Command Pedestal, Wade came to a stop gazing up at the Kleese. Sergeant Dawson and several other heavily armed Marines were standing with him. Dawson had his RG rifle aimed squarely at the center of the arachnid’s chest. “Why should we accept your surrender?”

“You came in search of your abducted people,” Betel replied, his triangular head focusing on Wade. “I can tell you where they went and what’s going to happen to them.”

Wade thought deep and hard for several long moments. This was obviously the commander of this station, which meant he was at least a Minor Overlord. “Kalarn,” Wade spoke over the private comm channel, which linked him to the Kivean. “I have the station’s commander offering to surrender. Any suggestions?”

“His name is Betel and he’s a Minor Overlord,” Kalarn replied. He’d already done more searches of the station’s mainframe to learn more about the Kleese in charge and what the Zaltule might be up to. “As much as I despise the Kleese and would like to see them all dead, he may have information we can use.”

“Very well,” Wade replied. He then turned his attention back to the Kleese. “I will accept your surrender, Minor Overlord Betel,” he said, wanting the Kleese to know they knew who he was. “If at any time you fail to answer my questions or refuse to cooperate, I will have you taken to the nearest airlock and blown out into space. Do you understand?”

Betel gazed coldly at the human. It was almost as if he was speaking to one of the Zaltule themselves. This human was deadly and he knew if he failed to do as this human demanded his life would be forfeit. However, the Zaltule had caused this problem and he felt no allegiance to the warrior caste.

“I agree,” he said.

“Sergeant Dawson, take two squads and escort this Kleese back to the Defender and place it in a holding cell. I’ll question it later.”

As the Kleese was led out, Wade looked around the Command Center, seeing the decapitated command crew. There was no doubt Betel had been responsible. With a deep sigh, Wade decided that if he thought the Kleese was lying to him during his interrogation he would indeed airlock the arachnid.

-

Hours later, Wade stood inside the small dome where the abducted Marines had been held. He gazed at the small mountain in the distance, which reminded him of the harrowing times he had went up just such a mountain during his time as a Kleese conscript.

“Sir, we’ve found something,” Captain Stern said, as she walked up to the colonel. She handed him a small sheet of paper that was folded up. “This was found in one of the officer’s quarters. It’s from Ryan.”

Wade wasn’t wearing his battlesuit, as it was no longer necessary. The station’s crew were still locked in their habitation domes and the few remaining Kleese were cornered in their private quarters at the heart of the station. Captain Foster was in the process of rooting them out. Once that was done, they would set course for the solar system and activate the station’s Fold Space Drive.

Taking the letter, Wade opened it with shaking hands.

-

Wade, I figure you will probably find this as there is no doubt in my mind that you’ll eventually lead a rescue mission to this station. We hoped to still be here when you arrived but that is not meant to be. In another few hours, we will be loaded back on board the Kleese exploration cruiser that brought us here and will be taken to the Kleese home world for interrogation and study. We hope to find a way to escape, but the odds are stacked very badly against us.

Tell Mom and Dad I love them and have no regrets about joining the Marines. Casey is still with me and she is truly a wonderful woman. I just wish that someday our children would have been able to follow in our footsteps.

You and Beth are two wonderful people. Mom and Dad need grandchildren and now that will be up to the two of you. Don’t let them down!

There are still two hundred of us alive but how much longer that will last is hard to tell. The Kleese and their conscripts, the Nabians, threaten daily to kill us. I will try with all my will to find a way to return, but if I don’t I just want to say that you’re a wonderful brother and I have always wanted to be just like you.

Love Ryan

Chapter Eleven

Ryan and his platoon were in one of the small training facilities going through a workout. For several weeks, the daily routine had been the same. Two Nabians would bring in two food carts three times each day. Every other day they were allowed out of their barracks for one to two hours of exercise. Each time they went to the training facility they were escorted by two conscripts in Type Two battlesuits carrying stunners. Gureen normally left it up to Ryan as to what the Marines did while he watched.

“Are you going to speak to Gureen today?” asked Casey. She was breathing hard as they were in the midst of a three-kilometer run. She was becoming anxious about the plan Ryan had decided upon to attempt to gain access to their equipment.

“I’m going to drop a hint,” Ryan answered. He and Casey were in the front of the platoon as they jogged in double file. “I can’t wait too much longer as each day we’re getting farther from home.”

“We haven’t seen any of the other platoons. I wonder how they’re doing.”

“I wish I could have spoken to Major Stevens longer,” Ryan answered as they jogged along the perimeter of the training facility. Major Steven had instructed Ryan to do whatever was necessary to escape even if it meant leaving the other abducted Marines behind. That was something Ryan didn’t feel comfortable with and had no intention of doing.

“I’ve spoken to Lauren, and she feels pretty confident that between the two of us we could fly an assault ship,” Casey said in between breaths. “We would just need some time to prep it.”

“Then all we need to do is find our equipment,” Ryan replied.

Casey and Lauren had taken some flight-training while at the academy at Vesta plus Lauren was really good at technical items. It didn’t surprise Ryan that between the two they would be able to fly one of the Kleese assault ships. They just needed to get to their equipment, find a way to remove the damn explosive collars around their necks, free the other Marines, and then fight their way to where the assault ships were berthed.

Ryan wondered if his brother had led a rescue mission to the trading station. If his guess on the time it should have taken to mount a rescue mission was accurate, Wade should have hit the station shortly after they left. He just hoped his brother found the message he’d attached to the underside of the desk in the quarters he had been using. It had been a long shot but it was the only thing he could think of. It all depended on how soon the Kleese had sent conscripts in to clean out the habitation dome after the Marines had departed.

“I wonder if there have been any more executions in the other platoons?”

Casey was deeply concerned the Nabians or the Kleese would continue to use the small black control boxes to eliminate any Marines they saw as a problem. Her hand went to the small metallic collar around her neck. It was a reminder of how their lives could be taken without warning. It was something they had learned to live with, however, it was always in the back of her mind.

Ryan saw Casey’s gesture and felt anger inside at what the Kleese had done to them. He recalled from what his brother had said, that when he and Beth had been captured they’d been forced to wear the Kleese collars of obedience for many long months. It wasn’t until Marken and his group of Kivean conspirators had disabled them that Wade and the others had led a successful revolt against the Kleese. They’d freed all the soldiers who were not in cryosleep as well as all the Kiveans upon the trading station. Only later had they returned and captured the station, returning it to Earth where the rest of the soldiers had been awoken.

“I’m going to stop this time around and try to speak to Gureen,” Ryan said, as he looked ahead to where the Nabian was standing. “Keep the platoon jogging around the facility until I rejoin you.”

“Be careful, Ryan,” Casey said in a deeply concerned voice. “Don’t do anything to aggravate Gureen.” She would just die if Ryan angered the Nabian and ended up getting his head blown off.

“I won’t,” Ryan promised as he stepped out of formation.

Alexander and Lauren saw the lieutenant began walking toward Gureen and knew Ryan was about to try the gambit he had been speaking of.

“I hope this works,” Alexander said as his eyes followed Ryan.

“It had better,” replied Lauren. “If it doesn’t, we’ll soon be at the Kleese home world and, once there, I don’t believe we’ll have any chance of escape.”

“Greetings, Gureen,” Ryan said as he stopped in front of the seven-foot-tall Nabian. “I would like to speak to you of a matter that would be beneficial to both you and myself.”

Gureen eyed Ryan suspiciously, debating whether he should send the human back to his group. He made it a policy not to speak with conscripts unless absolutely necessary. However, the humans were not actual conscripts, they were captives of the Zaltule, and that made him a little curious. The warrior caste seemed highly interested in these humans.

“What is it, human?” Gureen asked, his eyes focusing sharply on Ryan. “Speak quickly or return to your people.”

“I would like to bargain for more time in this facility,” began Ryan, being careful how he phrased his words. “My Marines grow tired of being penned up in our small barracks for hours on end. I would like to be able to come here daily for two to four hours. We would also like more variance in the food we eat.”

“No,” answered Gureen without hesitation. This human was obviously wasting his time. “I have only so much time to dedicate to you humans. I don’t wish to spend any additional time as I have my own duties to perform. Return to your formation and continue running. Do not speak to me again.”

“I may have something to offer that will greatly benefit you,” Ryan said, as he slowly backed away as if to obey Gureen’s command. “It would put you in a favorable light with the Kleese, perhaps even with Minor Overlord Creedanth.”

“Hold,” Gureen ordered, his eyes narrowing to slits. “There is nothing you have to offer that the Kleese would be interested in other than information. Are you prepared to reveal the military information that the Kleese are seeking?”

“No, we have already done that,” Ryan answered as he stopped backing up. “I have something far more valuable.”

“Explain.” Gureen was becoming intrigued.

If he could learn something of value from this human then perhaps he could use that information to increase his value to Minor Overlord Creedanth. There were a number of Nabians, such as Queex, who had found favor with the Minor Overlord and were allowed special privileges.

“I can show you how our battlesuits operate,” Ryan said in a low voice as if he didn’t want anyone to over hear what he was saying. “The most powerful battlesuit the Kleese have is a Type Three; we have developed a Type Four. The Kleese would be highly interested in learning how some of that technology works.”

Gureen was silent as he contemplated the human’s words. The Kleese would indeed be interested in such information. However, he strongly suspected that in order for this human to explain how the battlesuit worked, he would have to have access to it. The humans’ equipment was in a storage compartment far from this section. He didn’t know if it was plausible to do as the human was suggesting. It would also carry a high level of risk.

“Return to your people,” Gureen ordered. “I will think about your offer.”

Ryan nodded and, turning around, he jogged over to the platoon and rejoined the formation.

“How did it go?” asked Casey, looking over at Ryan expectantly. She had been watching Ryan speak to the Kleese, feeling a nervous apprehension. She was relieved that he had come back unharmed.

“He took the bait,” Ryan said with a slight nod. “Now we’ll just have to wait and see what he does with it.” Ryan hoped he had revealed enough to make the Nabian curious. Now they would just have to wait and see if Gureen responded.

-

The platoon returned back to their barracks without Gureen giving any indication of being interested in Ryan’s offer. Even later, when their afternoon food carts were brought in, there was no word from Gureen.

“Perhaps he’s not interested,” Casey said, as she sat down next to Ryan with her bowl of soup.

Looking down at her bowl, she wondered just what they were eating. The soup had several types of unidentified vegetables in it and was very thick. She suspected it was best if she didn’t know what it was made out of. At least it seemed nourishing, and no one was suffering from eating it.

“He wants a better offer,” Lauren suggested. She was standing in front of Ryan’s bunk holding her bowl. “He seems like a crafty individual. Don’t be surprised if he waits a few days before saying anything. You might be prepared to make him a better deal.”

Ryan nodded, agreeing with Lauren’s assessment of the situation.

“What else can you offer Gureen?” asked Casey worriedly. “You don’t dare give him any sensitive military intel.”

“I don’t know,” answered Ryan as he thought over Lauren’s suggestion. “I need to think of what else might be of interest to him.”

-

Deep in the heart of the Kleese Empire Supreme Overlord Xatul was once more in front of the Council of Overlords bearing grievous news. “It has been confirmed. The humans and their Alliance have attacked and seized two more of our trading stations.”

“What!” bellowed Syndat, rising up on his six legs to his full height. “Which ones?” He leaned forward in deep concern.

“The stations in Sectors Nine and Twelve,” answered Xatul, knowing this would greatly upset Syndat as the one in Sector Nine was controlled by his family.

“What’s Military Overlord Harmock doing about this?” demanded Syndat, feeling anger over how this would affect his family’s power. “Has he sent sufficient forces to retrieve our property?” He was angry enough to even challenge the Zaltule that served on the council.

“Our Military Overlord is on his way back here to the home system,” answered Darthu nervously.

He didn’t like the sudden menacing feeling coming from the council. Worriedly he turned his multifaceted eyes toward the conscripts in Type Two battlesuits spaced around the room. There were also four Kleese of Xatul’s kin in Type Three battlesuits, all equipped with the deadly Energy Lances. He knew if he spoke the wrong words, his life as well as the lives of the other Zaltule Overlords, who were on the council, could be measured in mere seconds.

“He has captured a number of the humans and is bringing them back for questioning.” Darthu shifted his gaze back to Xatul. “He plans on questioning them about their military capabilities in order to come up with a sound strategy to defeat the humans and their Alliance. We are in the process of finishing up the last work on the new fleets of Zaltule battlecruisers, which he will use to accomplish this.”

“And how soon will this new technology be given to us?” asked Raluth in a cold and menacing voice. He was getting tired of Darthu continuously delaying passing on the advanced technology gleaned from the conquered nonaligned worlds.

“Yes,” added Martule, joining in on the conversation. His eyes had a cold and deadly glint. “When will the rest of us receive the technology?”

“Soon,” replied Darthu. “Blueprints are already being drawn up to be distributed to the council.”

“How soon before they’re ready?” demanded Bixutl, suspecting no one on the council other than the Zaltule would ever see these supposed blueprints.

“A few more weeks,” Darthu answered. “The designs are very complicated and we will be furnishing working models of all the new technology to make it easier to duplicate.”

Xatul said nothing. He knew they wouldn’t see the designs before Harmock returned. The Supreme Overlord strongly suspected that upon the Military Overlord’s return, he would attempt to seize control of the council. Xatul had already spoken to Bixutl and Syndat. The three of them had come up with a plan that should neutralize the Zaltule; however, it was highly risky and could endanger the entire empire. But to do nothing would allow the Zaltule and their new Queens to become the dominant caste. That could not be allowed to happen.

“We shall wait on Military Overlord Harmock,” spoke Aktuub as he thought over Darthu’s words. “However, be warned. Once Harmock returns, we will expect the blueprints and plans to be turned over to the council immediately. We will also expect an immediate military response to return the captured trading stations.”

“The blueprints will be ready,” promised Darthu, feeling relieved he had won the reprieve he was hoping for.

Darthu allowed his multifaceted eyes to roam over the council; he felt little pity knowing most of these Kleese Overlords would soon be dead. Well-qualified Zaltule had long since been chosen to take their places. All they were waiting for was the word from Harmock and they would move against the council. Already the newly hatched Queens had been moved to several secure locations just in case of treachery from the council.

“I am certain when our Military Overlord returns and finishes his questioning of the humans he will launch a punitive attack to seize back the two trading stations. I can assure you they will not be allowed to remain in the humans’ hands.”

Xatul looked over at Bixutl, seeing the knowing look in his eyes. The Supreme Overlord felt anger at what the Zaltule were doing to the empire. Two more trading stations seized by the humans, Harmock returning to the home system with his captives seemingly ignoring the growing human and Alliance threat, and the constant refusal by Darthu to turn over any of the new technology. They had seven weeks at most to finish their preparations. If all went as planned, Harmock would be in for a harsh surprise when he arrived back in the home system.

-

Ryan was in the storage room, which contained the Marines’ equipment. Two conscripts in Type Two battlesuits had appeared and demanded he accompany them. They’d traveled a considerable distance before finally arriving at a large metal hatch guarded by two additional conscripts in battlesuits.

Once inside, Ryan was relieved to see that nearly all the equipment at the space complex on Diadem had been brought on board. Even two of their hover tanks were parked in one corner.

“Here is your equipment,” Gureen said in his stilted voice. “What is there about your equipment that makes you believe it will be of interest to the Kleese, particularly Minor Overlord Creedanth? Be warned that if I feel you’re not telling the truth I will arrange for you to meet Minor Overlord Creedanth, and you will suffer his wrath at your deception.”

“It’s far more advanced than anything else the Kleese use,” replied Ryan, as his eyes frantically swept over the equipment looking for a command suit. The storage compartment was packed. There were well over two hundred battlesuits against the walls. Their weapons were stacked in large crates upon the floor.

Gureen noticed Ryan’s longing glance at the crates of weapons. “The weapons are useless to you without a battlesuit to handle them. If you make any effort to touch anything without my permission, the conscripts with me will kill you immediately. Is that clear?”

“Yes,” answered Ryan, stepping back from the nearest crate so as not to give the Nabian any ideas.

“What is it about your suits that makes them so unique?”

Ryan turned around and showed Gureen the small titanium disk on the back of his neck about the size of a dime. “Our Type Four suits contain a neural interphase that lets us control the suits directly from our brains.” Ryan noticed the slight greenish tint to Gureen’s skin seemed to fade some at that announcement.

“A neural interphase,” repeated Gureen, feeling intrigued. This did sound like something the Kleese might be interested in. Now he needed to decide how best to play this to increase his value to Minor Overlord Creedanth. If he was careful, he might come away with some greatly expanded privileges. “I will consider what you have said. You will now be returned to your quarters until I summon you again.”

As Ryan turned to leave, his eyes lit up with excitement. On the near wall was a Type Four command suit. He couldn’t tell if it was his or not, but if he could get to it and put it on, it could be a game changer. However, now was not the time. There was no doubt in his mind that any attempt to even touch the suit would result in his immediate death.

-

The two conscripts who had brought Ryan to the cargo compartment escorted him back to the barracks. Once inside, he saw everyone’s attention quickly shift to him.

“Well?” asked Casey, getting up off her bunk and coming over to stand in front of Ryan. “Did they take you to our suits?”

“They did,” Ryan confirmed. “I even saw one of the Type Four command suits.”

“Then we know where they are,” Lauren said, her eyes widening with hope. “Can we get to them?”

“Maybe,” Ryan answered. “The storage compartment our equipment is in is a considerable distance from these barracks.”

“We have a plan to overpower the Nabians who bring our food and the two conscripts that accompany them,” Alexander was quick to point out.

“It’ll be risky,” Ryan said, looking around at the group of Marines. “If we fail, more than likely the Kleese will activate all the collars we’re wearing. We’ll all be dead.”

Casey reached up and touched the slim metal collar around her neck. “Better dead than what awaits us in the Kleese home system.”

“She’s right,” Lauren added with the others nodding their heads in agreement. “I would rather go out fighting than allow the Kleese to question us further or experiment on us.”

“Then it’s a go,” Ryan said in an even voice. “We’ll wait a few days and see if Gureen summons me again. I would like to become a little more familiar with the corridors we’ll need to pass through to get to our equipment. I also want to have a better feel for where everything is in the storage compartment. When we do this, we’ll have to move fast. If the Kleese or the Nabians get even an inkling of what we’re up to, it will all be over.”

“If we get to our suits, we’ll need to find where the other platoons are being held,” Casey said, as she thought about the logistics of what they were going to attempt. “I don’t think the twenty of us in this room will be able to take over the ship without help from the others.”

“That will be our first priority after we’ve put on our battlesuits and have our weapons,” Ryan answered. “We’ll have to find the others and take them to where the suits are located.”

“It’s going to have to be done fast,” Lauren said, folding her arms across her chest. “As soon as the Nabians or the Kleese realize we’ve escaped and gained access to our battlesuits, they’ll send their conscripts after us.”

“I wonder how many conscripts are on this exploration ship?” asked Alexander worriedly. “There must be hundreds.”

“That’s why we’ll have to move quickly,” Casey responded. “We have to secure the cargo compartment where our equipment is stored, find more of our Marines, and bring them back before we can even think about taking the ship.”

Ryan didn’t mention there was also the possibility of the Kleese activating the explosive collars once they realized some of the humans were free.

-

Later Ryan was sitting on his bunk with Casey next to him. Both were thinking about what was ahead of them.

“What’s going to happen?” Casey asked. She was thankful for all of her military training. As a sergeant, she had a clearly defined sense of duty and knew what was expected of her. However, all that had changed when she fell in love with Ryan.

“I don’t know,” answered Ryan.

He looked over at Casey, gazing into here hazel eyes wishing they were back home on Vesta. Once his mother had come to accept Casey as a woman, their relationship had quickly grown. There had been a number of enjoyable evenings with the two of them at his parent’s home eating a home cooked meal prepared by his mother. His mom was a fabulous cook and Ryan often wondered how his dad managed to keep the weight off. Ryan knew Casey had been thrilled when his mom had offered to teach her how to cook. Casey had confessed to Ryan she’d had a difficult time just boiling water. As a clone and being in the military, she had never felt the need to learn to cook. He reached over and took her hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. He’d long since quit worrying about what the others in the platoon might think about their relationship though he suspected as close as they’d all grown it didn’t really matter anymore.

“I wish this was over,” Casey said with a heavy sigh. She leaned over until their shoulders were touching. “The not knowing whether we’re going to get out of this is driving me crazy. I know most of the others feel the same way.”

“A few more days or a week at the most,” Ryan answered.

The feel of Casey’s shoulder against his was like an electric shock. He longed to take her in his arms and kiss her passionately, but in their current situation, he didn’t feel it was right. While no one would probably object, it wouldn’t be good for discipline in the ranks.

Casey nodded. Ryan made her feel human and when she was with him; it was easy to forget she was a clone though it had never seemed to matter to Ryan. “It’s getting late,” she said, releasing Ryan’s hand and standing up. “I’m going to take a shower and hit the rack.”

Ryan watched Casey stop by a small locker and remove some clothes. At least the Nabians had furnished them with additional uniforms and clothing articles. He watched as Casey went through the door, which led to the barrack’s restroom facilities. Ryan had initiated a schedule so the women and men could shower separately. In the close situation they were in, he didn’t want any incidents caused by someone becoming too tempted at seeing a naked body. He saw Lauren look at him and grin, and then she too got up and went in to take a shower.

Casey had removed her clothes and was standing beneath the showerhead, letting the warm relaxing water flow over her body. She ran her hands slowly over herself, rubbing soap everywhere. Looking down, she was pleased with her female assets. Her breasts were about average size for a woman of her build and her stomach was flat due to the stringent exercises she went through every day as part of the military.

“You should have Ryan come in and take a shower with you,” suggested Lauren with a playful laugh as she stepped under the showerhead next to Casey. “Alexander and I will guard the door so you’re not interrupted.”

Casey blushed and turned her head toward Lauren. “I bet the two of you would,” she said with a laugh.

“Seriously, Casey,” Lauren said in a more somber tone of voice. “You and Ryan might want to consider it, there’s no guarantee we’re going to survive this.”

“What about you and Alexander?” countered Casey. “I see how he looks at you.”

“He looks at all the women in the platoon like that,” replied Lauren, shaking her head.

“I’ve seen how he looks at you,” continued Casey, grinning. “Especially anytime you bend over.”

Now it was Lauren’s turn to blush. “Alexander’s a good man,” she admitted. “When I first met him I had my doubts, but he’s proven himself in combat and as a friend. Don’t you dare tell him I said that!”

“I won’t,” Casey promised as she began to wash her hair. Her hair had started to grow out, as they had nothing to cut it with. All the women and even the men were beginning to look a little bit shaggy. Casey had never allowed her hair to grow out before. She wondered if Ryan would like her with long hair.

Lauren watched Casey as the sergeant finished her shower and began to dry off. Casey was a knockout as far as looks were concerned. Her breasts were young and perky, her stomach was flat with muscles visible, and she had the type of legs men would just die for. It had taken a lot of work on Lauren’s part to get Casey to embrace her femininity. Once she had, she’d watched the young female clone blossom into a beautiful human woman. She really wished Casey would take her advice about bringing Ryan into the shower with her. The young woman needed to experience what being intimate with Ryan was like. Lauren greatly feared that if their planned attempt to acquire a command battlesuit failed, Casey would never know that wonderful experience.

Chapter Twelve

Colonel Wade Nelson was in the Command Center of the troop assault ship Defender gazing at the large viewscreen on the front wall. They were in the system of Lanolth. Lanolth was very similar to what Earth had been, with large oceans, white ice caps on the poles, and a warm to hot equatorial zone. It was also heavily populated with a population of nearly five billion. Lanolth was the fourth planet out from the system’s sun with two small moons orbiting it. Both of the rocky moons had large habitats sprawling across their surfaces where another two hundred million Lanolthians lived and worked. There were twelve planets in the system and numerous mining and scientific posts existed on most of them. Every one of their major cities sat inside a ring of ion cannons. It was the most advanced former nonaligned world in the Alliance. Wade could see several large oceans and wide swaths of green around the equator where tropical jungles existed. It saddened him to know that because of the Kleese, Earth would never look like this again.

“We’ve accomplished wonders with the Alliance,” spoke Hyram Blake, who had only recently arrived on the Defender. He’d been down on Lanolth finalizing the admittance of several new nonaligned worlds.

“How many worlds do we have signed up now?”

Hyram turned toward Wade with a huge smile. Colonel Nelson had been instrumental in helping to form the Alliance. “Twenty-nine, and soon Diadem will make the thirtieth. Lanolthian President Raytol feels confident that once Diadem formerly joins the Alliance more nonaligned worlds in Sector Twelve will follow suit.”

“The only problem is most of the nonaligned worlds in that sector are already under Kleese control,” Wade responded.

“President Raytol has told me they have confirmed the Zaltule have temporarily pulled back their battlecruisers. He’s proposing launching a number of attacks to free six high tech star systems. The systems still have their orbital shipyards and infrastructure intact. The Lanolthians are already in the process of constructing more ion cannons to be used to protect those worlds once they have been freed.”

“Systems without space fleets,” answered Wade, cocking his eyebrow in doubt. “Can we afford to allocate resources to systems that can’t defend themselves?”

“I asked him the same thing,” replied Hyram, nodding his head. “I was surprised to learn that Lanolth, Nalton, Pradel, and Tureen have greatly increased their warship production. Other members of the Alliance are following suit. Each system will be sending a squadron to help defend these new systems.”

“But it takes time to build a thousand-meter battlecruiser.” Wade wasn’t convinced ships could be built fast enough to cover the growing military needs of the Alliance. He didn’t want to see their forces spread too thin in case the Kleese retaliated for the loss of their two trade stations.

“I’m not so sure,” Hyram said, looking toward the viewscreen and gazing at Lanolth. “Their ship construction technology is amazing, particularly since they have begun to share technology with each other. Only last week a Delton battlecruiser arrived with a large group of Kivean and Delton scientists and technicians on board, who are going to be working on Lanolth for a while. They want to study the technologies from the different Alliance worlds to see which ones could best help in the war with the Kleese.”

“Kiveans?” Wade said, feeling curious. “I don’t suppose that Marken is one of those that came?”

Hyram laughed and nodded. “Not only Marken but his life mate Harnett also. I wasn’t supposed to mention that as I think he wanted to surprise you.”

Wade allowed himself to smile. It would be good to see the two Kiveans. Perhaps they would have an idea of what to do next as far as Ryan and the missing Marines were concerned. Wade was at a loss as to what their next move needed to be.

“Now to our other problem,” Hyram said, gesturing toward another viewscreen showing the trading station from Sector Twelve. The one from Sector Nine was due to arrive in another three days. Both would be repaired at Lanolth before the one from Sector Twelve was sent on to the Sol System. “What are we going to do with the crews of the two captured stations?”

“Nearly two hundred and twelve thousand,” Wade answered with a deep sigh. “Five different races. I spoke to some of them while on board the station. They’re fearful of returning to their home worlds since the Kleese still control them. The Nabians, of course, will be of no use. They’re totally dedicated to the Kleese and are certain the Kleese will arrive at any moment to take back the stations.”

“A difficult situation.” Hyram’s face creased in a deep frown. “I don’t believe it would be wise to attempt to send them back to their worlds. I spoke to Marken before I came up to the Defender and he feels any who return could cause the Kleese to extract horrible reprisals upon those worlds. Perhaps even dropping a few antimatter weapons.”

“It’s normal Kleese doctrine,” Wade answered with a grim look. “Look at what they did to Kivea. It’s a dead world now with only one surviving Kivean colony and that’s back in our solar system.”

“I still have nightmares at night about the Kleese and what they did to Earth,” admitted Hyram, shifting his gaze back to Wade. “The Kleese are such a cold and horrible race of beings.”

“They’re not humanoid,” Wade pointed out. “They believe themselves to be a superior life form and all others should serve them. They look at most humanoid races as nothing more than semi-intelligent vermin.”

“Are you certain that all the Kleese on the station have been eliminated?”

“All but one,” Wade said with a vicious smile. “Minor Overlord Betel surrendered to us. I’ve met with him several times and he’s been very forth coming with the information he has been willing to share.”

“That’s strange for a Kleese,” Hyram said frowning. “The two we have back in the solar system have refused to cooperate.”

“Betel and I have an agreement,” Wade said with a glint in his eyes. “I told him if I ever catch him lying to me or refusing to give me the information I want, I’ll toss him out the nearest airlock.”

Hyram’s eyes widened at this admission. “I don’t know if I approve of those kinds of threats, even if Betel is a Kleese. We shouldn’t descend to their level.”

Wade looked down at the deck and then raised his eyes to meet Hiram’s. “They took my brother and several hundred other Marines. I have to know where they’re going and what the Zaltule’s plans are for the captives. I meant it when I said I would toss him out the nearest airlock and he knows that.”

“Did he tell you where they’re going?”

“Yes,” Wade answered, his eyes narrowing in anger. “They’re being taken to the Kleese home world for in depth interrogation and study. We already knew that from the letter my brother left me as well as information we found in the station’s primary computer system. Betel feels the majority of them will be taken to Zaltule labs to be experimented on.”

Hyram’s face turned white at hearing Wade’s words. “What can we do?”

“Betel was good enough to provide us with Military Overlord Harmock’s course as well as his plans to return with an updated warfleet. I have already transmitted the information to General Mitchell.”

“Colonel,” interrupted Commander Greer. “I just received a message from Admiral Adamson asking that you and I report to the Constellation.”

“Perhaps we’ll find out now,” Wade said. He had been expecting a response from General Mitchell; perhaps this was it. “Would you like to accompany us to this meeting as it could very well involve the Alliance as well?”

Hyram nodded. As a diplomat, he was pretty well secure from being involved in any area where there might be fighting. It was also good for him to know what was going on so as not to be surprised in meetings with other diplomats, many from worlds he knew very little about.

-

The three took a shuttle over to the Constellation and were soon on their way to the briefing room where Wade had been told to come. As they walked through the battlecruiser’s corridors, they discussed the conscripts on the two trading stations.

“I’m going to suggest they be placed on several of the Alliance worlds temporarily,” Hyram said as they stepped into the corridor that held the briefing room.

“What if we kept some of them as crew?” suggested Wade. “They already know how to operate the station, so training would be minimal.”

Hyram looked surprised at the suggestion. “That just might work,” he said after a moment, his eyes visibly brightening. “I don’t think all of them would be willing to serve, but I suspect the vast majority would. We would definitely have to remove the Nabians.”

“We would add our own people as well,” Wade said. “Our own military, of course, as well as the command crews.”

“Yes,” Hyram responded as he thought over what would be needed. “We would want humans in all the controlling positions on the station that’s being taken to the solar system, but we have to be careful to remember these humanoids are used to obeying the Kleese without question. There will be a long learning curve until we can get them to change their way of thinking. I will make that suggestion to General Mitchell as well as President Raytol.”

The three entered the open hatch to the briefing room and Wade froze in his tracks. There sitting at the table were Admiral Adamson, Major Jeffries, Major Winfrey, Marken, Harnett, Kalarn, Larnell, and Beth!

-

“Welcome, Colonel Nelson,” spoke Admiral Adamson with a broad smile as he stood.

Beth got out of her chair, walked over to a still stunned Wade, and gave him a quick hug. “Surprised?”

“To say the least,” Wade stammered, as Beth led him to the empty seat next to where she had been sitting. He was beginning to feel apprehensive since Beth was wearing a Marine officer’s uniform with the rank of colonel. Beth had resigned her commission to take on the security job at the cloning facility. Something was definitely going on here.

“Commander Greer, if you and Hyram will take a couple of seats we’ll get this meeting underway.”

The two went and sat down in the two seats the admiral was pointing toward.

“What’s going on?” Wade asked, his eyes shifting to the admiral.

“A rescue mission,” Adamson replied. “After speaking with Admiral Mitchell and reviewing what we discovered on the trading station in Sector Twelve, as well as the information Minor Overlord Betel gave us, we have a pretty good idea of the course of War Overlord Harmock’s fleet.”

“We’re going to follow it?” asked Wade, scarcely believing what he was hearing.

“In a manner of speaking.” Adamson walked over to the wall and activated a large viewscreen. On it appeared a map of the Kleese Empire with a number of red and green dots. The red dots far outnumbered the few green. “As you can see, the Kleese control a tremendous number of worlds. However,” he pressed a control and the map zoomed in on a small section of space very close to the Kleese home world. “We may have a plan that will allow us to attempt to rescue our abducted Marines.”

“The Delton mission,” guessed Wade, seeing what systems were being displayed on the viewscreen. He’d heard rumors about it since his return to Lanolth. One of the small icons was flashing yellow and from its location, he knew this was indeed the Delton home system.

“Yes,” answered Adamson, nodding his head. “Admiral Rivers and Fourth Fleet will be here in another two weeks, at which point the Defender will be joining them to continue on to the Delton home world.”

“Will any other Seventh Fleet units be joining Fourth Fleet?” asked Wade. He knew any trip that deep into Kleese space was going to be extremely hazardous. He was also relieved that he might get the chance to rescue Ryan and the other Marines after all.

“Both the Union and the Britannica are being reassigned,” Adamson informed Wade, feeling deep regret at losing the two heavy battlecruisers. “Fourth Fleet is being augmented as well with some Alliance vessels.”

“Which Alliance members?” asked Hyram. This was the first he’d heard any mention of a rescue operation, let alone a mission going to the Delton home world. President Raytol hadn’t mentioned anything about Lanolthian warships being assigned to another human fleet.

“The Tureen are adding ten battlecruisers with their 40-megaton antimatter missiles, Pradel twelve, Nalton fifteen, and Lanolth fifteen. There will also be forty Delton battlecruisers and a number of passenger vessels of Delton and Kivean design accompanying Fourth Fleet.”

“That’s a large fleet,” admitted Wade, wondering how Beth was involved in all of this. “But the Kleese have larger fleets, particularly that close to their home system.”

“The Deltons will be conducting rescue operations on their home planet in an attempt to remove as many key people as possible. Special emphasis is being placed on scientists, technicians, doctors, and other specialists. Once the rescue operation is nearing its end, the fleet will begin hitting Kleese targets in the area, as well as their home system.”

“Their home system!” gasped Commander Greer in disbelief.

“Yes,” Adamson replied. “From the information gathered from the computers on the trading stations as well as from Minor Overlord Betel, we know the Zaltule have several major shipyards in their home system. We want to destroy them.”

“The Tureen and their forty-megaton missiles,” commented Wade in understanding. “If we can get in close enough, those heavy missiles should be able to cause considerable damage.”

“That’s the plan,” Admiral Adamson replied. “Don’t forget about our own multi-warhead antimatter missiles. That’s one reason we want the Union and Britannica; with their heavier shields and armor they should be able to get in close enough to deliver a devastating attack against the shipyards.”

Wade shifted his gaze to Beth. “Why is my wife wearing a colonel’s uniform?”

Adamson didn’t reply he merely shifted his eyes indicating Beth should explain her presence.

“Both the Defender and the Argyle will be going on this mission,” Beth responded, turning toward Wade and reaching out taking his hand. “I didn’t want us to be separated for what could be up to a year. You will be in charge of the Defender and any attempt to rescue our abducted Marines. I will be in charge of the Argyle along with Major Jeffries. I asked General Mitchell to reinstate my commission. He increased my rank to colonel and gave me command of the Argyle.”

Wade didn’t know what to say. He was pleased he wouldn’t be away from Beth but deeply concerned for her safety. It seemed as if the heaviest fighting always occurred where she was.

“Nicole promised she would keep me safe,” added Beth, seeing the concern in Wade’s eyes. “She wanted me to tell you that.”

“Wade nodded; if Beth was going on this mission then he was going to assign Sergeant Dawson to her command as well. He knew the sergeant would keep a careful, protective watch over her.

“Major Winfrey will be assigned to the Defender,” Admiral Adamson added. “If our Marines are in the Kleese home system, hopefully we’ll be able to find them and bring them home.”

The admiral then turned toward Hyram Blake. “I have a job for you, Hyram. A refugee fleet from the planet Belen has shown up in the Waltarn system requesting aid.”

Hyram’s eyes widened. “How large a fleet?”

“Over one hundred vessels including a number of warships,” Adamson answered. “I want you to go and speak with their leader, an Admiral Trest. Belen is in Sector twelve and we may want to make it one of the worlds we attempt to free.”

“I will speak to President Raytol over this matter and proceed with an Alliance delegation to the Waltarn system immediately.”

“Thanks, Hyram,” Admiral Adamson replied. It wasn’t every day refugees showed up with a powerful warfleet as Admiral Trest had.

-

Later, Wade returned to the Defender. Beth, Major Winfrey, and all the Kiveans had come along also.

“This will be a dangerous mission,” Marken said from where he was walking at Wade’s side. “If the Kleese find out we’re removing more Deltons from their home planet they could easily do to Delton what they did to Kivea.”

“That would be horrible,” Harnett said, her narrow eyes showing her fear. It still haunted her knowing how the Kleese had destroyed her home world.

“They won’t find out,” promised Beth.

“How was your mission to Sector Nine?” asked Wade, glancing over at Major Winfrey.

“Not as bad as what you had to face,” Winfrey replied. “There were only a couple of Zaltule ships and half a dozen exploration vessels. The latter jumped out and all we had to do was eliminate the Zaltule battlecruisers and several hundred assault ships.”

“The Kleese sent the assault ships and their crews to their deaths,” proclaimed Kalarn, clearly agitated at the senseless loss of life. “They throw away the lives of their conscripts as if they’re meaningless.”

“To the Kleese, they are,” Beth responded. She had learned that very plainly during her time as a Kleese captive and conscript.

“What happened to the Kleese on the station?” Wade asked.

“They all died,” Winfrey replied evenly. “None offered to surrender. Then, as we were escorting the station back here, I was ordered to come ahead and prepare for the Delton mission.”

“Why did you come, Harnett?”

Harnett was silent for a long moment as she tried to decide how best to answer Wade. “The abducted Marines may need my medical expertise,” she answered. “If the Kleese have them for any length of time, it’s hard telling what type of shape they’ll be in. The medical ship Micene will be accompanying Fourth Fleet. She is a Kivean designed ship with the most modern medical equipment there is. We have a mixture of Kivean and human doctors on board. The ship arrived here in the Lanolthian system earlier today.”

Harnett and I will be staying aboard the Micene,” added Marken. “The ship is not armed but has a powerful, protective energy shield as well as an extra layer of armor on her hull.”

“The living quarters are also much more comfortable than on a regular military vessel,” added Kalarn with a grin.

This caused Wade to smile. The Kiveans enjoyed their comfort. Their colorful cities inside their asteroid were proof of that.

“Even if we find our missing Marines, it’s going to be highly difficult to affect a rescue,” Wade said as they reached the small briefing room he’d been heading toward. He wanted to spend some time speaking to this group about the planned operation and how best to allocate their Marine resources.

“Nearly impossible,” Beth answered with worry in her voice. “But we don’t leave our people behind; we have to make the attempt. Even if Ryan wasn’t involved, we would still have to go.”

“Yes, you’re right. We’re risking a lot on this mission and that greatly concerns me.”

“But if we succeed, we’ll do something to the Kleese that’s never been done before,” Winfrey said. “From what we’ve been able to tell from what’s in the Kleese computers on the trading stations, their home system has never been attacked.”

“It will change their thinking about the war,” Marken commented. “It will force them to defend their home system and other valuable assets. It might even create a schism between the Zaltule and the other Kleese.”

“How’s that?” asked Wade, his eyes widening at Marken’s comment.

“We don’t believe the Zaltule and the regular Kleese are getting along well,” Marken explained. “There seems to be a rift developing between the two castes. The regular Zaltule prefer the gradual expansion of their empire by allowing an occasional highly developed world to become nonaligned under the protection of their neutrality agreements. They would then trade with that world to the benefit of both. The Zaltule believe in all out war to bring every world into their empire.”

Wade nodded in understanding. It helped to explain why Minor Overlord Betel was being so cooperative, particularly when asked questions about the Zaltule. Wade opened the hatch to the briefing room and stepped inside; he had a feeling this was going to be a long meeting.

-

Harnett and Marken were in their spacious quarters on board the medical ship Micene. The ship had been named after the remaining surviving city on their planet from which the last group of Kivean survivors had been taken away. Immediately after that, the Kleese had arrived and sterilized the planet with antimatter warheads. To the best of their knowledge, there were no other surviving members of their race other than those living in the two cities inside the Kivean asteroid in the Sol System.

Harnett sat down next to her life mate on the comfortable couch. As she did she could felt the memory foam conform to her shape. “I fear for what Beth and Wade might have to go through.”

“You mean if they manage to locate and free their abducted Marines?”

“Yes,” she replied, taking Marken’s hand. “You and I both have seen what the Kleese do upon occasion when they experiment on other races.”

Marken nodded. He knew Harnett had been forced to do some terrible things while under control of the Kleese. They all had. The Kleese had also ensured he and Harnett could never have children.

“Even if we rescue Ryan, he may never be the same.”

“We have to hope he manages to escape,” Marken said.

“With the Kleese collars of obedience around his neck?” spoke Harnett, her eyes growing sad. “It can’t be done.” She had worn one of those collars for most of her life.

Marken didn’t reply. He had taken extra precautions when he heard Ryan was going to be involved in the special program, which involved the Type Four battlesuits. Being in the program meant, at some point in time, Ryan would be facing Kleese, perhaps even Zaltule, in hand-to-hand combat. If Ryan could find some way to get to his command suit, there was a possibility he could free himself of the collar. Marken had kept this information to himself so as not to give false hope to Wade and Beth.

“I’ll prepare us something to eat,” Harnett said, standing up. Cooking helped to take her mind off worrisome subjects and what might be happening to Ryan was one of them.

Marken nodded. Harnett was a fabulous cook and their living quarters had a small kitchenette. After a moment, he also stood up to follow her into the kitchen. He always enjoyed helping his life mate whenever possible. She was the light of his life and nothing would ever change that. He also knew she was greatly concerned about Ryan.

-

Wade and Beth had settled down in his quarters to talk.

“You shouldn’t have come,” Wade said after a moment.

“What!” Beth uttered, her eyes growing wide. “I couldn’t let you face this danger alone.”

“I thought you were tired of all of this,” replied Wade, recalling the conversation they’d had about her retirement from the military.

“This is family,” Beth answered, stubbornly. “I spoke to my mother and your parents about my decision and they fully support me in this.”

Wade knew there was no point in arguing. Beth was here and she was not going to be talked into going back home.

“How are my parents coping?”

“As well as can be expected,” answered Beth. “They’re very worried about Ryan and that’s all they talk about.”

“I just hope we find him,” Wade said pensively.

“We will,” Beth promised, taking Wade’s hand. “We have the entire gang with us. Major Jeffries, Jamie, Nicole, and even Sergeant Dawson. The Kleese will never know what hit them!”

Wade put his arm around Beth and pulled her closer until her head was resting on this shoulder. He just hoped she was right. For now, he was going to enjoy his wife being next to him. Tomorrow they could worry more about the mission.

Chapter Thirteen

Ryan was nervously pacing back and forth in the small barracks room. It had been well over a week since Gureen had taken him to the cargo compartment, which contained their equipment. Since then, the Nabian had kept his distance and Ryan had been hesitant about a second approach. However, his platoon had been allowed to go to the training facility on a daily basis and spend two to three hours working out. If that was an indication, it seemed to suggest Gureen was considering Ryan’s offer.

“He wants something else,” Casey said as Ryan paused next to her bunk where she was sitting talking to Lauren. “He’s allowing this time to pass so you’ll sweeten the deal.”

“He’s already allowing us more recreation time,” Lauren said, her eyes focusing on Ryan. “He’s up to something, I’m certain of it. He could show up at any time and request your presence.”

It almost seemed as if Lauren was prophetic as the hatch to their barracks swung open and Gureen stepped inside. He was accompanied by two conscripts in the normal Type Two battlesuits. “Come with me,” he ordered, gesturing toward Ryan. His eyes swept disdainfully over the others.

“Be careful,” cautioned Casey in a low voice. “We need to stick to our plan.”

Ryan nodded and followed Gureen through the hatch and out into the corridor.

“I have decided to allow you to demonstrate your equipment,” Gureen said in his stilted voice. “I have arranged for some of it to be moved to a nearby compartment where you can explain this neural interphase and how it improves the operation of the suits.”

“You will be pleased with what I have to show you,” replied Ryan, trying to sound respectful. “I’m sure Minor Overlord Creedanth will reward you for the information.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” responded Gureen sharply. His clean-shaven head and elfin like ears made it difficult to read his emotions.

Gureen led the way and soon they turned into another corridor. After going down it for a short distance, he stopped in front of another hatch. The Nabian turned around and gazed into Ryan’s eyes.

“Your equipment is in here,” he spoke. “If I detect any signs of treachery or mistruth in what you’re telling me, you will die immediately.”

Gureen gestured toward the two conscripts. For the first time, Ryan realized they were carrying RG rifles instead of stunners.

“At a signal from me, you will die. Those RG rifles contain armor piercing rounds and even if you are inside one of your battlesuits you will not be protected.”

“I will speak only the truth,” Ryan replied evenly. “I only want better treatment for my people.”

“Very well,” Gureen answered, as he stepped forward and opened the hatch.

Once inside the small storage compartment Ryan quickly looked to see what equipment the Nabian had brought. He was disappointed to see only three battlesuits. One was a Type Three, one a Type Four, and the last a Type Four command suit. Ryan’s breathing quickened and his heart began racing when he recognized the command suit. He wasn’t certain, but from the dents and scratches on it, the suit looked like it was his.

“These will serve just fine for my demonstration,” Ryan said, trying to sound casual and not excited.

“One more thing,” Gureen said, his eyes focusing sharply on Ryan. “I will allow you to demonstrate and explain the functioning of these three suits, but if you want your food upgraded I will require some military information as well.”

Ryan froze at hearing those words. “What type of information?”

“The exact number of worlds in your human led Alliance and of warships currently protecting your home system.”

“What if I don’t know that information?”

“Then our deal is off as far as the food is considered, and I might even consider reducing the time you’re allowed in the training facility.”

“I’ll consider your demands,” Ryan responded. “I’ll need to speak to several of my people who might know that information.” The only thing Ryan could do was try to delay.

“That will be allowed,” Gureen replied. If he could get this information from the humans, his increased value to Minor Overlord Creedanth was assured. “Now, show me what’s so special about these suits.”

Ryan carefully stepped over to the regular Type Four battlesuit; he was hesitant about going to the command suit first in case Gureen was suspicious of his motives. Casually looking around the room, he noticed there were no weapons included with the suits though he wondered about the suit explosives.

Under Gureen and the two conscripts’ watchful eyes, Ryan carefully donned the Type Four suit and activated it. For the next half hour, he demonstrated its capabilities going through a range of motions and explaining specific enhanced functions the neural interphase allowed. He noticed with some disappointment that the explosive rounds in the twin tubes on the back, as well as the small nuke rounds, were missing. It was obvious Gureen wasn’t taking any chances.

“That’s enough,” Gureen said. He had a small recording device that he was using to record everything the human said and did. “These new suits are indeed interesting. Remove the suit and you shall return to your barracks. I will review what you have shown me today to see if it is worthy of bringing to the attention of Minor Overlord Creedanth.”

“The other two suits also have some modifications you might be interested in,” Ryan mentioned casually.

“We will look into those tomorrow or the next day,” Gureen answered. “For now I have what I need.”

Ryan nodded and activated the program to cause the battlesuit to open up, allowing him to step out. He’d been careful not to demonstrate the strength the suit possessed. There had been no doubt in Ryan’s mind that if he had wanted to take out the two conscripts and Gureen, he could have.

The two conscripts escorted Ryan back to the barracks. Gureen remained in the storage compartment looking over the battlesuit. Ryan was disappointed he’d not been given the opportunity to don the command suit. Once back inside he could see the excited looks on his Marines.

“Well?” Alexander asked. “Did Gureen take you back to our battlesuits?”

“Better than that,” replied Ryan, allowing a smile to cover his face. “They moved three of the suits to a storage compartment near here. We could reach them in only a few minutes if we could get out of this room.”

“What type of suits?” asked Casey, feeling excited at the prospect of possibly being able to take some action against their captors. She was also relieved Ryan had returned to them unharmed.

“One Type Three, a regular Type Four, and” he paused, looking intently at his Marines, “a Type Four command suit.”

“All within reach,” uttered Lauren, thinking of the possibilities.

“This is our chance,” Private Rios said, his eyes lighting up. “If we jump the two conscripts and the Nabians who bring the food carts, we can have those suits in minutes.”

“But there are no weapons in the storage compartment,” Ryan added. “We’re still going to have to reach the larger storage compartment where the rest of our suits and our weapons are stored and that’s some distance from here.”

“How much time do we have?” Casey asked. “Is there a chance Gureen will move the three suits?”

“Not for a few days,” Ryan responded. He looked slowly over the now standing group of Marines. “I think we need to move quickly. I would suggest first thing in the morning when they bring our meal.”

The Marines slowly nodded their heads. Everyone was tired of being cooped up in these barracks. Even though they were being allowed out each day to spend time in the training facility, they were still spending most of their time in the cramped room.

Ryan let out a deep breath and then spoke again. “Keep in mind. If this doesn’t work, we’ll all probably end up dead.”

“Better dead than some Kleese science experiment,” muttered Alexander. He didn’t care for the idea of allowing the Kleese to experiment on his body.

“I don’t want to be carved up like a chicken,” added Private Rios. Chicken was the most common meat served at Luna City. He was well aware of how the chickens were killed in the large chicken farms beneath the city.

“Let’s do it,” Casey said with the others nodding their heads in agreement. “There’s no point in delaying this.”

“Then it’s a go,” Ryan said. He looked at Casey, Alexander, and Lauren. “You three come with me and we’ll make our final plans. Then we all need to get some rest as I don’t know when we’ll be able to again.”

As the others went back to their bunks, Ryan couldn’t help but wonder how many of them, if any, would still be alive this time tomorrow. Even if they succeeded in reaching their suits and removing the Kleese collars, they still had to take over the exploration ship, and Ryan wasn’t sure that was even feasible.

-

It was early the next morning, and at any time the Nabians would be bringing them their morning meal. Lauren and Alexander were standing close to the hatch along with several other Marines. If the Nabians followed their normal procedure, the two conscripts in battlesuits would enter first, taking up positions on each side of the hatch. Then the two Nabians would enter with the food carts. Fortunately, there were two bunks close to the hatch and that was where Lauren and Alexander were. The Nabians wouldn’t think there was anything suspicious about the Marines being there.

Their plan was quite simple. Two Marines would tackle each of the two battlesuits in an attempt to knock them off their feet, while Lauren and Alexander would attempt to open the small recess compartments on the top of the suits, just below the neck, and press the switch, which would automatically open the suits. Even if they couldn’t knock the two conscripts down, it was hoped the suddenness of their attack would surprise them enough to give Lauren and Alexander time to flip the switches.

“I’m nervous,” said Casey as she stood next to Ryan’s bunk watching the hatch. “A lot depends on us getting control of these two battlesuits.”

“It’ll work,” Ryan replied. It had to or they were all dead. He reached out and took Casey’s hand squeezing it.

He had a lot he would like to say to Casey, but here in this crowded room was not the place. Looking over at her he could feel how warm she made him feel and how important she had come to be. If they got out of this, he was going to make her well aware of just how important she was to him in no uncertain terms.

“Do you think we’ll ever see Vesta again?” To Casey, Vesta was home. It was where the cloning facility was and where she had attended the academy. It was also where she had met Ryan.

“I hope so,” Ryan answered.

-

A few minutes later, the hatch began to open and two conscripts in Type Two battle suits carrying stunners stepped inside the room. They were quickly followed by two Nabians wheeling in the food carts. Ryan nodded imperceptibly toward Lauren and Alexander. He clenched his hands into fists and he could feel his heart hammering in his chest.

“Now!” shouted Lauren, as she leaped onto the back of the battlesuit nearest her as several Marines slammed into the legs of the conscript, nearly toppling him. Lauren felt herself nearly thrown off as she struggled to find the small recess compartment that held the suit opening switch. With anxiety, she saw one of the Marines helping her suddenly fly across the room to strike the wall with a sickening thud. Several other Marines then launched themselves toward the conscript in a desperate attempt to bring down the battlesuit. Then her hands found the cover and, flipping it open, she reached her hand inside and flipped the switch. Instantly the battlesuit toppled over backward as Lauren flung herself to the floor, rolling and coming to a stop against one of the bunks. Struggling to her feet, she saw with relief Alexander had his battlesuit down and several battered Marines were pulling a shocked Nabian out.

“Corporal Parker, get inside that battlesuit and use the stun rifle to knock out all four of these Nabians.”

“Stop, you will be killed for this!” warned one of the Nabians, looking around in fear at the humans.

“Gureen will activate your collars,” threatened another.

“Screw you,” spoke up Private Rios, his face covered in anger. It was all he could do not to strike out at these four Nabians.

Alexander quickly lay down inside the battlesuit as several other Marines rolled it over and flipped the switch back up and closed the small compartment on the upper part of the suit. Instantly the suit sealed itself and Alexander stood up. Without a moment’s hesitation, he raised the stun rifle and fired it at all four of the now speechless Nabians, knocking them unconsciousness.

“We did it,” spoke Casey with relief in her voice. She looked over at Ryan seeing the relief on his face.

“Yes, but not without cost,” Lauren said. She was leaning over the Marine that had been hurled against the wall. “Private Velum’s dead. I think his neck’s broken.”

Ryan stared at Velum’s motionless body for a moment. He hadn’t expected to lose anyone at this juncture. “Private Rios, get in the other battlesuit. Corporal Adams, you and Private Swen will be accompanying us. We’re going to the compartment where the other two Type Four suits and the single Type Three are. Casey, you’ll remain here with the rest of the platoon and make sure these four Nabians stay knocked out. Don’t let anyone in through the hatch unless it’s one of us.”

Casey nodded. “Private’s Hatterson and Matheson, move Private Velum’s body to the shower facility.” Then she turned back to Ryan. “We’ll be waiting.”

“Let’s go,” ordered Ryan, as he stepped into the corridor and looked both ways. Once everyone was outside, he shut the hatch but didn’t lock it. “Follow me. Corporal Parker and Private Rios, remember, you’re supposed to look like guards escorting us.”

“Got it,” Alexander said in a low voice.

“Good, now follow me.”

Ryan led them down the corridor and then turned into the side corridor, which led to the small storage room that was their destination. They passed two Nabians on the way and neither paid much attention as Ryan and his small group were being escorted by two battlesuits.

Reaching the compartment, Ryan opened the hatch and they all quickly stepped through. He shut the hatch behind them and then looked around. The suits were still there. “Corporal Adams, take the Type Four. Private Swen, take the Type Three. Taking a deep breath, Ryan hurried over to his command suit and, turning around, stepped inside. Instantly the suit closed up around him and he felt a slight prickly feeling as the neural interphase connected. With relief, Ryan confirmed it was indeed his command suit.

Closing his eyes, Ryan concentrated and accessed the suit’s central computer, searching for anything that might allow him to deactivate the Kleese collars. With surprise, he suddenly heard a voice he recognized. It was Marken’s.

“Hello, Ryan,” the Kivean said in a calm and soothing voice. “If you have activated this program then you have been captured by the Kleese and are wearing one of their obedience collars. I am truly sorry for what you must be going through. Harnett and I greatly feared for your safety when we heard you were joining the special program. Shortly before you deployed, I made sure your suit, as well as Major Stevens’ contains a program, which should deactivate the Kleese collars. That program is currently running and is analyzing the collar around your neck as well as searching for the correct combination to unlock it. In the HUD screen, you should see a blinking red icon. When it turns green, the collar will be safe to remove.”

Marken’s voice stopped and Ryan’s gaze shifted to his HUD screen. Sure enough, there was what looked like a rapidly blinking red cursor.

“Lieutenant, what now?” asked Lauren as she stepped up close to him in her recently donned battlesuit.

“Just a moment,” he replied as he watched the icon. The icon continued to blink and Ryan was afraid it wasn’t going to find the combination Marken had spoken of. Then suddenly it turned green and he heard a low clicking noise.

“The collar is now safe to remove,” Marken’s disembodied voice spoke. “You will now see a new blinking green icon on the far left side of your HUD screen. Just concentrate and the suit will emit the necessary commands to disable any Kleese collar within ten meters. Be cautious as ten meters is the maximum range the small transmitter, which is sending the deactivation commands, can function. It will only take a few seconds for the collars to be deactivated.”

Ryan instantly activated the program with a quick command through his neural implant. The other Marines in the room were all easily within the ten-meter range. He then activated the suit’s opening program and stepped back out. Reaching up, he removed the Kleese collar and looked down at it.

“You should now be able to remove your collars,” Ryan said, looking at the others and letting his collar drop to the floor.

“Was that the click I heard?” Lauren asked as she opened up her suit and stepped out. Hesitantly she reached up and removed her collar. She gazed at it as if not willing to believe she was finally free of it.

“Yes,” Ryan answered as everyone else removed theirs. “Marken put a program in the suit’s main CPU which can disable the collars.”

“Guess I get to keep my head after all,” muttered Alexander as he dropped his to the floor.

“Guess that means we will still have to hear you grumble,” commented Lauren. Even though she wouldn’t admit it, she really didn’t mind Alexander’s antics.

“Now, let’s suit back up and return to the barracks. We’ll deactivate the rest of the collars and then head to where our equipment is stored. Once everyone is in a Type Four battlesuit and we have our weapons, we’ll see if we can find the rest of our Marines.”

Ryan quickly led them back to their barracks. They passed half a dozen Nabians on the way. Several paused, gazing questionably at the different battlesuits, but upon seeing the two Type Two suits continued on their way. Opening the hatch to the barracks, Ryan quickly stepped inside while the others waited out in the corridor.

“Everyone come close,” ordered Ryan, searching and finding Casey sitting expectantly on her bunk. In moments, everyone was around Ryan and he was running the program to deactivate the collars. Over a dozen clicks indicated the collars had been successfully disarmed. “Leave the collars on for now. We don’t want and Nabians we pass in the corridors to grow suspicious. We’ll act the same as we do when we’re going to the training facility. We’ll go in double file and follow Corporal Parker and Private Rios. Hopefully any Nabians we pass will not realize anything is out of the ordinary.”

A few minutes later and they were moving rapidly down the corridor. Ryan was directly behind Alexander and Private Rios, telling them which corridors to take. They were nearly at the cargo compartment holding all of their equipment when they passed a group of Nabians heading in the opposite direction. One paused and then stopped, gazing at the Type Three and Type Four suits in confusion. He suddenly stepped over to the wall and accessed a comm unit.

“Quickly,” Ryan ordered as they entered the corridor holding the storage compartment. They instantly began sprinting toward the hatch, which Ryan quickly flung open, gesturing for everyone to enter. “Get inside; find your suits and weapons. We’re committed now. We’re either going to be free or were going to die fighting!”

-

A few minutes later Ryan was holding a fully loaded RG rifle in his armored hands and his Energy Lance was belted to his waist. All of his other Marines were suited up and fully armed. They had even found the suit explosive rounds for the tubes on the back of the suits in one of the crates. However, all of the small nuke charges were missing.

“No nukes,” Corporal Adams reported. Lauren had gone through the entire storage compartment searching all the crates for the powerful nuclear explosives.

“We won’t need them,” Ryan said. “We need to find Major Stevens and our other Marines.”

“We need to split up,” Casey said as she checked her Energy Lance, feeling satisfied she clipped it to her waist and picked up an RG rifle.

“I want two Marines with those stun rifles,” Ryan ordered. “They’re quiet and will take down a Type Two suit without blasting holes through it. Casey, I want you to take Corporal Parker and eight other Marines. I’ll take Corporal Adams and the remaining seven. We’ll start our search from the main corridor that runs in front of the barracks room where we were being held. If you find anyone, contact me over the suit comms and I’ll meet you back here to disable their collars.”

“Got it,” Casey replied as she quickly picked out the Marines, which were going with her.

The two groups split up with a Marine in a Type Four battlesuit in each group carrying a stun rifle. The two Marines had orders to stun anyone they came across. There was no doubt that by now the Nabian, who had been talking on the comm system, had passed on concerns there might be something going on with the human captives.

-

Ryan’s group had gone down two long corridors without finding any of their Marines. In the process, they had stunned eight Nabians and one battlesuit. Ryan was just about to order them to retrace their steps and try a different corridor when they came to a locked hatch. Opening it, he stepped inside to see a shocked group of Marines.

“Lieutenant Nelson?” asked Lieutenant Autumn Guthrie, rising up from her bunk in confusion. She hadn’t been expecting to see a Type Four suit step through the hatch.

“Yes, it’s me,” answered Ryan, raising his visor so Autumn could see his face.

“How?”

Ryan quickly activated the program to deactivate the collars of the Marines in the small barracks. “I tricked one of the Nabians into leading me to our suits,” he explained. “I told him I would show them how they operate and it would get him in good with the exploration ship commander.”

“Wish I would’ve thought of that,” Autumn said, as she heard a click at her neck. “What was that?”

“My command suit can deactivate the collars,” Ryan answered with a smile. He quickly moved through the room making sure it was safe for everyone to remove their collars. “Corporal Adams, escort Lieutenant Guthrie back to the compartment our equipment is stored in so her platoon can get suited up.” Ryan would feel a lot more confident once he had a second platoon in Type Four suits and armed. If he could just find a few more platoons of Marines, they might have a shot at taking the ship.

-

Casey had checked four corridors and hadn’t found any Marines. They had stunned over a dozen Nabians and two battlesuits. She watched pensively as Alexander opened a locked hatch and stepped inside. She could hear excited human voices and hastily entered the room. A full platoon of Marines were inside and, looking around, she saw a sergeant talking animatedly to Corporal Parker.

“This is one of Colonel Stratford’s platoons,” Alexander spoke over their private comm. “Let’s get them back to the cargo compartment so they can have their collars deactivated and get suited up.”

Alexander was fearful they were rapidly running out of time. At any moment, he expected to see the corridors fill full of Nabians in their Type Two battlesuits. Once that happened, the battle would be on.

“Agreed,” responded Casey. “Sergeant, if you and your people will follow us we’ll get those collars off and show you where your battlesuits and weapons are.”

“You can remove these collars?” asked the sergeant, his eyes growing wide at the thought. “How?”

“Lieutenant Nelson can with his command suit,” Casey answered. “But we need to hurry, there’s no telling how much longer we can move about the ship before the Nabians or the Kleese realize what we’re doing.”

With the freed Marines following, they quickly made their way back to the cargo compartment where Ryan was waiting. Casey had used her comm to notify him they were on their way back with a platoon of Colonel Stratford’s Marines.

“We can use you, Sergeant McElroy,” Ryan said, seeing the man’s name on his shirt. Ryan quickly used his suit to deactivate the Kleese collars and instructed McElroy’s platoon to suit up in their Type Three battlesuits. That gave him nearly sixty Marines now suited up and armed. If they could just find a few more platoons before the alarms sounded, they might have a real chance of taking the ship.

“Let’s spread out and move quickly,” Ryan ordered. “I want all the connecting corridors near the training facility we’ve been using checked. We’ll go there and then move out across the ship.”

“Ryan,” spoke Casey with an odd look on her face. She had opened her visor so she could more easily speak to him. “Why don’t you stay here with a squad of Marines and let us send anyone we find to you.”

Ryan took a deep breath and blinked. He knew that Casey’s suggestion was a good one. “All right,” he replied. “But let’s move quickly.”

-

Over the next twenty minutes three more platoons were found, two of theirs and one more of Colonel Stratford’s. Ryan was tremendously relieved when he saw both Lieutenant Felton and Major Stevens step inside the compartment.

“Corporal Adams says you can remove these damn collars,” uttered Stevens, seeing Ryan standing in the center of the room.

“Yes, sir,” Ryan answered. “Marken put a program in my suit as well as yours that can neutralize the collars. I’ve already activated it and as soon as everyone is inside this compartment, they can safely remove them.”

Mark reached up to his neck and, grasping the collar, pulled it away from his throat. He stood gazing at it for a moment before dropping it and looking round the room. He spotted his command suit and quickly hurried over to don it. Once he had it on and had found an RG rifle, he returned to where Ryan was standing.

“We still haven’t found Colonel Stratford,” Ryan reported. “Though we have found two of his platoons and freed them.”

Alarms going off and red lights flashing interrupted his report. “Crap!” Ryan uttered with unease. “I think the Nabians and the Kleese have figured out what we’re up to.”

“They’ll be setting off the collars on the rest of our people,” Mark said his eyes narrowing sharply. “We need to start moving and see if we can take this ship.”

“We only have a little less than one hundred Marines in battlesuits and armed,” Ryan reported with concern in his voice. “I’m not sure that’s enough to take the ship.”

It was going to be nearly impossible to take the exploration cruiser without the rest of their people. They would be facing hundreds of Nabians in Type Two battlesuits as well as however many Kleese were on board.

Mark nodded, as he called up the schematics on his HUD of a Kleese exploration cruiser. They needed to find more of their people as well as take over one of the flight bays as a fall back point. “Lieutenant Nelson, I want you to take your platoon and go to section twelve, flight bay six. There should be an assault ship in the bay. Get it operational and ready to depart. I’ll fight a holding action and continue to look for the rest of our people.”

“Major, we can’t exit the flight bay while the cruiser’s Fold Space Drive’s activated.”

Mark drew in a deep breath and then his eyes hardened. “Just get your people to the bay, I’ll find a way to get us out of Fold Space.”

“Yes, sir,” replied Ryan, wondering what Major Stevens had in mind.

“Let’s go,” Ryan ordered over his comm to his squad in the cargo compartment.

He then sent a comm message to the rest of his people to meet at the training facility; from there they would go to the designated flight bay and hope there was an assault ship there. Ryan was deeply concerned about the Marines who hadn’t been located and what the Kleese might do. Those Marines still had their collars on and they were not deactivated.

Chapter Fourteen

Ryan met the rest of his platoon at the hatch to the training facility. Everyone was in their Type Four battlesuits and ready for action.

“Report!” ordered Ryan, looking at Casey and the two corporals.

“We didn’t find any more of our Marines,” Casey said, sounding a little flustered. “For all we know they could be on the far side of the ship.”

“These corridors have become strangely empty of Nabians,” added Lauren, as she glanced down at her RG rifle making sure it contained a full magazine. “Even the corridors we haven’t been down are vacant.”

“They’ve pulled back,” suggested Alexander, cradling his RG rifle in his metal arms. “They know we’re loose and the alarms are sounding.”

“They’ll hit us shortly,” Ryan said. He just hoped the first thing they didn’t do was activate the explosive collars. They still had a number of platoons they hadn’t found, including Colonel Stratford.

“We have orders to proceed to one of the assault ship bays. If there’s an assault ship inside we’re to take control and prep it for flight.”

“Then we’re getting out of here?” asked Casey. She had been afraid they didn’t have the forces necessary to take the massive exploration ship.

“Yes,” Ryan answered evenly. “We’ll get the ship ready and then wait for the others to fall back to the flight bay.”

“What about the exploration cruiser being in Fold Space?” asked Lauren. “We can’t exit the bay as long as the main drive is on.”

“That’s being taken care of,” Ryan answered. He wondered just what Major Stevens had in mind to force the exploration ship to drop out of Fold Space so they could escape. “We’re going to section twelve flight bay six.” He quickly transmitted the schematics of the exploration cruiser that Major Stevens had downloaded to Ryan’s battlesuit to Casey, Lauren, and Alexander.

“Where did you get this schematic, sir?” asked Lauren as she began studying it in her HUD.

“From Major Stevens. The schematics are readily available at Centerpoint. I’m sure that’s where he got this. Corporal Parker, take the point with your squad. Consider any Nabians we come across as hostile. Corporal Adams, cover our rear.”

For several minutes, the platoon navigated the numerous corridors, which led toward section twelve. Over his comm channel, Ryan was listening to Major Stevens’ squads report in as they searched more of the ship for locked up Marines. Suddenly, firing broke out in front of them. Ryan heard Alexander swear and order his squad to take cover.

“I’ve got eight to twelve battle suits in front of us,” Alexander reported as he fired his RG rifle down the corridor toward the enemy. He grimaced as he felt several RG rounds bounce off his chest armor. “Their rounds aren’t penetrating.”

“They’re not using armor piercing rounds for fear of damaging the ship,” spoke up Lauren as she checked the corridor behind them, concerned this might be a dual pronged attack. So far, the rear area was still clear of threats.

“Take them out,” Ryan ordered. Most of the platoon had taken up positions inside of several adjoining corridors.

“Let’s go!” shouted Alexander as he fired a long burst from his rifle at a Type Two suit. If these Nabians didn’t have armor-piercing shells, the Marines had nothing to fear. The Nabian went down with a line of holes stitched across his chest and red blood pouring out.

The firing grew intense as the two groups got closer and then merged. Several of Alexander’s squad drew their Energy Lances and began striking at the Nabians in their battlesuits. A Type Two suit was not immune to the Energy Lances and every cut went through the armor. More times than naught, the lance went all the way through, either cutting the suit in two pieces or cutting off the Nabian’s head. The fighting was quite gruesome with Nabian bodies all over the deck.

“Clear!” called out Alexander as the last Nabian fell.

Looking at his HUD Ryan saw only one Marine was showing as injured in the fracas. “Private Hatterson, what’s your status?”

“Only a minor injury,” she reported. “A round went through the connecting joint at my ankle. Suit’s injecting meds and painkillers and I’m good to go.”

“Move out, Corporal Parker,” ordered Ryan, satisfied everyone was still capable of combat.

Down more corridors and past several open compartments they went, not encountering any more resistance. However, over the command channel Ryan knew this wasn’t true of Major Stevens and the Marines with him.

“Lieutenant Nelson,” Stevens’ voice strained came over the command channel. “We’ve found one more platoon of Colonel Stratford’s and that’s all we’re going to find alive.”

“Why’s that?” asked Ryan, fearing the answer.

“Lieutenant Felton just reported finding a sealed hatch and upon opening it found all the Marines inside dead. Their explosive collars had been activated.”

Suddenly Ryan knew why they’d faced so little resistance. The Kleese hadn’t realized some of the Marines had freed themselves of their collars. They probably thought by activating the collars the human threat would be eliminated.

“I’m sending Lieutenant Guthrie and Sergeant McElroy to you,” Stevens added. “Hold that bay until the rest of us can get there.”

“We will, sir,” Ryan answered. “We won’t be leaving without you.”

-

It took another ten minutes but they arrived at the bay without further resistance. They encountered only a few Nabians, who quickly scurried back away from the advancing Marines.

“I’m at the hatch,” reported Corporal Parker. “It’s shut; should I open it?”

“Yes,” answered Ryan. “Be prepared to meet resistance if the Kleese have managed to get any battlesuits into the bay.”

Alexander took a deep breath and then pressed the control to open the large metal hatch. It swung inward and the corporal and his squad charged in finding the bay empty other than the assault ship nestled there. “I want four of you up that ramp,” he ordered, pointing toward the open ramp which led into the ship. “The rest of you check the bay to make sure we’re alone.”

Ryan stepped inside and breathed a deep sigh of relief at seeing the spacecraft. “Sergeant Hunter, I want you and Corporal Adams to take a squad and make sure that ship’s secure. Then make your way to the Command Center and see if you can get it operational.”

“On our way,” Casey said. Then over their private channel, she added. “Be careful, Ryan; we’re almost out of here. I don’t want to lose you now.”

Ryan watched as Casey and Lauren, along with six other Marines, hustled to the ramp and entered the ship. “Corporal Parker, take four Marines and secure the outside corridor. Lieutenant Guthrie and Sergeant McElroy should be arriving shortly with their platoons.”

“Yes, sir,” Alexander responded as he moved back out into the corridor with four members of his squad. He was glad the others were on their way.

Ryan turned around to look at the other five Marines who had just finished checking the rest of the small flight bay. They’d found no one else hiding amongst the equipment or crates stacked next to the walls. “The rest of you get inside that assault ship and make sure there are no Nabians inside. I want every compartment searched, including the drop ships.”

The five hurried off and soon disappeared into the ship’s hatch. Ryan continued to listen to Major Stevens over the command channel. Both his platoons and Lieutenant Felton’s were involved in heavy fighting with large groups of Nabians in battlesuits.

“Still no sign of any Type Threes,” Stevens reported to Ryan. “We’re trying to push through to Engineering so we can shut down the drive.”

Ryan called up his schematic of the exploration ship. The ship was twelve thousand meters across and two thousand four hundred meters thick.

“Sir, Engineering is a hell of a long ways from this bay.”

“Once we’ve disabled the drive we’ll make to the nearest flight bay that contains an assault ship. As soon as the ship drops out of Fold Space, you’re to leave. We’ll follow shortly after.”

Ryan was silent for several long moments. He was growing deeply concerned Major Stevens and his people might not make it off the ship. A commotion at the hatch drew his attention as Sergeant McElroy and his platoon entered followed by Lieutenant Guthrie.

“Sergeant McElroy, get your platoon up that ramp and into the assault ship. Is there anyone who can help fly it?”

Several hands went up as many of the Marines in the Type Four suits in Lieutenant Guthrie’s platoon had also attended the academy at Vesta or the fleet facility on the Moon.

“Report to Sergeant Hunter in the Command Center and she’ll give you your assignments.” He quickly contacted Casey and told her more help was on the way.

Lieutenant Guthrie placed one of her squads outside the hatch with Corporal Parker and sent the rest into the assault ship. “Ryan, what’s Major Stevens up to? If he makes it to Engineering and shuts down the Fold Space Drive, I don’t see how he can make it to a flight bay.”

“I don’t either,” admitted Ryan, his eyes shifting over to Autumn. “The major’s been around for awhile. Maybe he has a trick or two up his sleeve.”

“I hope so,” responded Autumn, looking at the hatch wishing the major would come through.

-

Major Stevens drew in a sharp breath as several more of his Marines were cut down by heavy weapons fire from Nabians in battlesuits. They were now using armor piercing rounds, which were deadly if they hit critical areas. Major Stevens and Lieutenant Felton had started out with seventy-four Marines. They were down to fifty-eight and the resistance was growing heavier as they neared Engineering.

“We’re pinned down,” Lieutenant Felton reported over the command channel. He had his platoon and one of Colonel Stratford’s going toward Engineering in an adjacent corridor.

“We need to join forces,” Mark said as an explosion went off up ahead. He had given permission to start using RG explosive rounds as needed in order to reach Engineering. “There’s a junction up ahead. “We’ll move along it and take the Nabians pinning you down from the rear.”

“One more thing,” Felton added over the Comm. “Corporal Slocum found our nukes in a nearby storage compartment. I have half a dozen of them with me.”

“Don’t lose them,” Mark ordered. “We’ll be at your position shortly.”

Mark ducked as several RG rounds struck the wall near him. The corridor was full of smoke, and they were using the sensors in the suits to help find their targets.

The fighting grew more intense as they neared the junction. The Nabians were desperate now to push the Marines back as more reinforcements kept appearing. Explosive rounds were going off nearly nonstop as the Marines pushed steadily forward. The Nabians weren’t firing any back and Mark strongly suspected they didn’t have them. The Kleese obviously didn’t want their exploration cruiser damaged any more than necessary.

Mark nearly tripped over a prostate battlesuit and, looking down, recognized it was one of his Marines. Glancing at his HUD, he saw Corporal Banister’s icon blinking red.

“We’re at the junction!” yelled Sergeant Owens.

“Go to the right,” Mark ordered. “That will put us behind the Nabians who have Lieutenant Felton pinned down.

Moments later, they poured heavy weapons fire into the Nabians who were now pinned between Major Stevens and Lieutenant Felton’s Marines. In less than a minute, the opposition had been eliminated.

“What now, sir?” Felton asked as he walked up to the major.

“The Engineering deck is close,” Mark replied. “We’ll push on toward it using our explosive rounds. Right now, that’s our biggest advantage over the Nabians.”

“Let’s do it, then,” Felton said. “I suspect Lieutenant Nelson and Guthrie are anxious to get off this tub.”

“Brice,” Mark said in a lower voice on the command channel. “We may not be able to get out of this. “We’ve lost a lot of Marines getting here and we still have a ways to go.”

Brice was silent for a moment and then nodded. “At least Ryan and Autumn will get away. Now, let’s go kill some more of these damn Nabians.”

“Sergeant Owens, move out!” ordered Mark. He allowed himself to grin slightly; Lieutenant Felton reminded him a lot of a younger Lieutenant Griffith. For the first time, he was glad his best friend hadn’t accompanied them on this mission.

-

The four greatly reduced platoons of Marines continued to advance toward Engineering. RG explosives were now the prevalent ordnance being used with regular RG rounds doing the mopping up. Mark estimated he was losing one Marine for every ten Nabians they were taking down. The corridors they were going through were now blasted, smoking ruins with torn and shattered battlesuits scattered on the deck. They were stepping through blood, both human and Nabian.

“We’re at the main hatch to Engineering,” Sergeant Owens reported. “It’s sealed from the other side.”

“Blow it,” ordered Mark. He wanted to get inside and disable the Fold Space Drive before the Kleese could send in additional battlesuits.

Moments later a large explosion echoed down the corridor as a flash of light and fire breached the hatch. The Marines charged in encountering heavy weapons fire.

As Mark stepped through the hatch, he saw a large number of Nabians in battlesuits and many without. Even more importantly, he saw four Kleese standing by the main control panels watching the fighting. None were armed or in battlesuits. Two were holding the small black control boxes repeatedly pressing the controls attempting to set off the collars the humans no longer wore.

“Stop, humans!” one ordered. “If you come any nearer you will all die.”

“Not by any of you!” roared Mark as he glared in anger at all the red icons on his HUD. So many good men and women had died to reach this compartment.

Reaching down, Mark grasped his Energy Lance and activated it. A blue glow surrounded the lance and a low humming sound came from it. He moved determinedly toward the Kleese followed by a number of his Marines. He lost track of the fighting in the compartment as he swung his lance at the first Kleese, instantly decapitating it and sending a shower of blood over his battlesuit. The other Kleese were suffering the same fate as other Marines used their lances, and soon all four were dead. Their arachnid bodies lay twitching in growing pools of blood upon the deck of Engineering. Never again would they be a threat to any human or other race.

Around him, the fighting subsided and looking around he saw all the Nabians were down. Looking at his HUD, he felt a sickening feeling. Only eighteen icons were green and amber, all the rest were blinking red.

“Lieutenant Felton?” Mark called over the command channel. There was no answer. Rechecking his HUD, he saw one of the blinking red icons was the lieutenant’s. Mark took several deep breaths and slowly shook his head. The lieutenant had been a good officer and Marine.

“We’re not getting out of here, are we, sir?” asked Sergeant Owens. Owens was a career military man. His only family was a brother, who worked as an instructor at the flight school on the Moon.

“No, Sergeant,” Mark answered grimly. “We don’t have the people to fight our way to one of the flight bays. If we try to, we’ll either be killed or captured.” It surprised him that the Kleese hadn’t sent more Nabians with stunners to try to stop the Marines advance on Engineering.

“I don’t want to become a prisoner again,” uttered the sergeant, looking intently at the major.

“Neither do I,” Mark replied. “Corporal Slocum, do you still have those nukes you found?”

“Yes, sir,” Slocum replied as he limped over to where the major was. His battlesuit had a jagged hole in one leg. Two Marines behind him were carrying a small metal case between them.

A wolfish grin spread across Mark’s face. He had one more surprise for the Kleese. “Sergeant Owens, I want the Fold Space Drive taken off line and then the controls destroyed. We need to give Lieutenant Nelson time to get off this ship.”

“Yes, sir,” Owens replied as he gestured for several Marines he knew had some technical knowledge to follow him to the Fold Space controls.

-

In the Command Center of the exploration ship, Minor Overlord Creedanth gazed in growing anger at Queex and Gureen. Both had been summoned to the Command Center as soon as word of the human revolt had become known.

“How did these humans get their equipment?” demanded Creedanth, his multifaceted eyes drilling sharply into the two frightened Nabians.

“Their equipment was stored a considerable distance from them,” Queex hastily replied. He then shifted his eyes toward Gureen. “It was the humans Gureen was responsible for who started all of this. I have a confirmed report from one of my fellow Nabians Gureen moved several of the humans’ battlesuits to a compartment near them and even allowed one of them access.”

Creedanth shifted about on his six legs, making clicking noises against the metal deck of the Command Pedestal. “I had hopes you Nabians wouldn’t prove to be as inferior as many of the other races in our empire.” Creedanth reached forward and picked up one of the small black control boxes lying upon the console nearest him. Looking at Gureen, he pressed the button. A sharp explosion resonated through the Command Center as Gureen’s now headless body fell to the deck. “Let that be a lesson to all of you. If you fail to carry out your assignments, death awaits.”

“We will not fail you again,” uttered Queex, trying not to look down at Gureen and the dark red blood pouring from his body. He knew the Kleese could be quite merciless.

“No, you shall not,” Creedanth answered as he set the box back down. “Now, send enough Nabians in battlesuits to retake Engineering.” Even as he spoke, he felt the exploration ship shudder.

“We’ve dropped out of Fold Space,” the Kleese at Navigation reported. “The humans in Engineering have shut down the drive.”

“Another failure on your part,” Creedanth spoke coldly as he picked up the black control box, pressing the button once more. Another sharp explosion and a headless Queex joined Gureen upon the deck.

“Clean this mess up,” ordered Creedanth to one of the other Nabians nearby. “I want these vermin out of my Command Center.”

-

“Lieutenant Nelson, get all of your people on the assault ship and get away from the exploration cruiser,” ordered Major Stevens over the command channel.

“Sir, we can come to you and together can get back to this bay,” pleaded Ryan. He didn’t want to abandon the major.

“It’s too late, Ryan,” spoke Stevens in a calm voice. “The Nabians are bringing up reinforcements and we’re completely cut off from reaching any of the flight bays containing assault ships. There are only eighteen of us left. Even if you could reach us, I doubt if any of us would still be alive when you reached Engineering.”

Ryan was silent, unsure what to say. First Colonel Stratford and now Major Stevens; it was almost more than he could bear. He knew in the last hour a lot of Marines he’d come to know over the past year had died.

“Corporal Slocum found some of our suit nuke charges,” Stevens added. “We’re rigging them up to explode at a command from my battlesuit. We’re going to take out two of the ship’s fusion generators, as well as the Fold Space Drive. The release of all that energy should destroy this vessel. I’ve spoken to the remaining Marines with me and none of us want to be captured again. We end this here and now.”

“I understand, sir,” replied Ryan, wondering if he would have the fortitude to do what Stevens was about to do if their roles were reversed. “What are your orders?”

“You’re in command now,” Stevens said. “Get our people home and tell General Mitchell and Major Winfrey what happened to us. Our people fought bravely and I can’t think of a better bunch to go out with. Contact me again when you’re ready to exit the flight bay, and Ryan, make it quick. I think the Nabians are getting ready to rush us.”

The comm channel went silent and Ryan looked over at Lieutenant Guthrie, standing next to him. She’d been listening to the entire conversation. “Get everyone in the ship and the hatches closed up, we’re leaving.”

“We can’t just leave them!” Autumn uttered, not wanting to accept the orders from Major Stevens. “We have to try to save them!”

“We can’t,” replied Ryan, shaking his head. “Major Stevens is right. There’re too many Nabians between us and him. We would just be killed trying and that’s not what he wants.”

Autumn was quiet for a long moment and then turned around, heading toward the assault ship. “You’re right,” she admitted in a somber voice. “I just can’t believe this is happening.” She switched to the general comm channel and ordered all remaining Marines to enter the assault ship.

Ryan waited until everyone was on board and then went up the ramp and through the hatch. Autumn was waiting at the top. She raised the ramp and closed the hatch behind Ryan.

A few minutes later, Ryan was in the assault ship’s Command Center. Casey, Lauren, and four other Marines were operating different consoles. He’d taken his battlesuit off in one of the small cargo bays.

“I’ve got a few people in Engineering and other essential areas,” Casey reported. “The ship’s powered up and Corporal Adams claims she can fly it out of here.”

“I can help,” said Autumn, as she entered the Command Center. “I took two years of advanced training at flight school, and I even piloted an assault ship out of Centerpoint a couple of times.”

“Thank God,” Lauren said, standing up and gesturing for Autumn to take her place. Lauren hadn’t been absolutely certain she could fly the ship. She had done it a few times on simulators but never for real.

Autumn sat down and quickly scanned the controls. She made several adjustments and the ship suddenly seemed to vibrate slightly. A thrumming noise could be heard coming from Engineering. “I’m lowering the atmosphere in the bay to vacuum and opening the flight bay door.”

“Door is opening,” Lauren confirmed from the console she had moved to.

“Take us out,” ordered Ryan as he sat down in the command chair. It was a little large, as it had been designed for a Nabian.

“Exiting the bay,” Autumn replied as she activated the ship’s thrusters.

Ryan looked up at a viewscreen Casey had activated and watched as they slowly exited the flight bay. “Put some distance between us and the exploration ship.”

Casey looked around and then looked at Ryan in confusion. “Where’s Major Stevens?”

“He’s not coming,” answered Ryan, as he removed a small communications device from where it was clipped to his waist. “Major Stevens, we’re clear of the ship.”

“Good luck, Ryan,” Stevens replied. “If you ever see Lieutenant Griffith, tell him I wish him the best and to take care of his family.”

“I will, sir,” Ryan said softly.

-

In Engineering, Mark looked toward the main hatch. The Nabians were making their move and heavy weapons fire had broken out again. Walking over to the main control panel, he activated the comm channel, which linked Engineering with the ship’s Command Center.

“Minor Overlord Creedanth,” Mark said in an even voice. “This is the human commander who has control of your Engineering deck.”

For a few moments there was no reply, and then a cold and hard voice answered back. “Human vermin, surrender and I will spare your life.”

“I don’t think so,” Mark replied. “I have a question for you. If we’re vermin and you’re so superior, how did we manage to escape, fight our way through your ship, and take over Engineering? We also killed the four Kleese in command here.”

“You shall die,” Creedanth replied. “No inferior species is allowed to harm a Kleese.”

“As shall you,” Mark replied as he pressed the red button on the detonator he was holding in his hand. He closed his eyes and thought about Earth and how it once was.

-

On the viewscreen in the assault ship, Ryan watched as the exploration cruiser suddenly began shaking violently and then blew apart in a massive explosion. The released energy coursed through the ship vaporizing major parts of it, leaving a gaseous glowing debris cloud in its wake.

“They’re gone,” choked out Casey, as she gazed at the viewscreen with tears in her eyes. “They’re all gone.”

Ryan felt the awesome weight of command now fall upon his shoulders. He had three platoons of Marines he needed to get back home. They were thousands of light years from Alliance space and he wasn’t even sure where they were in the Kleese Empire. He knew somehow they had to find their way back and tell General Mitchell and Major Winfrey about Major Stevens’ last act. In the past, Ryan had heard people talk about heroes; he now understood what that meant.

Chapter Fifteen

Ryan and the rest of the Marines in the Command Center of the assault ship were gazing at the large viewscreen in shock. The Kleese exploration cruiser had just exploded from the nuclear charges Major Stevens set. There was nothing left but a glowing field of debris.

“We need to get away from here, Ryan,” spoke up Casey as she wiped the tears away from her eyes. “I’m sure Minor Overlord Creedanth notified the Zaltule battlecruisers what was happening. They’ll be searching for us shortly.”

‘You’re right,” Ryan said, shaking his head trying to get over the shock. “Lieutenant Guthrie, Corporal Adams, find us a nearby star we can go to. We’re in open space here and will be easy to spot.”

“Calling up the ship’s astrogation tables,” replied Lauren as her delicate hands moved swiftly over the data screen in front of her. Several minutes passed as the assault ship’s computers scanned the stellar neighborhood to determine their exact location.

“Tactical display coming online,” reported Private Jasmine Hopper, who was sitting in front of the sensor console. “No contacts as of yet.”

“That won’t last much longer,” Casey warned, looking with deep concern at Ryan. “I’m sure by now the Kleese know something’s wrong.”

“The Zaltule may not know we’ve escaped,” Ryan said, as his eyes focused worriedly on the tactical display. They needed to be gone before a Zaltule battlecruiser arrived. “We don’t know what the commander of the exploration cruiser told them.”

“It won’t matter if we’re still sitting here when they show up,” Casey said. She was deeply concerned their escape might be short lived. If a Zaltule battlecruiser arrived before they could escape into Fold Space, it would over.

The minutes continued to pass until the assault ship’s astrogation computers finally found their current location.

“We’re 6,500 light years from the solar system,” Lauren announced. “There’s a small white dwarf system six point two light years from our current position.”

“Lay in a course for it,” Ryan ordered, anxious to get underway. “Activate our subspace drive and let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Activating subspace drive,” Autumn answered as she worked the console in front of her. “Ten minutes until we can enter Fold Space.”

On the viewscreen, the glowing debris field began to grow smaller as the assault ship quickly accelerated away from it. In Engineering, the Fold Space Drive began to charge. Several Marines with a little technical experience were watching. They hoped nothing went wrong because if it did, they had no idea how to go about fixing it.

“Fold Space insertion in five minutes,” reported Autumn, as she checked the data on the twin information screens in front of her. “All systems seem to be normal.”

“Contact!” called out Private Hopper. “Range two million kilometers and closing.”

“Have they spotted us?” asked Ryan, standing up and looking intently at the tactical screen.

“I don’t believe so,” Jasmine replied. “I think they’re concentrating on the wreckage of the exploration cruiser.”

Ryan sat back down, his eyes now focused on the glaring red threat icon on the tactical display. It was plain to see the vessel was heading directly toward the site of the debris field.

“It’s a Zaltule battlecruiser,” Jasmine informed Ryan as the information came over her sensor panel. She felt her heart skip a beat upon seeing confirmation of the arrival of their enemy.

“One minute to Fold Space insertion,” added Autumn.

“Will they be able to detect us when we enter Fold Space?” Ryan asked, looking over at Casey.

“Maybe,” replied Casey, trying to remember everything she’d learned in her brief stint at flight school. “There will be a large energy signature when the drive is activated. There’s a good chance it’ll show up on their sensors if they’re watching.”

“They’ll know someone got off the ship,” Ryan said grimly. “Corporal Adams, once we exit Fold Space in the white dwarf system, we need to find a new destination quickly. I want to put some distance between us and that Zaltule battlecruiser.”

“I’m working on it,” Lauren replied as she called up additional astrogation charts of the surrounding space.

“Fold Space Drive activation,” Lieutenant Guthrie commented as the ship rapidly accelerated past the speed of light.

-

Behind them, more Zaltule battlecruisers began dropping out of Fold Space around the debris field of the destroyed exploration ship.

“What happened?” demanded Military Overlord Harmock as the Warrior’s Fire scanned the scattering debris. This was the ship that had held his human captives. His cold eyes gazed sharply at the primary viewscreen showing the shattered remains of the ship. It was obvious no one could have survived.

“It’s definitely the exploration cruiser,” confirmed Jalridd as his sensors scanned the debris.

“How was it destroyed?”

“Unknown,” answered Gareth, sensing the growing anger of the Military Overlord.

“The humans are gone,” Harmock said in a cold and unyielding voice. “How could this have happened?”

“Minor Overlord Creedanth reported a revolt by the humans,” Dalock answered from where he was standing in front of the main Communications panel. “It was the last message we received from the ship.”

“The humans had their obedience collars on,” Harmock stated, feeling growing anger and wondering what had happened on that ship. “How could Creedanth not bring them back under control?” Harmock knew Creedanth owed his allegiance to Supreme Overlord Xatul.

“They must have found a way to neutralize the collars,” Gareth suggested.

Harmock was silent for a long moment. Once more, the humans had demonstrated their ingenuity. He was growing more certain with every passing day that the humans were not an inferior species.

“There was an energy spike just as we emerged from Fold Space,” Jalridd added. “The type that’s associated with an assault ship activating its drive.”

“They escaped,” Harmock said in a hard voice. “The humans managed to destroy the exploration cruiser and then escaped in an assault ship.”

“I’m not so certain of that,” responded Gareth doubtfully. “That would indicate they have the same resourcefulness as a Kleese.”

“We must not underestimate these humans,” warned Harmock, his multifaceted eyes focusing on his second in command. “I want all of our ships to rendezvous here and we’ll begin a search for the missing assault ship. It must be found!”

“I’ll pass on the order,” Gareth replied. He knew the message would have to be sent quickly as ships in Fold Space could not be contacted unless they were close by. It might already be too late to contact many of the ships in the fleet.

Harmock’s eyes shifted back to the large viewscreen focused on the glowing debris field. This final act of the humans only intensified his need to take firm control of the Council of Overlords. If these humans succeeded in bringing even more nonaligned worlds into their Alliance, they could become a threat far greater than the Strell had ever been.

-

Ryan breathed a sigh of relief as the assault ship dropped out of Fold Space in the white dwarf system. Lieutenant Guthrie was doing an excellent job piloting the vessel. They were fortunate to have gotten away as the Marines on the assault ship had little previous experience operating a spacecraft.

“There’s a blue giant twelve light years away,” Lauren informed Ryan. “Its radiation would serve to mask our presence.”

“Let’s stay away from really large stars for now,” Ryan responded. He didn’t want to put any more stress on the assault ship and its makeshift crew than he needed to.

“There’s a brown dwarf fourteen light years distant,” Lauren amended.

“Make that our next target,” Ryan ordered.

They needed to put some distance between them and where the exploration cruiser had been destroyed. Once that was done, it would be wise for them to see what type of experience the Marines on the ship had as far as flight training went. There were a lot of stations in the Command Center, which were vacant.

-

Admiral Rivers gazed at the tactical screen as the fleet dropped out of Fold Space for routine maintenance. They were two weeks out from Lanolth and deep into Kleese space. Two hundred and twenty-one friendly green icons floated on the screen.

“All ships present and no unknown contacts,” reported Commander Greerman. He was a former carrier commander and was hoping to make admiral some day. He stepped away from the console, leaving Lieutenant Mandy Hertz to keep an eye on the sensors.

“This is a planned six-hour maintenance stop,” Rivers said, leaning back in his command chair. They were in a small uninhabited K2 star system.

“I still wish we had some space fighters,” spoke Greerman as he stepped over beside the admiral. “It would be nice to put a CSP out around the fleet.”

“A Combat Space Patrol,” grinned Rivers. He liked the idea but knew any type of space fighter was far in the future.

“Sometimes I miss the old carrier days; at least then the only enemy we had to worry about were human.”

Rivers nodded. The galaxy wasn’t nearly as empty of life as many on Earth had once believed. There were thousands of intelligent races spread across the stars. Unfortunately, many of those races were under Kleese control.

“The assault ships seem to be holding up well,” Greerman added as he gazed down at some data flowing across one of the screens on the command console.

“They’re two hundred meters across,” Rivers answered. “We’ve done everything we can to ensure they can make this trip. Extra supplies, spare parts, and experienced crews.”

“Admiral, Colonel Nelson is requesting we send a few of the assault ships to scout several nearby systems,” reported Ensign Entz at Communications. “There are two Kleese controlled worlds nearby and he’s asking if the ships can drop in just to listen to their communications and take sensor scans.”

“This is the third time he’s requested that,” Colonel Greerman commented with a concerned frown. “We’ve accommodated him for the last two, but what if the Kleese detect our ships?”

“It’s a risk,” Rivers admitted. “But we’re gaining some valuable intelligence, and those Kleese controlled worlds won’t be suspicious of assault ships dropping into their systems. The Kleese use them all the time to keep watch on their conquered worlds. Go ahead and send two to each one. Inform the commanders we’ll wait for their return.”

“Yes, sir,” Greerman replied as he headed off toward Communications.

-

Wade was in the Command Center of the Defender waiting for Admiral Rivers’ response. So far, the admiral had been very accommodating to Wade’s requests.

“Admiral Rivers is dispatching four assault ships to monitor communications in the two inhabited systems,” Ensign Eve Snider reported.

Wade nodded at the Communications officer and then turned his attention back to Commander Greer.

“What are we hoping to accomplish from this?” the commander asked.

“Marken wants us to monitor as many systems as possible as we go deeper into Kleese space,” replied Wade, folding his arms across his chest. “He believes a rift is growing between the regular Kleese and the Zaltule.”

“For control of their empire?”

“Precisely,” Wade answered. “Marken believes there’s a major disagreement over the war with the nonaligned worlds.”

“So we’re monitoring communications and using sensor scans to search for Kleese exploration ships and Zaltule battlecruisers in each system.”

“Marken wants to know,” Wade replied. “We’re going to be passing close to the trading station for Sector Six in the next week and Marken wants observations of that also.”

“A trading station!” echoed Captain Alicia Damon, the executive officer. “Won’t that be dangerous?”

“Possibly,” conceded Wade. “Particularly after we recently took two of them. I would expect security to be very high.”

“So what’s the plan?” asked Commander Greer.

“We’ll drop several assault ships far away from the station,” Wade explained. “They’ll take some quick scans and then jump back out. We don’t want to do anything that might tip the Kleese off to the fact we have a fleet this deep in their space.”

Captain Damon nodded. “I realize the information we’re gathering is important, but I hate taking all of these risks.”

-

The two assault ships dropped out of Fold Space in the outer region of the Dagon system. The system had seven planets, the second one in the liquid water zone and inhabited.

“Beginning scans,” the sensor operator reported as she manipulated the controls on her console.

“Contact!” she said almost immediately. “We have a Zaltule battlecruiser at twenty million kilometers.”

“Crap,” muttered the ship’s captain, his face becoming covered in a worried frown. “Continue scans and keep me informed if that battlecruiser moves in our direction. Helm, be prepared to jump back into Fold Space at a moment’s notice.”

For twenty minutes, the two assault ships held their positions, gleaning all the information they could from the system. The captain kept a nervous watch on the tactical screen, keeping his eyes focused on the large red threat icon.

“Any movement?” he asked the sensor operator.

“No, they’re just sitting there.”

“Captain, I’m getting a message from the Zaltule battlecruiser asking to identify ourselves and to report why we haven’t gone on in toward Dagon.”

“Send a standard reply that we’re calibrating our systems and are preparing to move inward.” The captain hoped that would satisfy the Zaltule for the short term.

“The battlecruiser is communicating with the planet,” the Communications operator said as she listened to the additional activity from the Zaltule ship. “I think they’re trying to check up on us.”

“Time to leave,” the captain said. It was obvious the commander of the battlecruiser hadn’t bought their story. “Send a message to the Harden that we’re bugging out.”

“Message sent.”

“Sir, the battlecruiser is beginning to move,” the sensor operator reported nervously. “They’re heading toward us.”

“We’re out of here,” the captain said. “Helm, all ahead full and take us into Fold Space.

The two assault ships rapidly accelerated and then activated their Fold Space Drives as they quickly exceeded the speed of light.

“I didn’t care for that at all,” the captain said, relieved they’d left the system. “That was too close for comfort.”

The others in the Command Center nodded their heads in agreement. The two assault ships wouldn’t have lasted long in combat against a Zaltule battlecruiser.

-

The Zaltule commander watched as the two assault ships vanished from the battlecruiser’s sensors as they jumped into Fold Space.

“Should we report this?” asked the Zaltule, standing in front of Communications.

“No,” replied the commander. “I’m sure it was some conscripts off course. These inferior races can’t even navigate an assault ship. They should all be eliminated.”

“If our Military Overlord gains control over the Council of Overlords, then perhaps that shall come to pass.”

“It would be a great day for our empire,” replied the commander, shifting about on his six legs on the Command Pedestal. “Set course for the next world on our patrol; we’ve wasted enough of our time in this vermin infested system.”

-

Wade was on a teleconference call with Marken and Beth. He was reporting to them the results of the latest observations of the two Kleese controlled systems.

“A single Zaltule battlecruiser,” Marken said thoughtfully.

“There were also no assault ships in orbit above either of the two planets,” Wade added.

“Strange,” Marken said. His eyes looked down as he entered the information on a small handheld computer pad. “Normally the Kleese would have at least one assault ship in the system to monitor the inhabited world and to ensure it was producing whatever products the Kleese had demanded the world furnish for their empire.”

“Do you think this is the split we’ve been hoping for between the two Kleese castes?”

“Possibly,” Marken replied. “We need more observations, especially of the Kleese trading station in Sector Six.”

“I will pass on the request to Admiral Rivers,” Wade responded.

“We’re taking a lot of risks,” Beth said worriedly. “What if the Kleese figure out where these assault ships are coming from? They could begin searching for our fleet.”

“It’s a low possibility,” Marken replied. “The Kleese will not be expecting us to be this deep in their empire, especially after taking two of their trading stations. They will suppose we are preparing for them to attempt to take the stations back.”

“What if they do make the attempt while we’re gone?” Beth asked.

She was deeply worried there would be a major attack while they were on this mission. Her mother and Wade’s parents were still at Vesta though the asteroid was the heaviest defended colony in the system. She still worried about them, especially considering how long they might be gone.

“They won’t,” Marken assured her. “Their Supreme Military Overlord is on his way back to their home system with his human captives. “He’s the one who will lead the attack. Once we reach Delton, we can send a few ships to the Kleese home system to watch for developments.”

“The Kleese home system,” repeated Beth, pursing her lips. “I still can’t believe we’re contemplating attacking it.”

“It’s a calculated risk,” Wade responded. “Once we do, the Kleese will be searching for us with every vessel they have. We’ll probably have to make a run back to the Alliance with a large Kleese fleet nipping at our heels.”

Marken nodded. He well understood Beth’s nervousness. However, when he and his fellow Kiveans had freed the humans, this was one of the things they’d hoped for, a race that could take the war to the Kleese. The attack upon their home system would be vindication for what the Kiveans had risked and sacrificed in setting the humans free.

-

Ryan let out a deep breath of frustration. They’d just narrowly missed coming into combat range of a Zaltule battlecruiser.

“Suggestions?” he asked, looking around at the shaken Marines in the Command Center.

Most of the stations were now staffed as a number of Marines had been identified who could help with the operation of the ship. Ryan knew it normally took a crew of fifty to operate a human assault ship. He was trying to operate this one with twenty. The rest of the Marines didn’t have enough flight or technical experience to be of much help other than to watch consoles and report when anything looked odd to them, which was quite often.

“The Kleese are obviously searching for us,” Lieutenant Guthrie said with a deep sigh. “That’s the third Zaltule battlecruiser we’ve come across in the last four days.”

“They know we’re trying to get home and are putting ships between us and our route back to the Alliance,” Casey said. She was now sitting at the ship’s Communications console. Casey was beginning to grow deeply concerned that it was only a matter of time before they exited Fold Space within weapons range of a Zaltule warship.

“We need to fool them,” muttered Corporal Parker, who was trying to learn how to operate the tactical console.

“What do you mean?” asked Wade, shifting his eyes over to Alexander. “How do we fool them?”

“What if we go deeper into their space?” Alexander suggested. “They wouldn’t be expecting that.”

“It’s an idea,” Autumn said, nodding her head slightly. “We’re going to have to stop for supplies sometime no matter what we do. There’s not enough food on board to get us back to the Alliance.”

“Deeper into Kleese space,” Casey said, her eyes widening at the thought. “Won’t that be dangerous?”

“Probably not,” Wade said as he thought about Alexander’s suggestion. “The Zaltule won’t be expecting that. If we go far enough in toward the center of their empire, we should be relatively safe. We can find a world to set down on and wait until the Zaltule have given up searching for us. Then we can set a course for home.”

“What if this assault ship breaks down?” asked Lauren worriedly. “We don’t have the technical expertise to make major repairs.”

“We find a nonaligned world and see if we can find some help,” Autumn suggested. “There are some even this deep in the Kleese Empire.”

“Unfortunately all of those nonaligned worlds are now under Kleese control,” Ryan said. “If we land on one we’ll have to be very careful who we contact.”

“I think it’s our only choice,” Casey said after a moment, not caring for the options they had available. She didn’t like the fact that going deeper into the Kleese Empire was putting more distance between them and the Alliance. “We’re more likely to find help on one of them than anywhere else.”

“Lieutenant Adams, plot us a course farther in toward the center of the Kleese Empire,” Ryan ordered. “Let’s see if we can lose our pursuers.”

Lauren turned back toward her console and begin calling up more astrogation charts.

Ryan glanced over at Casey, seeing the concerned look upon her face. Going deeper into Kleese controlled space was a calculated risk. If it succeeded, they might just be able to lose the Zaltule. If it failed, they would be very close to the Kleese home world where the Zaltule had been taking them in the first place.

Chapter Sixteen

Ryan looked closely at the list of supplies they were beginning to run out of. They’d spent several weeks heading deeper into Kleese space and had quickly lost their pursuers. The Zaltule hadn’t considered the possibility of the assault ship going deeper into their space instead of fleeing back toward the safety of the Alliance. Ryan was also growing concerned as there were a number of systems on the ship, which weren’t functioning properly any longer. The assault ship did have a number of backup systems so they were in no real danger, but it was becoming rapidly evident that without some technical assistance they would never make it back to the Alliance.

“We have enough food for another week,” Casey announced. She was standing next to Ryan, and they were both examining a computer screen with a long detailed list of ship stores. “A lot of the food that’s on board isn’t suitable for humans.”

“What would happen if we ate it?”

Casey shook her head at Ryan with a distasteful look on her face. “Nausea, diarrhea, possibly even food poisoning.”

“Crap,” muttered Corporal Parker. He knew they were getting low, but not that low.

“We have to find a place to land to replenish our supplies as well as someone who can modify and repair this assault ship,” Lieutenant Guthrie added. Autumn was busy giving Lauren some additional training on how to operate the ship’s flight controls.

“The question is where?” Ryan said, folding his arms across his chest and gazing over at Autumn. The ship needed some serious work done to it so it would be more comfortable for humans. The assault ship had been equipped to be operated by Nabians, who were an average of seven feet tall.

“Corporal Adams and I were looking over the astrogation charts earlier and there are half a dozen former nonaligned worlds within easy reach. I would suggest we pick one and see what kind of help we can find.”

“There will be a Kleese presence on all of those worlds,” Ryan quickly pointed out. “Not only that, how can we get anyone to help us? We’ll have to offer them something.”

“The Kleese explosive collars,” Autumn answered simply. “If we offer to remove them, we might find some people willing to assist us.”

“It might work,” Casey said, looking at Ryan. “It’s the only real thing we have to offer. We’ve got to have food, and I’m tired of sitting in chairs that make me feel like a child.”

“If my command suit can remove them,” Ryan said in an uncertain voice. “I don’t know if it can analyze a collar’s release code from a distance.”

“It’s worth a try,” Lauren said. “We have to do something. At least right now we can pick our destination; if this ship breaks down or we run out of consumables we might not have a choice.”

“What nonaligned worlds are close to us?”

“Tranton, Lexcoll, Delton, Canus, Martell, and Flaxen,” Lauren answered.

“Delton,” replied Ryan, his eyes growing thoughtful. “We’re familiar with the Deltons and know quite a bit about them.” He had met several Deltons during his last leave on Vesta.

“We’ll really stand out on Delton,” Autumn commented with a concerned frown. “They’re a very short race and we’ll look oddly out of place on their planet. We’ll be spotted immediately if we go near their cities. The planet Tranton has a humanoid race that’s very similar to us.”

“But we know a lot about the Deltons,” answered Ryan, reaching his right hand up to rub his forehead. “If we could locate some of Fleet Commander Achlyn’s family, they might be willing to help us.”

“That’s a long shot,” Autumn said doubtfully. “We’ll have to land some distance from any major city and use the ship’s systems to monitor their communications in the hope of someone mentioning them. We have no idea where they live on the planet.”

“We can use the drop ships to move about the planet,” Corporal Parker suggested. “They’re a lot smaller than the assault ship and won’t be so easy to detect. We could land late at night and go in under the cover of darkness.”

“Delton is a highly advanced world,” Autumn said not caring for this idea. It sounded like too big of a risk. “They’ll detect us as soon as we drop out of Fold Space. If we try to land anywhere on the planet, they’re bound to track us to our landing site. The same goes for a drop ship.”

“I say we take the risk,” Casey said. “At least with the Deltons we know what we’re getting into.”

“I agree,” Lauren said, agreeing with Casey. “At least we know the Deltons; we don’t know anything about the people on Tranton.”

Autumn didn’t reply, she merely glanced at Ryan waiting for his decision.

“Set course for Delton,” Ryan ordered. “We’ll drop into the outer regions of the system and take some scans before going to the planet. If we deem it’s not safe, we can always jump back into Fold Space and try Tranton.”

This seemed to satisfy Autumn as she nodded her head slowly in agreement. “I’ll need a course for both of them,” she said, looking expectantly at Lauren. “If there are Kleese ships in the Delton system we may need to jump back into Fold Space immediately.”

“I can do that,” Lauren said. “Just give me a few minutes.” She went back over to the navigation computer and began calling up the astrogation charts for this area of space. It wasn’t long before she found what she was searching for and had the coordinates loaded into Autumn’s flight control console.

“Ready to enter Fold Space,” Autumn reported as her fingers adjusted the controls. “All primary or secondary systems operational.”

“Do it,” Ryan ordered. They needed to get the ship repaired before something major stopped working, stranding them in space. If that were to happen, they would be easy prey for the Kleese.

-

Casey was sitting with Ryan in the ship’s single mess hall toying with her food. As had been normal since the Kleese had originally abducted them, she had no idea what she was eating. The food she had chosen today had a highly salty taste with a sharp flavoring with which she was not familiar.

“How long are we going to stay on Delton?” asked Casey.

She’d made it a habit to stay away from Ryan’s personal quarters, as she didn’t trust her emotions. She wondered at times how normal humans handled their feelings. At times, her desire for Ryan nearly overwhelmed her. When she’d mentioned that to Lauren, her friend had only smiled and indicated she should pay a visit to Ryan’s quarters. Casey wondered why they didn’t teach clones more about how to deal with these powerful emotions.

“I don’t know,” answered Ryan. “He was eating some type of meat that looked like steak, but he doubted if the Kleese or any of the worlds in their empire had cows. “We need to figure out how to land on the planet without being detected and then contact Fleet Commander Achlyn’s family.”

“What if we can’t?”

“If we can’t land, then we go on to Tranton as Lieutenant Guthrie has suggested,” answered Ryan, putting his fork down and looking across the table at Casey. “If we land and can’t find anyone to contact, at least we know Delton is a habitable world that we can live on. In that case we pick out an isolated area, perhaps in a mountainous region, hide the assault ship and stay there until this war is settled one way or the other.”

“That could be years,” Casey said softly, her eyes growing wide at the thought of spending possibly the rest of her life on the planet. At least she would be with her friends and Ryan.

“Possibly,” Ryan admitted. He reached his hand across the table and placed it on top of Casey’s. “At least we’ll all be together.” If they couldn’t find the help they needed, they might never make it back to the Alliance in their lifetimes. He was glad he’d already said his goodbye’s to Wade and his parents in the letter he had left his brother. He just hoped Wade found it.

-

In the Command Center, Lauren and Alexander were talking. It was relatively quiet since the ship was in Fold Space and Lauren was watching the Helm as Autumn had gone to her quarters to get some much needed rest.

“We’re not going home, are we?” Alexander said despondently. He was standing behind Lauren, watching her check the flight controls. He wasn’t looking forward to possibly being stranded on Delton.

“I don’t know,” answered Lauren, glancing over her shoulder at Alexander. “I think it’s going to be difficult finding someone to help us keep the systems on this ship functioning. These assault ships weren’t designed to travel clear across the Kleese Empire. They normally do so berthed in the flight bays of exploration cruisers. If we had an experienced crew and the necessary spare parts, maybe we could do it. I’ve looked at some of the systems we’re having trouble with. There are detailed manuals that tell us how to make minor adjustments, but none of us has gone through the proper technical training for repairing an assault ship. We know enough to operate the controls and that’s about it.”

“At least if we get stranded, you can bunk with me,” Alexander said in a casual voice. That would be one bright side to staying on Delton. Lauren did have a cute figure, and he wouldn’t mind getting to know her in that way.

“Whoa there, Alexander,” replied Lauren, quirking her eyebrow and giving Alexander a dangerous look. “I’m not planning on bunking with anybody, at least not yet. Just keep your pants on.”

A blinking red light on the flight control console drew her attention before she could say anything else to Alexander. “Now what?” she mumbled, leaning forward and checking a data screen to see what the problem was.

A primary engineering system had shut down and its backup had been activated. The failed system controlled the ship’s inertial compensators.

“Shit,” muttered Lauren worriedly. “If we don’t land soon this ship is going to fail completely.”

“What’s wrong now?” asked Alexander, seeing Lauren’s look of concern. He felt helpless in this situation, as he knew hardly anything about technical issues.

“The primary inertial compensator system has failed,” she replied. “The backup came on automatically.”

“What does this inertial compensator thing do?” asked Alexander, looking confused.

“It’s what protects us from rapid changes in gravity during acceleration and deceleration,” Lauren patiently explained. “At the speed this ship accelerates, we would all lose consciousness or could even be killed if we weren’t protected from the G-forces.”

“This isn’t good is it?” Alexander said, forgetting about his attempt to flirt with Lauren.

“No, it’s not,” she replied. “But there’s nothing we can do about it. The secondary system should get us to Delton.”

“Should we notify Lieutenant Nelson or Lieutenant Guthrie?”

“No,” answered Lauren, shaking her head. She knew Autumn needed her rest and Ryan and Casey were in the mess hall eating. They deserved their privacy. She still didn’t understand why Casey hadn’t spent a night with Ryan. She knew if she were in Casey’s place, she would have. Maybe she needed to have a little talk with her again. “There’s nothing they can do. We just have to hope everything keeps working long enough to get us to where we’re going.”

Alexander nodded. They were in a bad situation and their options were rapidly dwindling. He turned and went back to the tactical console. Flipping on the screen, he began practicing different scenarios using the ship’s weapons. He knew he wasn’t very good at it, but at least he knew how to activate the ship’s energy weapons as well as its four heavy pulse fusion beams. He still wasn’t sure if he felt confident enough to launch one of the ship’s antimatter missiles.

-

Military Overlord Harmock was standing on the Command Pedestal in the Command Center of his flagship, the battlecruiser Warrior’s Fire. The humans in the assault ship had escaped him and he’d finally called off the search. Once again they were on course for the home system.

“In another week we’ll be there,” reported Gareth as he checked the data on his command console.

“Without the humans,” replied Harmock in his cold voice. “We have lost an opportunity to gather valuable information about our enemy.”

“You still think the humans are that dangerous?”

“Yes,” Harmock answered, his triangular shaped head looking toward Gareth. “They are potentially the greatest threat our empire has ever faced.”

“The latest report from Kaluse indicates our new war fleets will be ready in four more months.”

“They will be needed,” Harmock replied.

They’d stopped at the trading station in Sector Three and discovered what the Humans and their Alliance had done to the stations in Sectors Nine and Twelve. That’s where they’d received the report from Kaluse about the new war fleets, as well as a worrisome communication from Overlord Darthu indicating Xatul knew about the hatchings as well as the new Queens.

“With our new fleets we will crush this Human led Alliance,” uttered Gareth in a hard and determined voice. “Then we will go on to the human’s home system and sterilize it. No humans will be allowed to survive. We will eradicate their species and return all of our trading stations to their rightful locations.”

“I fear it will not be that easy,” responded Harmock, folding his powerful dark arms across his chest. “The human led Alliance will be expecting our attack and resist with every ship they have. It will be a great battle and we will suffer grievous losses, but in the end, our new warships will win. We must allow this war with the humans to teach us not to underestimate an enemy ever again. Once the humans have been taken care of, we will begin our advance across the galaxy. Out there we will encounter other races that will be just as dangerous. We must be ready when that happens.”

“And we shall defeat them,” Gareth responded.

Harmock didn’t reply. In another week, he would make his move to take over the Council of Overlords. He’d decided to challenge Xatul to a personal duel. It would reduce the chance of battle between his Zaltule battlecruisers and the exploration ships Xatul kept in orbit of the home world. Once Xatul was disposed of, the other Kleese Overlords would be asked to step down or face personal challenges of their own. He strongly suspected most, if not all of them, would agree to relinquish their seats on the council to the Zaltule Harmock had already chosen. Once he had command of the Council of Overlords, he would use the empire’s assault ships and exploration ships to increase the expansion of the empire across the galaxy.

-

Wade, Beth, Major Winfrey, and Marken were in the Command Center of the Defender. The fleet had been underway for a number of weeks now and was daily getting deeper into the Kleese Empire. It had stopped on the outskirts of a small M Class star orange-red in color to undergo routine maintenance checks.

“Several of the assault ships need some serious work done to their systems,” Ensign Snider reported from Communications. “Estimated repair time is fourteen hours.”

“I was afraid we would have problems with those ships,” commented Commander Greer. “They weren’t designed for such long deployments.”

“At least we have the spare parts and technicians to fix anything that goes wrong,” replied Wade. It was one of the reasons they’d only brought fifty of the assault ships. Admiral Rivers had been fairly certain he could keep fifty operating, but more than that might have put a strain on the resources of the fleet.

“Admiral Rivers has sent two assault ships out to scan the former nonaligned world that’s in our immediate area,” added Captain Damon. She was concerned that one day these missions might lead the Kleese back to the fleet. Anytime a reconnaissance mission was out she felt apprehensive.

“Marken, do you still think we’re seeing a sharp division between the two Kleese castes?” Beth asked.

She and Marken had both come over to the Defender to speak with Wade. She was planning to stay on board until their next dropout from Fold Space. Major Jeffries could handle things on the Argyle until she returned. It would be nice to spend some quality time with her husband.

“We’ve scanned a dozen former nonaligned worlds,” Marken began. “In every case there’s been an absence of assault ships and Kleese exploration vessels. The only warships we’ve seen have been the occasional Zaltule battlecruiser.”

“Even at the trading station in Sector Six things seemed off,” Wade added, looking over at Marken. “There were only two exploration ships there and half a dozen Zaltule battlecruisers. That’s far less than normal.”

“Do you think there’s a possibility of the two Kleese castes going to war with one another?” asked Captain Damon. Such a conflict could significantly weaken the empire and buy the Alliance years of time to prepare to take on the eventual winner.

“I doubt it,” replied Marken, shaking his head. “Both castes are dedicated to expanding the Kleese Empire. While they may disagree, I can’t see them doing anything to put that goal in jeopardy.”

“I don’t know,” Wade said with a deep frown on his face. “These Zaltule aren’t popular with the other Kleese. I spoke in depth to Minor Overlord Betel about this, and he thinks the Zaltule are a danger to the empire.” Betel was locked up in the brig on the Defender under heavy guard.

“Why did you bring that Kleese with us?” asked Beth. She despised the Kleese and felt the only good one was one with its head cut off. She knew her husband was spending hours talking to his prisoner.

“He’s becoming more talkative every day,” answered Wade. “Besides, when we get to Delton he might be very useful. I think with the right persuasion we can get some valuable intel from him.”

“Maybe he’ll let us know the most likely places our abducted Marines have been taken,” Major Winfrey suggested, glancing over at Wade. “It would make rescue a lot easier if we knew exactly where they’re being held.”

“By now, they’ve probably reached the Kleese home system,” said Beth. “I worry about what might be happening to them.”

“Betel has hinted they’ll be interrogated by the Zaltule first,” Wade answered pensively. “He thinks it will be at least a week or two before any of them are turned over to the labs to be experimented on.”

“If they experiment on my Marines, I won’t show the Kleese any mercy,” Major Winfrey uttered in a dead serious voice. “Those men and women are some of the best we have and don’t deserve such a fate.”

“I agree,” Beth replied. “If and when we go in, I plan on killing as many Kleese as possible. We need to set an example and show them what it’s like to be hunted and killed without mercy.”

Wade was silent. He knew Beth was angry over Ryan being captured as well as what the Kleese had done to Earth. Her former fiancée had died in the attack though his remains were never found. It was only after considerable mourning that Beth had found her true love in Wade.

Wade had been fortunate, as both of his parents as well as his little brother had found their way to the survival camp at Jornada. Now his brother was a prisoner of the Kleese, and as much as he hated to admit it, he was feeling the same way toward the Kleese as Beth.

“Contacts!” called out Ensign Walton as a red warning light on his sensor console began blinking.

“What is it?” demanded Commander Greer his eyes focusing sharply on the sensor operator.

“Four unknown contacts have dropped out of Fold Space at eighty-two million kilometers,” Walton reported.

“Identity?”

“Not known,” Walton replied. “I’m running their profiles through the ship’s data base, but so far nothing has matched.”

“We’re to go to Condition Two,” reported Captain Damon. She’d been listening to fleet communications and had picked up the command from the Independence.

“Make it so,” ordered Commander Greer. He was concerned their mission might have just been blown. If they were discovered this deep into Kleese space, they could be put in a very precarious situation very swiftly.

-

What do we have?” inquired Admiral Rivers, as he buckled himself into his command chair in case they had to implement combat maneuvers.

“Four unidentified ships,” replied Colonel Greerman, studying the data coming across his data screen. “All four are around three hundred meters in length and fifty in diameter.”

“What’s their course?”

“Inward toward the small asteroid field we detected earlier.”

“Miners,” suggested Lieutenant Mandy Hertz from her sensor console. “I’m not detecting any strong energy signals emanating from the ships, which is indicative they’re not armed.”

“They might have a mining operation on one of the asteroids,” suggested Greerman with a thoughtful look upon his face.

“They’re not even using any active scans,” added Lieutenant Hertz. “I don’t believe they’ve detected us yet.”

“Keep an eye on them,” Rivers ordered as he unbuckled the restraining harness to his command chair. “Take the fleet back to Condition Three.”

-

The captain of the mining ship Lantol leaned back in his command chair and yawned. He was humanoid with a dark complexion and large eyes. His hair was black and shoulder length as was customary for his race. This was his tenth trip to the mining operation in the Jalen system. It contained one lone asteroid field, but several of the asteroids had been found to be rich in heavy metals. A small, highly profitable mining operation had begun with the approval of the Kleese. One fourth of everything they mined had to be turned over to the Kleese as payment for being allowed to mine the system. It was a steep price, but they had no other choice but to pay it.

“Captain, I’m picking up some vague contacts on the sensors,” the sensor operator reported.

The captain sat up, concerned they might have some claim jumpers in the system. “Full power to the sensors and let’s see who’s out there.”

The sensor operator busied himself at his console for a moment before turning back to the captain. “I’m picking up a large fleet of ships, including some Kleese assault ships.”

“Kleese assault ships,” muttered the captain unhappily. “Helm, turn us toward the Kleese. We need to remind them we have their permission to mine this system.”

-

“Admiral!” called out Lieutenant Hertz in alarm. “We’re being scanned.”

Looking up at the main tactical display, Admiral Rivers watched as one of the ships slowed and turned toward the fleet.

“They’ve detected us,” said Colonel Greerman.

“Send an assault ship toward them,” Rivers ordered. “Have them send a message to the mining ship informing them this is a Kleese fleet on maneuvers and to continue on their way. Tell them they can continue with their mining operation, but they’re not to speak a word as to what they observed in this system.”

“Do you think that’ll work?” asked Greerman, looking doubtful.

“It should,” replied Admiral Rivers. “All these worlds are under Kleese domination and are fearful of upsetting them. I think they’ll be more than willing to keep their mouths shut.”

On the screen, Admiral Rivers watched as an assault ship rapidly accelerated out to rendezvous with the inbound mining ship. The mining ship came to a stop as soon as it detected the assault ship coming toward it. They instantly began broadcasting that they had permission to mine this system and intended no harm. The assault ship’s captain told the miners to go on to their mining operation and not speak of what they had seen here. The mining ship’s captain quickly replied they would obey and to forgive them for intruding on Kleese operations. The mining ship rapidly turned and rejoined the others. Once they were together again, they continued toward one of the larger asteroids in the asteroid field.

-

The captain of the lead mining ship shook his head. Not only did he have to coordinate his mining operation, he also had to stay out of the way of several hundred Kleese ships. He’d already decided that, for this trip, he would have his miners concentrate on the asteroid they were already mining and not do any prospecting. With the Kleese in the system, he didn’t want any incidents. While neither he nor any of his crews wore the Kleese collars of obedience, he knew others on his home world who did, and he had no desire to suffer that fate. He would do as the commander of the assault ship asked and not reveal to anyone the presence of their large fleet in the mining system. Though he couldn’t understand just why they had chosen this system to play their war games in.

-

“That’s settled for now,” Admiral Rivers said as the assault ship returned to its formation. “As soon as the reconnaissance ships return and all repairs have been made, we need to get back into Fold Space. While I don’t think the captain of that mining ship will say anything, I would rather play it on the safe side.”

“I agree,” replied Colonel Greerman. He walked over to Communications to speak with Ensign Martin Entz. “Monitor their communications, particularly any FTL messages. If they send out anything, I want to know about it pronto.”

“Yes, sir,” Entz replied.

-

“That’s taken care of, for now,” said Captain Damon as she listened to fleet communications. “Admiral Rivers is ordering us to be prepared to leave as soon as the repairs to the assault ships have been made and the reconnaissance ships return.”

Wade nodded. For a brief moment, he’d been fearful the Kleese had found the fleet.

“It still may be a problem,” Commander Greer said, watching the tactical screen as the four small red icons continued on toward the asteroid field. “If they took detailed scans of our fleet they might have recognized the Delton ships with us. We’re getting close enough to Fleet Commander Achlyn’s home world that some of these races may be familiar with Delton vessels. We have quite a few in our fleet when you include the passenger liners and cargo ships.”

“It’s a risk,” Marken said, his narrow eyes looking over at the commander. “However, if the captain of that mining ship believes our assault ship was a Kleese, he will obey. No race this far inside the empire wants to risk aggravating the Kleese in any way. He and his crews will remain silent.”

“I would like to go over the plans to furnish Marines for the egress points on Delton,” Major Winfrey said. “Fleet Commander Achlyn has requested we supply at least a platoon of Marines in either Type Three or Type Four battlesuits for each evacuation location.”

“Good idea,” replied Wade, nodding his head. “We’ll set up an audio and visual feed so Major Jeffries can listen in and make recommendations as well.”

As the four left the Command Center, Wade couldn’t help thinking about his brother. Where was Ryan now, what were the Kleese doing to him, and even more importantly, was Ryan even still alive? He let out a deep sigh, knowing there was a chance he would never know the answers to those questions.

Chapter Seventeen

“Exiting Fold Space in twenty minutes,” reported Lieutenant Guthrie as she nervously watched her flight controls. Another warning light had come on and was blinking furiously on her flight control panel. Autumn checked a data screen and a worried frown crossed her face. “Lieutenant, we’re developing a problem with the Fold Space Drive.”

“What type of problem?” asked Ryan, growing concerned. It seemed as if every time he turned around there was another problem with the ship. The lack of any qualified technicians was wearing heavily on the ship’s systems.

“I’m not sure,” Autumn replied as she peered at a data screen. “My best guess is the drive is slightly out of alignment; it’s drawing more energy to keep the space in front of the ship warped.”

Ryan nodded. He knew the drive worked on the principal of folding space, or warping space as some scientists called it. The process made space directly in front of the ship collapse, making the distance between two points come closer together. He didn’t fully understand the science behind it other than it worked and required a tremendous amount of energy. The more the space in front of the ship was warped, the faster a vessel could travel.

“Can we stay in Fold Space?”

“For now,” Autumn replied, as she ran some quick calculations on the growing demand for energy from the drive. “However, I don’t know if we’ll be able to jump back into Fold Space again once we exit. The energy requirement may be greater than what the ship’s power systems can provide.”

“I would give anything for a good engineer,” spoke up Casey. She was sitting in the second command chair next to Ryan. She knew the system problems on the assault ship were becoming serious.

“If we can’t land on Delton, can we make it to Tranton?” asked Ryan, looking inquiringly at Autumn.

“I don’t know,” she replied pensively as she tried to run some more numbers on her screen. “The drive is demanding more power with every passing minute. We can reduce the power to the drive, which will greatly decrease our speed, but if the power requirement increases to the point where the ship’s fusion reactor can’t provide it, we’ll drop out of Fold Space. We’ll be reliant upon the ship’s subspace drive, and if we’re too far away from a star system we could die of old age before we reach it.”

“Or starve to death,” Alexander said worriedly. “We don’t have the supplies for a long drawn out trip.”

“Then we have to make Delton work,” Ryan said decisively. This might be a problem, as the Kleese could have a powerful presence in the system. There was a good possibility their assault ship would be detected as soon as they dropped out of Fold Space.

Everyone remained relatively quiet as the minutes slowly ticked by. The counter on the main viewscreen was moving toward zero and the anxiety in the Command Center was rising. Autumn was nervously watching the steadily increasing power demand from the ship’s drive.

“We’ll make it,” Casey said encouragingly, looking over at Ryan.

“Go take over Communications,” Ryan replied, glancing over at Casey. “We may need them once we arrive in the Delton system.”

Casey stood up and made her way to the large Communications console. She had already familiarized herself with it and could send and receive messages as needed. Sitting down in the overly large chair in front of the console, Casey began powering everything up in preparation for their exit from Fold Space.

Ryan looked around the Command Center. The primary stations were staffed, but many of the secondary ones were still vacant. He hoped they could find what they needed in the Delton system. If not, they would never be able to make it back home.

“Drop out!” reported Autumn with relief in her voice as the assault ship reentered normal space.

Ryan heard the constant thrum from the Fold Space Drive fade away, and the viewscreens suddenly cleared, showing views of space. Hundreds of stars appeared, shining their unwavering light upon the assault ship.

“Contacts,” called out Private Hopper from her sensor console as numerous red threat icons began to appear.

“What do you have?” asked Ryan, gazing intently at the tactical screen, which was being updated from the ship’s sensors. He hoped they hadn’t emerged from Fold Space next to a Kleese warship. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he waited for her response.

“Cargo ships,” Private Hopper reported with a deep sigh of relief. “We have seven cargo ships within twenty million kilometers of us. We exited Fold Space near the seventh planet and it has a large number of active mining operations on its moons.”

“Set course for Delton,” Ryan ordered satisfied the ship wasn’t in any immediate danger. “Try to stay out of the main space lanes so we won’t be detected.”

“I’m sure we already have been,” Lauren said from her spot at the ship’s main Navigation console. “Those cargo ships probably detected us as soon as we exited Fold Space.”

“I’m not receiving anything on Communications,” Casey added. “We’re not being challenged or asked for any type of identification.”

“Probably because we’re in a Kleese assault ship,” Ryan responded.

“Setting course,” Autumn reported as she activated the ship’s subspace drive.

“Take us toward Delton and let’s see if we get challenged as we near the planet. Keep our sensors active as I want to know if there are any Kleese ships in the system.”

“It’ll be a few minutes before our sensor scans range on the planet,” reported Private Hopper.

Ryan nodded and leaned back in his command chair. They’d made it safely to the Delton system and now came the hard part, finding a safe place to land and making contact with Deltons who would be willing to aid them. The second part might be nearly impossible if there was a large Kleese presence upon the planet.

The assault ship turned toward Delton and began to accelerate. It would be hours before they reached the planet, which gave them plenty of time to search for Kleese ships. It also gave the Kleese plenty of time to spot them.

-

A number of hours later, Ryan looked at Private Hopper in disbelief. “Nothing?” he asked, feeling confused. “Are you certain there are no Kleese ships in the system?”

“None,” replied Private Hopper, nodding her head. “All of my scans have come back negative. There are no Kleese exploration ships or Zaltule battlecruisers anywhere in the system. If there are any assault ships, they have to be down on the planet.”

“Have we received any challenges from Delton?”

“No,” replied Casey, who was still at the Communications console. “I’m picking up standard communications between the cargo ships in the system and what appears to be Delton Flight Control, but no inquiry as to our presence. It’s as if they’re ignoring us.”

“Take us into high orbit and let’s see what happens,” ordered Ryan, taking a deep breath and leaning forward in his command chair. The chair was so large it was nearly impossible to feel comfortable. His feet just barely touched the floor.

Ryan was growing more confused by the minute. Why would the Kleese leave an important planet such as Delton defenseless? They had fought a pitched battle against Fleet Commander Achlyn in order to take the system. True, the planet was deep within the empire, but you would think there’d at least be a battlecruiser or several assault ships in orbit to ensure none of the escaped Delton warships returned.

“Going into standard orbit at twenty thousand kilometers,” reported Autumn as she reduced power to the sublight drive and placed the ship in orbit.

“Scanning the surface,” Private Hopper added, as her hands moved over the sensor controls making subtle adjustments. “I’m not detecting any unusual activity and there are no assault ships on the spaceports on this side of the planet.”

“I have a challenge,” reported Casey from Communications with a sudden look of surprise on her face. “It’s from a Kleese, Minor Overlord Craed. He’s demanding to know when the exploration ship that was in orbit will be returning.”

“Do we have a location of where he’s communicating from?” Ryan asked. At least they knew there had been an exploration ship here recently. They also knew there were Kleese down on the surface.

“The capital city,” Private Hopper responded. “It’s on this side of the planet.”

“Send a short message stating the exploration ship will be returning shortly,” Ryan ordered. Minor Overlord Craed had no reason to believe the assault ship wasn’t under Kleese control. A quick, brief message shouldn’t cause him to become suspicious. “Autumn, as soon as we get on the far side of the planet we need to find someplace safe to set down. Private Hopper, find us a place, preferably a mountainous area that’s sparsely populated. We can camouflage the assault ship and use the drop ships to take us where we need to go.”

“This is a highly civilized planet,” Casey pointed out. On the main viewscreen it was night on the side of the planet they were currently above. The landmasses below were covered in city lights, with many cities seeming to merge into the next. “It might be difficult to find a suitable landing spot.”

“We have to try,” answered Ryan, knowing Casey was right. “We have to hope they are environmentalists and have a few areas designated for wildlife and wilderness preservation. Most of the Alliance worlds do; we’ll assume the Deltons are the same.”

Autumn carefully piloted the assault ship until they were on the far side of the planet away from the Delton capital where they knew there was a Kleese presence. As they came around the planet to the daylight side, they could see several small blue oceans as well as a large landmass.

“There’s a large forested area with some very big mountains on the continent below,” Private Hopper reported as she checked her scans. “I’m guessing it’s some type of nature preserve as there are few signs of settlements.”

“Like the national parks we used to have on Earth,” suggested Lauren. She adjusted some controls and the main viewscreen suddenly displayed the forested area Private Hopper mentioned. A large part of it was concealed with cloud cover though their sensors could easily penetrate to the surface.

“There seems to be some heavy storms in the central section,” Ryan said, seeing the flashes of lightning in the upper levels of the clouds. “Autumn, take us down into that stormy area; it might help to shield us from anyone that detects us coming down. Once we’re beneath the cloud layer, we’ll look for a place to set down.”

The assault ship changed its course and gradually began its descent through the atmosphere.

“Ryan, we’re being hailed from the surface,” Casey suddenly reported with worry flashing across her face. “They’re demanding to know why we’re flying toward the Killen National Forest Preserve. It’s off limits to all aircraft, including space vessels.”

“Inform them we’re doing routine scans and will be gone shortly,” ordered Ryan, taking a deep breath. He hoped the fact this was a Kleese assault ship would silence whoever had detected them.

Casey sent the message and leaned back waiting to see if she got a response. There were no more messages, just silence.

“Coming up on the storms,” Autumn reported. The ship’s energy shield was activated at a low level to allow them to pass safely through the atmosphere without heating up the hull. It would also protect them from the lightning.

Ryan watched the viewscreens as they entered the upper cloud layer, seeing occasional bright flashes of cloud-to-cloud lightning. They continued to descend and soon were beneath the clouds and in heavy rain.

“It’s been awhile since I saw rain like this,” spoke up Alexander, recalling what an Earth thunderstorm had been like. On the screen, the rain was coming down in heavy sheets, obscuring the surface below.

“I’m taking us parallel to the surface,” Autumn reported as she flew the assault ship at an altitude of two thousand meters. “Using the ship’s sensors to detect any obstacles as there are a few mountains around.”

For the next twenty minutes, the assault ship flew above the surface, then Ryan ordered Autumn to take the ship lower. It was time to find a refuge.

-

In the Kleese home star system, Military Overlord Harmock had taken a portion of his fleet into orbit around the home world. The rest he’d sent on to the Zaltule shipyards for routine maintenance and updating.

“Are you certain?” demanded the Military Overlord in his cold overbearing voice.

“It’s confirmed,” Jalridd replied as he finished his sensor sweep. “There are no exploration cruisers in orbit. There are a few farther out in the system, but none that owe allegiance to Supreme Overlord Xatul.”

“Something has happened,” said Minor Overlord Gareth, his multifaceted eyes focusing on the Military Overlord. “Xatul would not have removed his ships from orbit without a reason.”

“We shall find out shortly,” replied Harmock coldly. “Contact the Great Hall of the Council of Overlords and inform them I’m coming down to address the council.”

“Will you be taking an armed escort?” Gareth asked. He didn’t trust Xatul. This sounded like some type of trap.

“Yes,” replied Harmock as he stepped down from the Command Pedestal. “I want twenty of our best warriors to accompany me. If this is a trap, we’ll make short work of it. When I return, the Zaltule will finally have control of the council as we always should have.”

“This will be a great day for the Zaltule and the empire,” announced Gareth with great satisfaction in his voice. He looked toward the main viewscreen and the massive city on the surface. Today the Zaltule would take their rightful heritage.

-

Harmock took a large combat shuttle down to the surface. The pilot quickly flew to the single remaining city on the planet, which ruled the empire. The capital city spread out over one hundred kilometers with ten million Kleese, who monitored everything needed to run an empire nearly eighteen thousand light years across and consisting of thousands of worlds. Towering buildings reached for the sky and massive structures, which controlled the empire covered entire city blocks. The architecture was harsh and brutal with no care taken for aesthetics. The city served one purpose and one purpose only, to rule and expand the empire.

The shuttle landed on a landing pad on the roof of the Great Hall and Harmock’s Zaltule bodyguards quickly fanned out across the rooftop, making sure there were no hidden assassins. The bodyguards were all wearing Type Three battlesuits and carrying RG rifles as well as Energy Lances.

“Roof is clear,” the commander of the bodyguards reported to Harmock.

“Leave four warriors on this roof to guard the shuttle, the rest will accompany me into the council chambers.” Harmock looked across the rooftop. There were several other shuttles present but no pilots or other Kleese.

“As you command, Overlord,” the bodyguards’ commander replied. He quickly made the necessary assignments. Those chosen to accompany the Military Overlord formed up around Harmock, and they began walking toward the council chamber.

As Harmock made his way through the massive building, which contained the Great Hall where the Council of Overlords met, he couldn’t help noticing how few Kleese he was seeing. Many of the workstations were vacant and those Kleese he did see seemed to be in the process of leaving.

Reaching the Great Hall, two of his bodyguards pushed the massive doors open and Harmock stepped inside. With surprise, his multifaceted eyes saw only four Overlords standing at the massive stone table; Darthu and the three other Zaltule Overlords he had personally chosen months back to represent the Zaltule on the council. All the others were absent.

“Where are the other Overlords?” demanded Harmock sharply. How dare they not acknowledge his presence! “Where is Supreme Overlord Xatul?”

“Did you not receive my message?” asked Darthu, his large triangular head turning to face the Military Overlord.

“What message?”

“The one telling you that Xatul has disappeared,” Darthu replied.

He didn’t want to upset Harmock but strongly suspected what he was about to say would. He looked nervously past the Supreme Military Overlord at the heavily armed bodyguards who had entered with him. His coming words might very well mean his death.

“Disappeared?” responded Harmock, suspecting treachery. “Where has he gone?” He took several steps closer to Darthu, his six legs making clicking noises on the stone floor of the council chambers.

“No one knows. He boarded one of the exploration cruisers in orbit and shortly after that, the entire fleet jumped into Fold Space. No one has heard from him since.”

“What about the rest of the council; where are they?”

Harmock could feel his anger growing. Xatul and the other council members had demanded he appear before them. He was growing tempted to send his bodyguards searching through the building for the missing Overlords. They would be dragged into the council chamber where they would suffer his wrath for their failure to appear.

Darthu shifted uneasily on his six legs. “Before Supreme Overlord Xatul left, he called a meeting of the council and disbanded it.”

“What!” roared Harmock, his long dark hands turning into tightly clenched fists.

“He disbanded the council,” repeated Darthu, not caring for where this conversation was going.

“The other council members agreed?”

Harmock could scarcely believe what he was hearing. The Council of Overlords had ruled the Kleese race and empire for thousands of years. The council ensured the Kleese did not fight amongst each other, but instead focused their aggressiveness toward growing the empire. Without the strong hands of the council, the empire would shatter into hundreds of small, competing fiefdoms.

“Several of the less important Overlords objected, but they were overruled by Supreme Overlord Xatul, Overlord Bixutl, and Overlord Syndat.”

Harmock walked over to the head of the table and stood quietly for a moment. He would reinstate the council and include several of the former Kleese Overlords, but the majority of the new Overlords on the council would be Zaltule. By including them, it would ensure its legitimacy. He also wondered just what Xatul was up to. He didn’t like the fact that he’d disappeared with so many exploration cruisers. He suspected Bixutl and Syndat were in on whatever Xatul was planning.

For now, Supreme Overlord Xatul had escaped the challenge Harmock had planned. Harmock knew as long as Xatul and the others with him stayed out of his reach there was little he could do. Xatul had obviously been planning this for a while and Harmock had to admit some respect for the now former Supreme Overlord of the Kleese. The big question for Harmock was what was Xatul planning?

“Send messages to all the trading stations; I want to know the status of their exploration ships,” ordered Harmock. If the ones that had been in orbit over the home world had gone with Xatul, what about others? “I also want messages sent to all of our bases asking the same thing. There are over twelve hundred exploration ships in our empire. I want to know the current location of every one of them!”

“What about the trading stations the humans and their Alliance took?” asked Darthu. “How soon before we launch an attack to bring them back?”

“Not until the new fleets are completed,” answered Harmock. “I will be taking the new fleets as well as three thousand of our regular Zaltule battlecruisers. It’s time this human led Alliance is crushed once and for all.”

“And the humans?”

“Their system will be cleansed,” Harmock replied in a cold and harsh voice. “We will search their system, all of the Alliance worlds, and the space between to ensure not a single human vessel escapes our wrath. I expect heavy casualties in this attack, as the humans won’t surrender and will fight until their last ship is blown out of space.”

“What about our new Queens?”

“They shall be taken to form new nests,” Harmock answered. “It’s time the Zaltule grow in numbers and take our place as the dominate Kleese caste. We will rule the empire and expand it across the galaxy. None will stand in our way.”

Darthu nodded, fearing to say anything else that might upset the Military Overlord, who was now also the Supreme Overlord of the Kleese race. Darthu was deeply concerned as to what former Supreme Overlord Xatul was up to. He was worried that when the messages went out to determine where all the exploration ships were, they were going to find many more were missing. Darthu strongly suspected they’d not heard the last from the former Kleese Supreme Overlord.

Chapter Eighteen

Admiral Rivers gazed at the main viewscreen in the Command Center of the Independence. It showed a gas-shrouded planet with no visible surface.

“Composition?” inquired the Admiral, looking over at Colonel Greerman. They had only recently arrived in the system and he was anxious to get the fleet hidden from detection.

“Primarily hydrogen and helium with trace amounts of sulfur, nitrogen, and oxygen,” the colonel reported. “Preliminary scans indicate the atmosphere is composed of 82 percent hydrogen and 12 percent helium, with minute traces of other gases. It’s very similar to Jupiter’s atmosphere.”

“There are strong storms in some sections,” cautioned Lieutenant Hertz. She’d spent the last twenty minutes monitoring some of the more powerful storms with wind speeds in excess of three hundred kilometers per hour. “The planet has a molten core with a temperature of 42,000 degrees Fahrenheit. Its diameter is one hundred twenty thousand kilometers and has a rotational period of fourteen hours.”

“That should suffice to hide the fleet,” Rivers said, satisfied the planet’s turbulent and gaseous atmosphere would conceal the fleet from scans. “Notify the fleet to enter the upper regions of the atmosphere.”

Rivers then changed the setting on his comm channel so he could speak to Fleet Commander Achlyn. He knew the Delton was anxious to get his rescue operation underway. Achlyn had brought forty battlecruisers, sixteen passenger liners, and twenty-eight cargo ships, which had been converted to hold evacuees. The passenger liners and converted cargo ships were unarmed though they had a decent energy shield for protection.

“You can begin your rescue operation, Fleet Commander,” Rivers spoke over the comm channel.

“That’s good news,” Achlyn replied. “We’ll be launching our stealth shuttles shortly as soon as the Marines have finished boarding. Once we arrive at Delton, I’ll contact my family so they can aid in the evacuation. My cousin is high in the government and should have access to security files telling us where the members of my race we wish to evacuate are living.”

“Remember, if you run into trouble send an FTL message and I’ll bring the fleet.” Rivers had already stationed one of Fourth Fleet’s light cruisers on the far outskirts of the star system just in case Fleet Commander Achlyn ran into trouble in his rescue efforts. Delton was only a few light years distant, which would allow them to receive a distress call within minutes.

“Hopefully that will not be necessary,” Achlyn replied. He was taking his flagship as well as one of his fleet’s battlecruisers. They would make orbit just outside the last planet of his home system. Both ships had been covered in a special composite material, which should make them invisible to scans.

“Good luck, Fleet Commander,” Rivers said. This was going to be a delicate and dangerous operation. If the Kleese detected what was going on everything could fall apart rather quickly.

“Thank you, Admiral,” Achlyn replied.

“All scans show the system is still clear,” reported Lieutenant Hertz.

The fleet needed to be hidden in the planet’s deep atmosphere before a Kleese ship passed through the system. They were a little over a week out from the Kleese home world so their presence in this area of space was bound to be heavier. Lieutenant Hertz was keeping a close watch on her sensors in case a Kleese vessel showed up.

Around the planet, the ships of Fourth Fleet began to enter the gaseous atmosphere of the planet. Two hundred and eighteen ships slowly vanished beneath the cloud layers. The Independence was the last to descend and then only after seeing the Delton battlecruiser 236-557 detach itself from the fleet as well as the Delton flagship. With their flock of large shuttles, the two Delton cruisers began to accelerate away into deep space. After a few minutes, the small fleet jumped into Fold Space and vanished from the ship’s sensors.

“They’re gone,” reported Lieutenant Hertz. There were no other contacts.

“Take us into the atmosphere,” ordered Admiral Rivers, knowing now they would be playing a waiting game.

The Independence would be hovering in the outer regions of the planet’s atmosphere where she could still receive messages from the light cruiser out on sentry duty as well as detect any returning shuttles with evacuees. When that happened, the shuttles would be directed to the nearest passenger or cargo ship for unloading.

“Do you think this will work?” asked Colonel Greerman. The entire plan was fraught with danger.

“Maybe,” Admiral Rivers replied. “We’re going to give Fleet Commander Achlyn two uninterrupted weeks to remove his people from Delton, then we’re going to send a couple of assault ships to the Kleese home system. I want to know the exact coordinates of their shipyards as well as any other targets that might be worth hitting. Once they’re back, we’ll check additional systems where the Kleese might have major infrastructure for their war effort. We’ve gotten information from the computers on the captured trading stations and Colonel Nelson has gleaned considerable intel from his captured Kleese, Betel.”

“Can we trust what that arachnid is telling the colonel?”

“I think so,” Admiral Rivers said with a dangerous grin. “Colonel Nelson has made it very clear to Betel that if he’s caught in any lies, he’ll be tossed out the nearest airlock.”

“I hope Colonel Nelson catches him in a lie, then,” uttered Greerman. He had no love for the Kleese, not after what they’d done to Earth.

-

Fleet Commander Achlyn sat nervously in his command chair. His small fleet had entered Fold Space and would shortly be arriving at his home system. It had been many months since he’d last seen Delton, and he was anxious to see how it had suffered under Kleese rule. He just hoped no antimatter weapons had been used on its surface as had on Kivea.

“It will be good to return home,” said Second Commander Baylith. “It was a sad day when we were forced to withdraw and leave our people to the Kleese.”

“It’s no longer our world,” responded Achlyn with a heavy sigh. “The Kleese now tell our people what to do. I fear many of those we wish to rescue will be wearing the Kleese collars of obedience.”

“At least the Kiveans have given us a way to remove them,” answered Baylith, referring to the special scanning program Marken and his people had designed to neutralize the explosive collars.

“We’ll be landing at ten sites just outside the major cities,” Achlyn said, thinking over the plan they’d come up with. “We have two shuttles assigned to each evacuation site as well as a platoon of human Marines.”

“The primary site outside the capital has four shuttles and nearly a full company of Marines,” said Baylith.

“Yes, Captain Jamie Stern is in charge of the Marine contingent. I’ve met her and she’s a very capable officer,” Achlyn replied. “Daebenn is going down with her group and will be attempting to contact my cousin. He has a list of other influential people to contact as well.”

“I hope he’s successful,” replied Baylith. He didn’t say anything, but there was a chance the fleet commander’s cousin might not have survived the Kleese invasion.

The fleet commander became quiet as he looked around his Command Center. Delton ships were highly automated, relying on super efficient computers to operate their ships. This allowed for smaller crews, who were primarily responsible for ensuring the ship’s systems functioned as required. Even in battle, the computers did much of the fighting. The computers could control the ship’s movements, the targeting sensors, and even fire weapons as needed. The newer ships they were going to build in the human system wouldn’t be quite so dependent on computers. The humans had demonstrated time and time again how important and effective a highly trained crew could be in warfare. It would be an adjustment for the Deltons to make, but Achlyn reminded himself that in their early history, they had been a savage and warlike race. In order to survive, it might be necessary to embrace that distant heritage.

-

On the Kleese home world, Supreme Military Overlord Harmock gazed in anger at Darthu and the report he’d just delivered. It had taken nearly four weeks, but they now knew the extent of Xatul’s treachery.

“Tell me again what’s missing,” demanded Harmock in a cold and deadly voice. If he had been wearing his battlesuit, it would have been tempting to use his Energy Lance to decapitate his scientific advisor.

“Four hundred and eighty-two exploration cruisers are missing,” Darthu answered evenly, trying not to allow his voice to quiver, as he knew the Military Overlord was extremely unhappy with his report. “In addition, two more trading stations are also missing, as well as thousands of assault ships.”

“Which two trading stations?” Harmock’s eyes turned frigid as his triangular shaped head focused on Darthu.

“The ones in Sectors Four and Five,” Darthu answered.

“Close to Strell space,” said Harmock, wondering if there was a significance to that information.

“Yes,” answered Darthu. “Nearly every exploration cruiser and assault ship controlled by former Supreme Overlord Xatul, Overlord Bixutl, and Overlord Syndat are missing. The two trading stations were also under Syndat’s control.”

“I want the empire searched!” ordered Harmock sharply. “I want those three found.”

“We will have to use our own battlecruisers,” replied Darthu. “It will take months to search even a fraction of our empire.”

“What about the remaining trading stations and exploration ships?”

“They’re needed to keep the recently conquered nonaligned worlds in line as well as the numerous worlds from which we take conscripts.”

“We don’t take conscripts!” roared Harmock, rising to his full height on his six legs and glaring at Darthu. “Only the normal Kleese require conscripts; the Zaltule fight their own battles.”

“What are your orders?” Darthu asked. He knew his life was hanging in the balance.

“Send a squadron of Zaltule battlecruisers to each remaining trading station. I want all stations under our control. All Kleese currently in command are to be replaced with members of our own caste. Once we have firm control of the stations, begin sending out the exploration cruisers and the station’s assault ships to search for former Supreme Overlord Xatul’s forces. They have to be somewhere in the empire. I want them found!”

“It will be done,” Darthu said. He then turned and left the council chamber, relieved he was still alive.

“Those stations are the property of some of us,” commented Overlord Martule in a worrisome voice. The taking of the trading stations by the Zaltule would greatly affect the wealth of a number of powerful Kleese families. Martule and three other regular Kleese were all that remained of the original Council of Overlords.

“Not anymore,” Harmock replied, his multifaceted eyes focusing on Martule. “All trading stations are now the property of the empire and will henceforth be operated and commanded by the military caste. Does anyone object to my decree?” He allowed his eyes to roam over the four regular Kleese Overlords. All looked away.

Harmock turned toward several of his bodyguards who were always present. “Make my shuttle ready, I’m returning to the Warrior’s Fire. I wish to inspect the shipyards and our new battle fleets.” This problem with Xatul was threatening to delay his planned assault upon the humans and their Alliance. Until he could locate the former Supreme Overlord, Harmock was hesitant to launch an attack. There was a possibility that while he was gone Xatul might return and attempt to retake control of the council and the empire. That could not be allowed to happen.

-

Captain Jamie Sterns looked about her with worry as she tried to set up a defensive perimeter around the four grounded shuttles. They were in a heavily wooded area forty kilometers from the planet’s capital. Even worse, there were several small cities just a few kilometers away.

“I don’t like this,” Sergeant Dawson said as he walked up to the captain in his Type Three battlesuit, which was what the entire company wore. None of the platoons with Type Fours had been sent down to serve as security for the evacuation sites.

“We should be safe here,” spoke Daebenn, who was standing just in front of Jamie.

Daebenn was a Delton and slightly less than four feet tall. In contrast, the Type Three battlesuit was ten feet tall and weighed nearly one thousand pounds.

“We’re awfully close to those two small cities,” Dawson said, looking down at Daebenn. “What’s to stop some of your civilians from wondering into these woods and spotting our shuttles?”

“These woods are part of a nature preserve,” Daebenn explained in a patient voice. He sometimes felt these humans became too excited over the unknown. “It’s closed to the public during certain times of the year when the animals within are bearing their young. We have landed in the midst of that time period. It will be another five weeks before any Deltons venture into this forest.”

“I hope you’re right,” Jamie said. “Sergeant Dawson, we have four hover tanks with us. I want a perimeter set up one thousand meters out with motion detectors. The hover tanks need to be three hundred meters behind that, and I want them manned at all times.”

“Yes, Captain,” replied Dawson.

“We can use the hover tanks’ sensors to spot any inbound,” Jamie added. She then turned to Daebenn. “How soon can we begin evacuations?”

“There are twenty of us on this mission,” Daebenn answered. “We’ll be departing as soon as the sun sets. Our plans are to go to the nearest small city to procure transportation. From there we’ll split up and begin searching for the people on our lists. My own include several Deltons who were high up in our government as well as many involved in scientific research. I feel fairly certain that if we contact the right people first they will be more than willing to help in the evacuation.”

“Just be careful,” warned Jamie. “There are Kleese upon your world, and they must not learn of our presence.”

“They won’t,” promised Daebenn. “Though I found it strange there were no Kleese ships in orbit.”

Jamie nodded in agreement. She had found that strange also.

A noise distracted her and turning she saw one of the hover tanks come down the ramp of the nearest shuttle. Its large energy gun, twin secondary railgun cannons, and dual explosive launchers would provide a lot of firepower if needed. They also were capable of recharging a battlesuit if necessary.

“I’ll get the perimeter established,” Sergeant Dawson said as he began speaking to the Marine driving the hover tank.

He was going to place all four of the tanks first, as they could use their sensors to ensure the immediate area was clear. Then he would have a couple squads of Marines fan out to the one thousand meter perimeter and set up the motion sensors. If anyone came close to the shuttles, they’d know about it.

-

Fleet Commander Achlyn was on the outskirts of his home system looking at the latest sensor scans in confusion. Not a single red threat icon was showing.

“How certain are we these sensor readings are accurate?”

“They’re accurate,” Second Commander Baylith responded. “There are no Kleese vessels anywhere in the system. All we’re picking up are Delton cargo ships traveling back and forth between the different mining operations on the outer moons.”

“This is strange,” Achlyn replied with a frown. “Considering the size of the fleet they used to conquer our system, one would assume they would have at least a few assault ships in orbit.”

“Perhaps the rift between the two Kleese castes is more serious than we thought,” suggested Baylith. He was very familiar with Marken’s claims that there was major unrest between the two Kleese groups.

“We’ve encountered very few exploration cruisers in our scans of other systems as we made our journey to Delton,” added Achlyn, wondering if there was some truth in Baylith’s words. “There was also an absence of assault ships above many of those planets. Something odd is definitely going on.”

“We could drastically speed up the rescue operation if there are no Kleese ships,” recommended Baylith. “We could move our passenger liners and cargo ships into the outer regions of the system, which would make the turnaround time much shorter.”

Achlyn thought over Baylith’s recommendation for a long moment. “Not yet,” he said, preferring to play it cautious. “Let’s continue as planned for several weeks. If at the end of that time no Kleese have put in an appearance, then I will consider moving our rescue ships.”

Baylith nodded. He respected the fleet commander’s decision. It might indeed be wise to wait in case the Kleese did show up, which could put the unarmed rescue fleet in danger.

-

Captain Sterns was awoken from her sleep when her com unit in her tent began blinking and buzzing. Sliding out of her bunk, she hit the receive button. “Captain Sterns here.”

“We have inbound,” Sergeant Dawson’s voice came back. “The east hover tank is detecting them about two thousand meters out. Estimated number is nearly two hundred.”

“Battlesuits?” inquired Jamie, concerned it might be the Kleese or some of their conscripts. They’d only been down on the planet for about forty hours.

“No,” replied Sergeant Dawson. “We’re not picking up any power emissions of any type or indications of approaching armor.”

“It could be Deltons. Bring the camp to full alert; I’ll be there shortly.”

Jamie quickly dressed and stepped outside, walking over to where her Type Three command suit waited. Stepping inside, she waited for it to seal up and then activated the suit’s HUD, which displayed the contacts from the hover tank. The HUD was showing two hundred and twenty-three unidentified contacts slowly moving toward their position. It was just before sunup, with only the dim glow of the distant horizon indicating the Delton sun was about to rise. It was still dark in the surrounding forest.

“We have possible inbound hostiles,” she spoke over the general comm frequency. “There’s also the possibility this could be the first group of evacuees. Everyone hold your fire until we have a positive identification.”

Jamie quickly jogged over to where Sergeant Dawson was standing next to the east hover tank. “Report.”

“Eighteen hundred meters out and still closing,” Dawson reported. He was holding his RG rifle with his right hand down at his side.

“I have a comm message from Daebenn,” the Sensor and Communications operator in the hover tank reported. “He’s bringing in the first group of refugees.”

Jamie felt immensely relieved they weren’t facing an imminent attack. “The inbounds are Delton refugees,” she announced over the general comm frequency. “Everyone hold your fire.”

“Sergeant Dawson, organize a couple of squads to serve as escorts. Make sure there are no unauthorized weapons or communication devices on these Deltons. We don’t want any Kleese spies in our midst.”

The minutes passed as she waited for the first Deltons to appear. She knew they had to be moving slowly due to the near darkness in the thick forest. Many of the trees towered nearly sixty meters above them with a moderate amount of overgrowth on the forest floor.

“Got em!” called out Sergeant Dawson as several Deltons suddenly appeared in front of them as they stepped out from beneath the large trees.

“It’s Daebenn,” Jamie said, recognizing the small Delton.

Daebenn must have seen the Marines because he paused and then, upon recognizing Jamie’s command suit, he quickly walked up to her. “I have the first group,” he said excitedly. “I also need to send a message to Fleet Commander Achlyn. There have been no Kleese ships in the system in over a month. They all pulled out after receiving a message from Supreme Overlord Xatul.”

“What type of message?” Jamie was curious what could cause the Kleese to leave so suddenly.

“We don’t know,” answered Daebenn. “However, there are less than a dozen Kleese upon the planet and only about two hundred conscripts. All are in the capital or at the main spaceport outside the city.”

“Let’s get your people processed and inside the shuttles,” Jamie replied. “I’m sure Fleet Commander Achlyn will be interested in your report.”

Jamie watched for a while as the long line of Deltons moved slowly past her. Several wore Kleese explosive collars around their necks. These would be removed once they reached the shuttles. Many looked fearfully at the Marines in the towering battlesuits but continued to follow Daebenn and the Marines who were now escorting them. Jamie noticed there were both male and female Deltons as well as a number of small children. Families, Jamie realized. Most of these Deltons were family groups. When the last filed past, Jamie turned to follow. She wondered when Fleet Commander Achlyn found out just how small the Kleese presence was on his world, if he would order an attack to take out the Kleese and their conscripts. With the Defender and the Argyle, they had the Marines to carry out such an assault.

-

Fleet Commander Achlyn listened with astonishment to the report Daebenn was delivering over the ship’s comm. “Are you certain of those numbers?” he asked, finding it hard to believe the Kleese would leave the planet so lightly defended.

“It’s been confirmed,” Daebenn replied. “I managed to talk to several officials in the government and they’re just as confused by the Kleese withdrawal as everyone else.”

“If we took out the local Kleese and their conscripts, we could complete the evacuation in less than a week,” said Baylith. It would be a gamble, but the risk might be worth it.

“I need to speak to Admiral Rivers and Colonel Nelson,” Achlyn replied. Baylith was right; they could complete the evacuation very quickly if the fleet could be moved closer, possibly even into orbit around Delton. The only danger would be if the Kleese showed back up in the middle of everything.

“What about the Ruling Council?” asked Achlyn. He had a cousin on the council.

“The Kleese killed four of them upon landing on the planet,” Daebenn replied. “Kleese collars of obedience were placed around the necks of all the rest. The same goes for many of our leading scientists and professors of higher learning.”

“Were others killed as well?”

“Yes,” Daebenn answered with sadness in is voice. “Several hundred other Deltons were executed as an example to ensure cooperation. “Your cousin survived and is still on the council though as I said earlier, he’s wearing a Kleese explosive collar.”

“Not for long,” vowed Achlyn. “Continue the evacuation while I contact Admiral Rivers. We may indeed change our strategy.”

-

On the far side of the planet in a forested valley, a Kleese assault ship lay partially hidden beneath a massive stone ledge. The rest of it had been covered with small trees and limbs to make it blend in with its surroundings.

“Are you certain?” Lieutenant Nelson asked, his eyes focusing sharply on Casey.

“Almost,” Casey answered as she gazed at her comm console. “I’ve picked up what sounds like several messages from the surface to a Delton warship somewhere far out in the system.”

“How do you know it’s a warship?” challenged Lauren.

There was no way a Delton warship could be in the system. All the surviving ones were back in the solar system or part of Alliance fleets. Lauren was concerned Casey was letting her imagination make her hear something that wasn’t there. They all wanted to go home.

“The messages were highly encrypted,” answered Casey, wanting the others to believe her. “There’s no reason to use encrypted messages to cargo ships.”

“How do you know it wasn’t a Kleese?” asked Lauren, shaking her head in disbelief.

“The messages were on the wrong frequency,” Casey explained. She was beginning to doubt herself about what she’d heard.

Ryan leaned back in his command chair and thought over what Casey was saying. It was highly unlikely there was a Delton warship in the system. However, from the intense look on Casey’s face, it was obvious she’d heard something out of the ordinary.

“Keep a watch on communications,” Ryan ordered after a moment of thought. “Turn recorders on so we can playback any messages you pick up. If this is a Delton warship, it’s possible Fleet Commander Achlyn sent the ship to check up on his home world, and I have to admit that’s a slim possibility.”

Casey nodded. She’d made a mistake to begin with by not having the recorders on. She wouldn’t make it again.

“If that is a Delton battlecruiser, how do we go about contacting it?” asked Lieutenant Guthrie. “If we send any type of message, the Kleese are bound to detect it.”

“I don’t know,” Ryan admitted.

For the last four weeks, they’d stayed close to the assault ship. They had been listening to Delton communications, trying to pinpoint who they could turn to for help. They’d been foraging for food in the surrounding forest including killing some animals that were deemed safe to consume. Sergeant McElroy was sending teams out daily to scrounge for food.

“This might be our only chance at rescue,” spoke up Alexander. He was sitting at his tactical console listening to the conversation. “We could launch a drop ship and try to make contact. I’m willing to go.”

“It would be a one way trip,” Lauren said, looking worriedly over at the other corporal. “A drop ship isn’t designed for long term stays in space. Within forty-eight hours, you would be dead.”

“Lauren’s right,” Ryan said. “Let’s wait and see if we pick up any more messages. If we do, then we’ll make a decision about what we need to do. Autumn, can we get the assault ship back up into orbit?”

“Maybe,” she said, glancing at her flight console. “The Fold Space Drive is out, but the sublight drive is still marginally functional.”

“What do you mean, marginally?”

“Whatever is wrong with the Fold Space Drive is affecting the subspace drive also. I could probably get us up into orbit, but not much farther than that.”

Casey turned to look at Ryan, seeing the deep look of concern on his face. She knew the burden of command was weighing heavily on his shoulders.

“What about an FTL message?” asked Ryan, seeing Casey watching him.

“FTL messages are out,” Casey replied. “The problem with the drive is causing a cascade effect across other systems, including communications. I’m not certain I could even transmit a message to orbit that would be powerful enough to be received.”

Ryan let out a deep breath. They were nearly out of options. Looking at his crew in the Command Center, he could see the faint hope in their eyes that it was indeed a Delton battlecruiser. Ryan hoped they were right; if it wasn’t, then it was likely they would spend the rest of their lives here in this forested valley.

Chapter Nineteen

Colonel Wade Nelson watched anxiously as the Defender came out of Fold Space close to the Delton home world. The viewscreens cleared and everyone could feel the growing tension in the room.

“We’re at Condition One and jamming of all outbound communications has begun,” reported Ensign Snider. “All long-range FTL communications are blocked.”

“Launch drop ships,” ordered Commander Greer.

“Drop ships launching,” replied Captain Damon. On one of the viewscreens, several of the small drop ships appeared and then arrowed down toward their target on the planet.

“Receiving a Kleese challenge on the regular comm channel,” reported Ensign Snider.

“Ignore it,” Wade ordered.

Perhaps they could keep the Kleese in the dark for a few more minutes as to what was happening. There was no way they would be expecting an attack this deep in their space. Wade wanted to keep that element of surprise as long as possible.

“Beginning general broadcast to disable all Kleese explosive collars,” added Captain Damon.

The powerful signal the Defender was broadcasting would disable all collars on this side of the planet. The Argyle was on the far side and was broadcasting the same signal. Wade had been fearful that as soon as the Kleese realized this was an attack they might attempt to detonate all the collars on the planet. That would have resulted in the death of potentially thousands of Deltons, many of whom they had come to rescue.

“Fleet Commander Achlyn is sending out a general broadcast to all Delton cargo ships operating in the system,” Ensign Snider reported. He’s telling them who he is and that this is a rescue mission. He’s ordering all cargo ships to rendezvous at a set of coordinates two million kilometers from the planet.”

“The rest of the fleet is arriving,” reported Captain Damon as numerous green icons began to flood the sensor screen and then show up on the tactical display.

Wade felt relief knowing all of Fourth Fleet, as well as the rest of Fleet Commander Achlyn’s battlecruisers, were going into orbit. Now it was up to Major Winfrey and his Marines to eliminate the Kleese presence in the capital city and neutralize the conscripts at the spaceport. Wade wanted to go down himself, but he knew his rank demanded he stay on the Defender and command the operation from orbit. Major Winfrey would be able to handle everything on the ground.

-

Major Winfrey felt the drop ship shudder and the noise of their passage through the atmosphere became a steady roar.

“Just like old times,” commented Sergeant Olivia Morris.

Olivia had been a part of Major Winfrey’s British Special Forces unit and influential in the training of new recruits in the Type Four battlesuits. She had her visor up and was visibly smiling as the ride became rougher.

Dylan laughed and nodded. He raised his own visor to reply. “I had forgotten how rough landing in one of these drop ships is.”

“Just like riding a bike,” Olivia replied.

“Two minutes to target,” the pilot’s voice came over their comms.

“Visors down,” commanded Dylan as he concentrated and his visor slid down and locked. He was in his Type Four command suit. The entire platoon with him was encased in the more limber Type Fours.

“Lock and load,” ordered Sergeant Morris. “We’re coming down on the spaceport itself so be prepared to engage Kleese conscripts immediately. They’ll be wearing Type Two suits, in all likelihood.”

“Type Two’s can still do a lot of harm,” one of the privates replied.

“I want the spaceport secured as soon as possible,” Dylan said over the general comm frequency. “Try not to cause too much damage; we’ll need the spaceport for the evacuation.”

“No explosive rounds?” a corporal asked.

“If necessary,” Dylan responded. “We’ll do what we have to in order to win this battle.”

“One minute to target,” the pilot announced.

The drop ship suddenly began decelerating quickly as it came in at a sharp angle. It darted across the spaceport, coming to a stop near the center of the facility and gently setting down. As soon as the landing pads touched the blastcrete, the large hatch opened and the ramp slid down to touch the pavement.

“Everyone out!” yelled Sergeant Morris as she exited the ship, her RG rifle held at the ready.

The other Marines, including Major Winfrey, quickly followed. There were Kleese conscripts visible near some of the buildings; however, they were milling around unsure of what was going on.

“Surrender and you won’t be harmed,” called out Major Winfrey over the comm system, hoping they could hear and understand him. This far in the empire these conscripts might not be used to combat. “Your explosive collars have been deactivated so there is no reason to die for the Kleese.”

Several aimed their weapons at the Marines and were quickly blasted down. Around the spaceport other drop ships were landing, expelling Marines down their ramps. Some were in Type Four suits, but the majority were Type Threes.

A number of the conscripts, seeing all the Marines in battlesuits, turned and ran, throwing their weapons down. Others began firing at the Marines as they realized this was an actual invasion.

“Don’t let them get organized,” ordered Dylan as he fired a quick burst from his RG rifle at a conscript next to a building who was firing on them. The conscript went down and stopped moving.

For the next few minutes, there was sporadic fighting as the Marines quickly mopped up any resistance. Most of the fighting was feeble and when it finally came to a stop, they had nearly one hundred and twenty captured conscripts. Under orders from Dylan, the conscripts opened up their battlesuits and stepped out. They were a humanoid race with pale skin, large eyes, and very pronounced eyebrows. They seemed dazed and confused over what had just happened.

“There’re no Kleese here at the spaceport,” Sergeant Morris reported as she walked up to the major. “That’s why resistance was so light. There was nobody to order the conscripts to attack.”

“They must all be in the city,” responded Dylan, opening the visor on his suit. This battle could have been intense if any Kleese had been here to force the conscripts to fight to the death. “They need to be found and eliminated as soon as possible.”

“Corporal Steel is reporting he has made contact with several Deltons who work here at the spaceport,” Olivia continued. “They claim all the Kleese are in the capital building where the Delton High Council meets.”

“Then that’s our next target,” Dylan said as several hover tanks rolled down a ramp from a nearby cargo drop ship. “I want the hover tanks to proceed immediately to the capital building and ensure the Kleese can’t leave. We’ll follow.”

-

It wasn’t difficult to follow the hover tanks since a Marine in a Type Four or Three suit could move faster than an Olympic sprinter. Within twenty minutes, they had the capital building surrounded and were ready to enter.

“We may have a problem, Major,” Sergeant Morris said as she listened to several reports over her comm.

“What is it?” asked Dylan as more Marines in their battlesuits arrived.

“Most of the damn corridors in the building are too small for our battlesuits. The Deltons aren’t exactly a really tall race.”

Dylan stepped back and gazed at the large structure. Olivia was right; the average Delton was less than four feet tall. He could call down a railgun strike to destroy the building, which would eliminate the Kleese inside, but he hated the thought of destroying the Deltons’ capital building. There were probably quite a few Deltons still inside, including some government officials.

“Major,” Sergeant Morris spoke as the main doors to the building opened and a number of Deltons walked slowly out, holding their hands out before them indicating they were all unarmed. Each one wore the Kleese explosive collars. Directly behind them came ten Kleese. None were in armor.

“Hold your fire,” ordered Dylan not wanting to risk injuring the Deltons.

“The Kleese are holding collar detonators in their hands,” Olivia quickly pointed out.

Dylan used his suit vision optics to check and sure enough, each one of the Kleese was holding one of the small black detonator boxes.

“Humans,” called out the center most Kleese. “I am Minor Overlord Craed and I demand your immediate surrender.”

Dylan stepped forward, coming closer to the huddled Deltons and the Kleese. “What if we don’t?”

“Then these Deltons will die,” replied Craed harshly, raising his arm up and gesturing toward the black box in his hand. “These obedience boxes can detonate all the collars on every Delton on the planet.”

Dylan continued to walk forward with Sergeant Morris close behind. He passed through the frightened Deltons until he was standing directly in front of Craed. “There are only ten of you,” Dylan said evenly. “Our fleet is in orbit around Delton and there is no hope of your rescue. If you kill the Deltons, what would stop us from doing the same to you?”

The Kleese was silent for a long moment as if contemplating Dylan’s words.

“I have heard you humans don’t like to see the death of innocents,” Craed responded. “Even though the Deltons once were nonaligned due to their technology, they are still an inferior race. Put down your weapons and you may serve the Kleese as conscripts in our military.”

“Press your buttons,” Dylan said, reaching down and drawing his Energy Lance. The meter long metal rod hummed with power as a blue glow surrounded it. Behind him, Olivia drew hers also.

“Human vermin!” barked Craed, his multifaceted eyes glaring angrily at Dylan and Olivia. “The Deltons’ deaths are on you!” With fury, Craed brought his finger down on the small button on the control box. His eyes widened when there were no explosions. His fellow Kleese began pressing their buttons, but only silence met their efforts.

“We disarmed all the collars on this planet,” Dylan explained as he swung his lance at Craed’s head. With a hissing noise, the lance cut through Craed’s neck, severing the Kleese’s head from his body. His headless corpse fell to the pavement to lie there, twitching as dark red blood poured out.

Sergeant Morris didn’t waste any time as she waded in swinging her own Energy Lance at the nearest Kleese, cutting its body in two.

Behind her, the frightened Deltons began running, trying to get away from the carnage. It was as if two demons had been let loose in the middle of the Kleese. The Energy Lances flashed time after time and after each telling blow, a Kleese fell to the pavement. In less than a minute, it was over. The Kleese were all dead, either headless or their bodies cut in two.

Dylan stood looking around at the dead Kleese at his feet. With a deep sigh, he deactivated his Energy Lance and returned it to his waist. He saw Olivia do the same.

“Damn, that felt good,” she said as she used her armored covered foot to roll a Kleese over to ensure it was dead.

“They would have killed thousands,” Dylan spoke as more Marines ran up and began checking the Kleese to make sure they were all dead.

“We must thank you,” a Delton voice spoke behind Dylan. Turning around he saw one of the Deltons who had come out of the building standing before him.

“You can remove your collar,” Dylan said. “We’ve deactivated all of them.”

The Delton hesitantly moved his hand to his neck and, with a look of bewilderment, removed the collar and let it fall to the pavement. “How?”

“We have friends that are very familiar with Kleese obedience collars; they have shown us how to deactivate them.”

“You must have some powerful friends,” the Delton commented. “I am Serte Achlyn, a member of the Delton High Council.

“Achlyn,” Dylan said, realizing who was standing in front of him. “Your cousin, Fleet Commander Achlyn, is in orbit. He’s brought a fleet to evacuate some of your people.”

“Then this isn’t permanent?” Serte asked in disappointment.

“I wish it were,” Dylan replied. “We have come to rescue as many of your people as we can from the Kleese, then we must go before their fleet returns.”

Serte was silent for a long moment. “You must be the humans we’ve heard rumors about. The Kleese are not happy with your race.”

“I would hope not,” Dylan said, raising his visor and smiling. “Someday we will destroy their empire.”

“I hope I live to see that day,” Serte replied gravely. “Can you make arrangements for me to speak to my cousin?”

“Yes,” Dylan replied. “I’m sure he’ll be pleased to hear from you.”

-

Wade listened as the reports came in. The spaceport was secure with negligible damage, the capital city was now under Alliance control, and all Kleese were dead. High Councilor Serte Achlyn had been located and was in the process of contacting Fleet Commander Achlyn.

“A successful mission,” commented Commander Greer with a pleased look upon his face.

“No causalities and only a few minor injuries,” Wade responded. It was far less than he’d been expecting.

Now he needed to spend some more time talking to his Kleese prisoner, Betel. Wade wanted to know where the Minor Overlord thought Ryan and his Marines might have been taken. Once the evacuation of the Deltons was complete, Wade fully intended to launch several attacks against the facilities where they were possibly being held. Already, Admiral Rivers had sent eight assault ships off on spy missions to the Kleese home system as well as several other star systems, which held a large Kleese presence. Very soon, the Kleese would know the wrath of the humans for what the arachnids had done to Earth.

-

“Are you certain?” Ryan asked in disbelief. Many of the ship’s Marines had rushed to the Command Center upon hearing the rumor that an Alliance fleet was in orbit around Delton.

“Yes,” Casey answered. “It’s Fourth Fleet as well as a number of Alliance ships, particularly Delton. The communications channels are full of orders to various ships. There’s some type of massive evacuation taking place.”

Ryan turned toward Private Hopper, who was sitting at the ship’s sensors. “What are the sensors showing?”

“I’m not sure,” Jasmine replied with a trace of frustration in her voice. “The problem with our power system is playing hell with the sensors. I think those are Alliance ships. I can’t be certain, but I believe the troop assault ship Argyle is in high orbit above us.”

“It could be a trap,” warned Lieutenant Guthrie. “If the Kleese suspect we’re here on the planet somewhere, they could be broadcasting Alliance messages hoping to draw us out.”

“Casey?” asked Ryan. Autumn was right; this could indeed be a Kleese trap. The Zaltule had been pretty intent on finding them.

“I’m certain it’s Admiral Rivers and Fleet Commander Achlyn.” Casey’s eyes took on a determined glint. “I know I’m right, Ryan; you have to trust me.”

“That would explain the encrypted messages Casey heard earlier,” Lauren added. “I agree with Casey, it has to be the Alliance. They’ve come to evacuate more Deltons, just like Marken did with the rescue mission to Kivea.”

“But look how far we are into the Kleese Empire,” Sergeant McElroy spoke up, shaking his head with doubt in his eyes. “We’re only about a week’s flight from the Kleese home world. It would be suicide to launch a rescue mission this deep into Kleese space.”

“But what if is it them?” asked Private Hatterson with hope in her eyes. “We could go home.”

“We need to contact them,” Private Rios said. He knew his cousin back at Luna City had to be deeply concerned about his disappearance. His cousin was Juan’s only surviving family member from the catastrophe that overtook Earth.

Many of the others in the Command Center nodded their heads in agreement. Every day more systems on the assault ship were failing. It was only a short matter of time before the ship became too dangerous to live in.

“The question is how?” asked Ryan.

“The drop ships have communications equipment,” suggested Casey. “We could use one of them to send a message.”

“It won’t be encrypted,” Ryan replied with a deep frown. “If this is a Kleese trap they would be able to pinpoint our location rather quickly.”

“What about your command suit?” suggested Lauren. “It has a short-range communicator that can reach low orbit. It also has standard encryption hardware for secure communication.”

“It would be wise to attempt contact from a site that’s a considerable distance from the ship,” Autumn added still concerned this might be a Kleese trap.

“I can hike out of the valley,” Ryan said after a moment. It wouldn’t be too difficult in his Type Four command suit.

“I’ll go with you,” volunteered Alexander. “We don’t know what may be out there or who may respond to your distress call.”

“I think a full squad should accompany the lieutenant,” added Sergeant McElroy, standing up straight. “We can be ready within the hour.”

Ryan looked around the crowded Command Center, seeing the hope in his people’s eyes. “All right; Sergeant McElroy, Corporal Parker, we leave in an hour.”

“We’re going home,” yelled Private Cassie Littrel.

“Maybe,” responded Private Swen from her side. “Let’s just hope that is the Alliance in orbit.”

-

Four hours later Ryan stood atop a small ridge looking out across the forest. They’d trotted beneath towering trees and across several small streams to reach this point.

“The Delton’s have a beautiful planet,” commented Alexander as he gazed at the forest, which seemed to go on forever. He and Ryan were alone on top of the ridge. Sergeant McElroy had placed his squad around the lower perimeter of the ridge just in case they were attacked.

“Here goes nothing,” spoke Ryan as he activated his long-range communicator and took a deep breath. “This is Lieutenant Ryan Nelson. I am on the surface of Delton with fifty-seven other survivors. We were abducted from the nonaligned world of Diadem. We managed to escape in an assault ship from the Kleese and are in a hidden location on the surface. Please respond.”

For a full minute, Ryan waited for a response. All he could hear on his communications channel was static. He wondered if his message was getting through. Then the channel seemed to clear and a human voice spoke.

“This is Commander Anton of the troop assault ship Argyle. Please respond with your Marine service identification number.”

Ryan felt his hands start to shake at hearing Commander Anton’s voice. Trying to keep his voice as steady as possible, he gave the commander the long number, which identified him as a Marine.

“It can’t be them!” Ryan heard an astonished female voice speak in the background.

“Give me that comm!” the same voice demanded. Then a voice Ryan had never expected to hear again came over the com. “Ryan, this is Beth. Is it really you?”

Ryan nearly choked up as he responded. “Yes, Beth; it’s me. Is my brother around?”

“You damn right he is,” Beth answered in a joyful voice. “Give me a minute and you can speak to him.”

Over the comm channel, Ryan heard Beth arguing with the ship’s Communications officer. “I don’t give a damn what your orders are about communications. That’s Colonel Wade Nelson’s brother and I want a secure line to the Defender, now!”

-

On the Defender, Wade hurried into the Command Center wondering why he had been summoned. He’d been interrogating Betel when the summons had come for him to report. Stepping inside he saw huge grins on everyone’s faces.

“What’s going on?” he asked, feeling confused.

“We have a message from the surface being relayed by the Argyle for you,” spoke Commander Greer with a wide smile on his face.

“Did we find more Kleese?” Wade asked as he stepped up to Communications and nodded at the Communications officer. “This is Colonel Wade Nelson; who am I speaking to?”

“Hello, big brother,” a familiar voice spoke over the comm channel.

“Ryan,” whispered Wade, instantly recognizing his brother’s voice.

“Yes,” Ryan replied. “I don’t suppose you could send some shuttles down to pick us up? We’re sort of hungry.”

Wade could scarcely talk, he was overwhelmed with emotion. “How?” he managed to croak out.

“I’ll explain when I see you,” Ryan answered. “It’s a long story.”

“How many are with you?” Wade managed to ask, taking a deep steadying breath.

“Only fifty-eight,” Ryan answered with great sadness in his voice. “We lost Colonel Stratford, Major Stevens, Lieutenant Felton, and a lot of others. But we made the Kleese pay!”

“I’ll be down shortly,” answered Wade, standing up straight and looking over at Commander Greer, who nodded. “We’ll send some ships down to pick you up. Ryan, it’s good to hear your voice.”

“See you shortly, big brother,” Ryan answered as the line went silent.

Wade turned around as the Command Center erupted in loud cheers and clapping. He felt tears in his eyes and didn’t know what to say. However, the joyous looks on the crew’s faces said everything. Their missing Marines were coming home.

Chapter Twenty

Ryan watched as several large shuttles set down in the clearing in the center of the green valley where they’d hidden the assault ship. Casey was standing at his side, holding his hand with a happy look upon her face. It all still seemed so unreal. What were the odds of an Alliance fleet showing up at Delton where Ryan and his Marines had taken up refuge? He’d spent some time thinking it over. It made sense that once they escaped from the Kleese they’d seek a safe haven on a world where they were familiar with its inhabitants. It also made sense that Fleet Commander Achlyn would want to rescue more of his people. Ryan was just relieved everything had worked out.

“Now what?” asked Casey. The other Marines were coming out of the assault ship excited about going home. Even Lauren and Alexander were walking side by side with big grins on their faces.

“Look,” Ryan said, pointing toward one of the nearby shuttles and the man and woman coming down the ramp under the escort of several Marines in Type Four battlesuits.

“Wade and Beth!” gasped Casey with wide eyes. She hadn’t been expecting them to come down to the surface. Even more surprising, Beth was wearing a colonel’s uniform. There’d definitely been some changes while they were gone.

“Let’s go meet them,” Ryan said as he started walking toward his brother and Beth, almost dragging Casey along.

Casey had to walk a little faster to keep up with Ryan. She knew he was excited about seeing his brother and Beth after so long.

Moments later Ryan was standing in front of the two colonels.

“Ryan, Casey, it’s good to see the two of you,” Beth said, stepping forward and giving both of them a long welcoming hug. “We thought we’d lost you.”

“At least now I don’t have to lead an assault against Kleese facilities in their home system looking for you,” Wade said with a grin.

“The Kleese home system?” Ryan said, his face turning pale. “You’re joking, right?”

“No Ryan, he’s not,” Beth answered somberly. “That’s why we brought the Defender and the Argyle, and why I joined this mission. If it had been necessary, we were fully prepared to go into the Kleese home system to find you.”

Ryan didn’t know what to say upon learning the risks his brother and Beth had been prepared to take to find him. It made him realize even more just how important family could be. He looked over at Casey, realizing as a clone, she’d never had this type of experience. It saddened him to know what she was missing.

Wade watched as the Marines, who had escaped with Ryan filed past on their way to the waiting shuttles. Most had relieved smiles on their faces; others were very much aware of those who were missing. Over two-thirds of the Marines who’d been abducted had been lost on the exploration cruiser and would not be going home.

“How are Mom and Dad?”

“Worried,” Wade answered. He felt vulnerable standing out in the open like this without his battlesuit on. “I promised them when we left we would bring you back.”

Ryan felt guilty at the pain he’d caused his parents. He knew he’d have to make it up to them when they returned to Vesta.

“How did you escape the Kleese exploration ship?” Beth asked. She knew it had to have been difficult. “Wade found the letter you hid in your quarters at the trading station.”

“I didn’t think we would ever see home again,” admitted Ryan, taking Casey’s hand firmly in his. “If not for Major Stevens, we never would’ve gotten away from the Kleese.”

“Between Major Stevens and you,” Casey corrected. “You’re the one who started our escape.”

“Yes,” Ryan responded. “But it was Major Stevens who destroyed the exploration cruiser.”

“How did he do that?” Wade asked. He knew how difficult one of those ships was to destroy. He’d been greatly saddened to hear of the major’s death as well as the others.

As they walked back to the waiting shuttles, Ryan explained to Wade and Beth what happened on the exploration ship and how Major Stevens had sacrificed himself and his Marines to ensure Ryan and the others could escape.

“Sounds like Major Stevens,” Wade said as they came to a stop in front of the shuttles. “He didn’t have any family other than Lieutenant Griffith, who is based on the Moon. The two were very close. They even served together down on Earth at the Jornada survival camp.”

“Tent City,” Ryan responded. “I didn’t know Major Stevens was there.”

“He died a hero,” said Casey with tears in her eyes. “All of them did.”

“They will be remembered as such,” promised Beth, reaching out and wiping the tears away from beneath Casey’s eyes. Looking at Ryan and Casey, Beth couldn’t help but be reminded of what she and Wade gone through when they’d been Kleese captives. She strongly suspected it had drawn the two even closer together.

“Let’s get up to the Defender,” suggested Wade. “I think I can arrange for a special welcome home meal for all of you.”

“The food sounds great,” Ryan said with a smile. “My people will enjoy it. We’re not certain what we’ve been eating for quite some time.”

The four walked up the ramp and into the waiting shuttle. It was time to go home.

-

A frantic week passed as tens of thousands of Deltons were found and whisked up to waiting passenger liners and converted cargo ships. The spaceports around the planet were busy as shuttles landed, were loaded, and blasted back up into orbit to rendezvous with the waiting rescue ships. As soon as the evacuees came on board, they were processed and put into cryosleep. In orbit around Delton, the warships of the fleet stood guard, expecting a Kleese ship to drop in on them at any moment. So far, the space lanes had been silent.

Aboard the Delton flagship, Fleet Commander Achlyn looked at his cousin who’d just recently arrived. “I’m pleased to see you, Serte,” Fleet Commander Achlyn said. “I was fearful you might not have survived the Kleese occupation of our world.”

“I’m pleased to see your fleet survived and was able to return to us,” Serte replied. “The Kleese occupation of our world has been a frightening thing. Many Deltons, some you knew, lost their lives to the Kleese collars of obedience.”

“We brought some powerful allies to help in the evacuation,” Fleet Commander Achlyn replied. “We have made some new friends in this human led Alliance.”

“How many of our people are you going to be able to rescue?” Serte looked around the busy Command Center. This was the first time he’d ever been on a warship.

“A little over four hundred thousand,” replied the fleet commander.

“So few,” responded Serte sadly. “What will become of those that remain on our world?”

“They’ll become slaves of the Kleese when they finally return,” Second Commander Baylith answered. “We wish we could rescue more, but we only have so many ships.”

“We have a new home in the humans’ home system,” added Fleet Commander Achlyn. “It will be a place to rebuild our civilization and become part of the human led Alliance that is trying to stop the Kleese.”

“The Kleese cannot be stopped,” responded Serte, shaking his head. “They’re too powerful and their empire too large.”

“The humans and their allies can stop them,” the fleet commander replied. “I’ve seen it with my own eyes. I have promised to fight alongside them until the Kleese are defeated.”

“So, we’re to embrace our embattled past and become part of this Alliance?” Serte let out a deep breath. What his cousin suggested was contrary to how most Deltons lived.

“If we want to survive.”

“What do you want of me?” Serte asked with a heavy sigh.

“To lead our people,” Fleet Commander Achlyn replied. “I can fight, but leading tens of thousands of civilians is difficult.”

Serte closed his eyes and then slowly opened them. For hundreds of years, the Deltons had been at peace. The Kleese had changed all of that with their unprovoked attack. Perhaps the fleet commander was right. In order to survive they would have to go back to the harsher ways of the past.

“I will come with you,” Serte said, reaching a decision. “Our civilization must survive and it seems you offer the only hope for that.”

“Someday, we will defeat the Kleese and drive them from our world,” promised Fleet Commander Achlyn. “Our world will be free.”

Serte nodded. He trusted the fleet commander. But deep in his heart, he greatly feared he would never return to Delton again.

-

Another week passed and the fleet was once more safely in the deep protective atmosphere of the gas giant planet. Four hundred and twenty-six thousand Deltons had been evacuated and were ready for transport back to the solar system. Not once during the evacuation had a Kleese ship put in an appearance.

Admiral Rivers was holding a meeting on board the Independence. They were trying to decide if they should split up the fleet. The evacuated civilians needed to be protected, but he also needed to hit the Kleese hard while the opportunity was here. It might be a very long time before another Alliance fleet came this deep into Kleese space.

“The assault ships we sent to scan the Kleese systems should be reporting back in the next few days,” Rivers informed the gathered officers. “As soon as they have all returned, we’ll evaluate the information they’ve gathered and choose targets to attack.”

“I can’t believe you’re contemplating attacking the Kleese systems,” High Councilor Serte said in disbelief. He’d met a number of humans and he was still amazed at how confident they were in being able to take on the Kleese.

“We have explained to you what the Kleese did to Earth,” Fleet Commander Achlyn responded. “Is it not time for someone to do the same to them?”

“I trust in your judgment,” Serte said. “However, once this attack is over won’t the Kleese be out to destroy this fleet? They will search for it all the way back to your Alliance. They will use every vessel they possess. What will happen if they discover our passenger liners and cargo ships? We could lose all of them.”

“That’s why I want to split the fleet,” Admiral Rivers responded. “Fleet Commander Achlyn, you have rescued many of your people; it’s our duty as military officers to protect civilians. I want to detach your battlecruisers from Fourth Fleet and have you escort the civilians back to the solar system.”

“I will not leave you,” stated Fleet Commander Achlyn firmly.

“I propose a compromise, then,” suggested Marken, who was sitting to the admiral’s right. “Send only part of Fleet Commander Achlyn’s battlecruisers with the civilian ships. If they follow the route we took to get here, they should be relatively safe.”

Admiral Rivers was silent for a long moment and then he spoke. “Split your fleet. Twenty battlecruisers will go as escorts and the rest will remain here.”

“Agreed,” Fleet Commander Achlyn said, nodding his head in approval.

“The civilian fleet will leave tomorrow,” Rivers continued. “That way they’ll be able to put considerable distance between us and them before we launch our attacks.”

Colonel Greerman knocked on the door and then, opening it, stepped into the briefing room. “Admiral, two of the assault ships have returned.”

Wade looked over at Beth. “So it begins,” he said softly.

-

After all the assault ships returned, Fourth Fleet moved closer to the Kleese home system in preparation for their attack. The information gathered by the ships had been both informative and alarming.

“This is the plan as I perceive it,” Admiral Rivers spoke to the gathered officers as well as Marken. The civilian fleet had been underway for a little over a week and he felt comfortable executing his battle plan knowing it wouldn’t put them in immediate danger.

“In the Kleese home system there are six large shipyards, more massive than any structures we’ve previously encountered,” Admiral Rivers began. “From the location of Zaltule battlecruisers we’re fairly certain four of those are dedicated to producing warships for the warrior caste. Marken, I believe you can give us more detailed information.”

Marken stood up and gazed around the large oak conference table. He and his fellow Kiveans had spent hours analyzing the data brought back. “The Kleese home system consists of twelve planets and a large number of moons. The planets orbit a small K Class star, which is slightly cooler than Earth’s. The Kleese originated on the fourth planet. They fought so many wars amongst themselves in the early years of their civilization that the planet is nearly void of all life. Even the Kleese have forsaken their home world to live elsewhere. There is only one inhabited city on the planet, and it is from that city they rule their empire.”

“So where do the Kleese actually live?” asked Major Winfrey, cocking his eyebrow.

“There are three nearby star systems where the majority of their population resides,” Admiral Rivers informed them. “Those systems were also scanned by our assault ships.”

“From the scans taken by the two assault ships assigned to the Kleese home system, we have become greatly concerned,” Marken said. “There are twenty-eight hundred regular Zaltule battlecruisers in the system.”

That announcement created a mumbling amongst the officers at the thought of what they were going to be facing. They would be vastly outnumbered. They looked at one another with growing apprehension on their faces.

“That’s not the worst of it,” Marken continued, his narrow eyes showing great concern. “Around the four Zaltule shipyards are another forty-six hundred battlecruisers slightly larger than a regular Zaltule warship. We believe these are new constructions and possibly based on stolen technology from some of the nonaligned worlds they’ve recently conquered.”

“That’s nearly seven thousand warships,” spoke up Commander Andrea Lucian of the heavy battlecruiser Union. “How can we even get in close enough to hit our targets?” This was sounding more and more like a suicide mission.

“The Kleese are a very arrogant race,” Marken answered. “They consider all other races as inferior or vermin. The thought of their actual home system being attacked is something they cannot comprehend. We will have the element of surprise on our side and their defenses will be down.”

On the main viewscreen a massive structure appeared. Around it, hundreds of Zaltule battlecruisers were in orbit, with many more docked to it.

“This is one of the Zaltule shipyards,” Marken explained as he stepped over to the screen. “It’s nearly two hundred kilometers across.”

“That’s bigger than a trading station,” commented Commander Greer as he gazed at the massive structure in amazement.

“It may be large, but it’s unarmed,” Marken said as his long slim fingers pointed to several key areas. “These small bulges are where the shipyard’s main fusion reactors are housed. Those will be our primary targets. If we can destroy them, we can cause a cascade reaction that will spread through the entire shipyard, destroying it.”

“Surely the Kleese will detect our approach in Fold Space,” said Commander William Davis of the heavy battlecruiser Britannica. He knew back at Centerpoint they had that capability; the Kleese probably did too. “They’re bound to have sensors on those stations that will detect the presence of any Fold Space Field. They’ll be waiting for us when we drop out of Fold Space.”

“We’re certain they’ll detect us,” agreed Admiral Rivers. “But there are so many Zaltule ships coming and going, more than likely they’ll think it’s their own ships that are inbound. They won’t be expecting an attack.”

“So what are our targets?” asked Fleet Commander Achlyn. “The Kleese must be hurt as much as possible for what they have done to our worlds. We may never get this opportunity again.”

“Two of the Zaltule shipyards, the capital city on their home planet, several large mining operations we have detected, as well as a facility on one of the moons of the eighth planet,” Admiral Rivers responded.

“What of the facility on this moon?” asked Beth. “What is it?”

“We think it’s where the Zaltule slept for all this time,” Marken explained. His light red skin seemed to grow darker. “It may also contain a number of the Zaltule Queens, possibly still in stasis.”

This sent a chill through Beth as she looked over at Wade.

“Queens?” spoke up Fleet Commander Achlyn, his eyes narrowing sharply. “They must be destroyed!”

“This will be a Marine operation, the Defender and Argyle will go into orbit and take the facility,” announced Admiral Rivers. “This is primarily a fact gathering mission and we want to learn everything we can about the Zaltule. Once we have what we want, the facility will be destroyed with an antimatter warhead the Marines will take with them.”

“What about the Zaltule ships in orbit?” asked Commander Greer. “They will have to be taken out.”

“All Pradelian and Delton battlecruisers will accompany the Defender and Argyle on this mission,” Admiral Rivers explained. “This is a high priority target and must be taken out. You will have limited time as we estimate the battle in the system can last no longer than an hour before the Kleese force us to withdraw. Once the fighting starts we’ll begin jamming all communications; even our own long-range transmissions will probably be affected.”

“What about the other Kleese systems?” asked Commander Lucian.

“For now, we don’t have the forces to attack them,” Admiral Rivers responded. “There are powerful Zaltule fleet units in the systems as well as additional shipyards. One of the systems contains the construction facility for the trading stations.”

“Seems as if that would be a priority target,” suggested Commander Lucian.

“It is, but we don’t have the forces to take it out.”

“Keep in mind it takes years to build a trading station,” Marken added. “While a tempting target, it holds less strategic value than the shipyards.”

“How soon before we launch our attack?” asked Wade. He’d been listening to the briefing knowing his Marines were going to have a tough battle on their hands. The Zaltule facility they were going to hit would most likely be heavily defended. He wanted to talk to Marken about it in much more detail. He also wondered if Betel knew anything.

“We don’t dare wait any longer than twenty-four hours,” Admiral Rivers answered. “Every hour we delay increases the likelihood we’ll be detected.”

-

After the meeting, Wade, Beth, and Marken walked back together to the flight bay.

“How important is this underground facility?” Wade asked his Kivean friend.

“The information stored inside would be invaluable,” Marken replied. “It could give us some insights as to how to defeat the Kleese, and particularly the Zaltule.”

“It will be heavily defended,” Wade said with a frown. “We’ll have to fight our way in and then probably fight our way back out. Do we know anything about the facility that might be of help?”

“Not really,” Marken admitted. “We know from the scans it’s deep beneath the moon’s surface and heavily guarded. The only way to destroy it is from within.”

Wade thought about Marken’s words. This was going to be extremely difficult considering the time restraints they were under.

“What does Harnett think about being so close to the Kleese home world?” asked Beth, knowing Marken’s life mate was highly frightened about being near a Kleese.

“She’s coping,” answered Marken. “For now she’s occupied with treating the Marines who were with Ryan. They’re all aboard the Micene and seem to be coming along well. Some have malnutrition and a few are still having a hard time sleeping, but she feels confident they will all be able to return to duty soon.”

“That’s good news,” Beth said.

She would like to go over to the Kivean medical ship to speak to Ryan and Casey, but she knew with the impending mission that wasn’t likely. She reached out and took Wade’s hand, hoping they would get through this safely. They’d risked so much to come find Ryan. She hoped they weren’t about to throw all of that away.

Chapter Twenty-One

Supreme Military Overlord Harmock was standing upon the Command Pedestal of his flagship making plans for the upcoming attack on the humans and their pitiful Alliance. Four thousand of the new battlecruisers would be going as well as three thousand of the regular Zaltule battlecruisers. He’d decided to go ahead and launch his attack though many more of the new ships were still under construction. He would crush the Alliance worlds first and then go on to eradicate the humans in their star system. Once that was complete, the fleet would return to Sectors Seven and Eight for repairs before setting out to conquer the remaining nonaligned worlds in the empire.

If Harmock’s plans were successful, within a year all worlds in the boundaries of the empire would be under Kleese control. The Zaltule would control all the important assets in the empire and the new Queens would be ready to breed. Once the first hatchings from the new Queens matured, the Zaltule would begin to rapidly expand the empire across the galaxy.

The flagship was currently in orbit over the sixth planet of the home system where one of the large shipyards was located. Harmock was considering transferring to one of the newer and more powerful battlecruisers once some special modifications were finished. Observing the main viewscreen, he noticed the space around the shipyard was full of activity. Cargo ships were constantly coming and going delivering the necessary materials to keep the shipyard functioning. Numerous battlecruisers were docked to the station and its construction bays were operating constantly, building additional battlecruisers as well as updating the older ones.

“There have still been no signs of former Supreme Overlord Xatul and those who have fled with him,” reported Minor Overlord Gareth. “The search has thus far come up empty. We have twelve hundred Zaltule battlecruisers engaged in the search as well as three hundred and twenty exploration cruisers.”

“I want all the star systems between the home world and the former Strell Empire searched,” Harmock responded coldly. “I don’t care how long it takes, I want those Overlords found. Have all the trading stations in that region of space use their assault ships for the search. Xatul and the other Overlords could be hiding anywhere.”

At that moment, Dalock turned about from his Communications console with a confused upon his face. “Overlord, we have lost communication with most of the ships and outposts in the system. I have checked our comm system and it’s functioning normally. I still have contact with the shipyard and the nearby ships.”

Harmock gaze sharpened as he stared at Dalock and then refocused his attention on the Zaltule standing in front of the massive sensor console. “Jalridd, what do your sensors show?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary. We have a number of fleets inbound that are still in Fold Space that should be arriving shortly. I have no explanation for the sudden loss of communications.”

“How shortly will these fleets be arriving?” demanded Harmock with growing suspicion.

“Now,” Jalridd replied as his screen suddenly began showing red threat icons. Instantly, alarms began sounding and the Warrior’s Fire rocked violently as red lights began to glow on the damage control console.

“We’re under attack!” Harmock spoke, his voice rising in anger. “Raise our energy shield!”

“Impossible!” responded Gareth as he rushed over to his command console. “No one would dare attack us here in our home system.”

“One race would,” snarled Harmock, realizing once again he’d underestimated the humans.

-

“Close on the shipyard,” ordered Admiral Rivers as the Independence fired a broadside from her pulse fusion turrets as well as the particle beam cannons. On the main viewscreen, white energy beams and bright blue particle beams smashed into a nearby Zaltule battlecruiser, annihilating it in a fiery blaze of light. “Fire antimatter missiles. Target is the shipyard.” The shipyard was just barely in range of the missiles but with the element of surprise on their side, they just might get in a few lucky strikes.

From the Independence and the other three battlecruisers in Fourth Fleet forty-eight sublight missiles left their tubes, quickly flying the twelve thousand kilometers, which separated the fleet from the unarmed shipyard. Kleese defensive systems on the battlecruisers were rapidly coming online and over half of the missiles were intercepted and destroyed. The others continued and broke apart, allowing the six small twenty-megaton warheads inside to impact the armored hull of the massive station. Brilliant suns lit up space as armor melted and was turned into plasma. Huge sections of the hull were blown away into space. Twelve of the station’s large fusion reactors were destroyed, releasing over one thousand megatons of uncontrolled energy. In a glaring explosion, the station came apart as it shattered into tens of thousands of bright and burning pieces.

“We got it!” shouted Colonel Greerman, gazing in rapt fascination at the glowing pieces on the main viewscreen.

“Target the larger surviving sections,” ordered Rivers, wanting to ensure the Kleese couldn’t rebuild the shipyard. “Two salvos and then refocus our weapons on the Zaltule battlecruisers.”

Colonel Greerman tore his eyes from the screen and quickly passed the orders on to Tactical.

“Kleese warships are opening fire,” warned Colonel Greerman as the Independence shook violently. Their brief element of surprise was over and now the Zaltule were responding to the presence of human ships. “That was an antimatter strike against our energy shield. I also show their energy screens are coming up.”

“Zaltule ships are starting to maneuver toward us,” reported Lieutenant Hertz, her sensor screens showing the growing danger.

“Continue to fire on the station sections,” commanded Rivers in a determined voice. It would be a few moments before the Kleese could become organized, and he was going to take advantage of those moments to finish the destruction of the largest surviving pieces of the shipyard.

-

Harmock felt stunned as one of his valuable shipyards was blasted apart by the human attack. “How many human ships are there?” he demanded, his triangular shaped head focusing on Jalridd and his sensor console.

“Twenty-four,” Jalridd responded. “The humans are jamming our communications and long-range sensors.”

“They tricked us,” uttered Gareth. “They came in acting as one of our fleets and then dropped out of Fold Space within weapons range of the shipyard.”

“It will be the last thing they do,” snapped Harmock, feeling furious at the humans. It had taken years to build that shipyard, and it would not be easy to replace. Not only that, but the ships docked to it as well as those in the construction bays had been destroyed as well. “Order all ships to close and destroy them!”

-

Fleet Commander Achlyn cringed inwardly as another of his battlecruisers exploded in a fiery death.

“Cruiser 772-436 is down,” reported the sensor operator.

“We’ve lost two battlecruisers and three Pradelian vessels,” reported Second Commander Baylith. “There are eight remaining Zaltule cruisers in orbit of the moon.” Fourteen others had already been destroyed in the fleet’s opening salvo. Energy weapons and antimatter missiles were extremely deadly to ships with their energy shields down.

“Bring in the assault ships,” Achlyn ordered as his flagship rocked from incoming fire. “We’ll add their firepower to ours.” This battle needed to be over quickly so the humans could land their Marines.

-

The assault ships, which had been hanging back from the fighting along with the Defender and Argyle, accelerated rapidly toward the fighting. In moments, they were heavily engaged against the Zaltule cruisers. The assault ships closed the range, bringing all of their weapons to bear. Their most effective weapon was the single particle beam cannon each was equipped with.

-

“Take us in,” ordered Commander Greer as he watched the battle on the ship’s viewscreens. “The clock is ticking and we need to launch our attack. The energy screens on the Defender and the Argyle are the heaviest in the fleet and should protect us. We also have our own weapons to fire back with if necessary.”

“Weapons are ready to fire,” confirmed Captain Damon. She was anxious to get this attack over with so they could vacate the Kleese home system. She had a nagging feeling this was not going to be a safe place to be shortly.

-

Wade was in a drop ship and could feel the Defender taking a beating. Commander Greer had taken both troop assault ships into low orbit around the frozen moon.

“Drop in two minutes,” a voice called out over his suit comm channel.

“Everyone close up,” Wade ordered as he lowered his visor and checked his RG rifle. “All weapons are authorized to take out Kleese resistance.”

The drop ship shook violently for a moment and then settled back down. The Marines looked at one another uneasily. At the moment, they were along for the ride and could do nothing about the fighting going on in space.

“Must have been an antimatter hit to the energy shield,” commented Sergeant Kyle Patterson. “They need to knock out all of those Zaltule ships before we exit the Defender. I don’t want to be turned into plasma.”

“Drop in one minute.”

Wade hoped they made it to the surface. The drop ships had no energy shields and would be easy targets for the Kleese cruisers. He well understood Sergeant Patterson’s concerns.

“Another day in the Marines,” spoke Corporal Lisa Hayes as the ship shook violently one more time.

“Drop!”

Wade felt the drop ship’s engines fire up and suddenly they were out in open space. The ship shook and then steadied. Wade hoped the other drop ships made it. He knew Beth would be on one dropping from the Argyle.

-

In space, two more Kleese battlecruisers had been blown apart and the Alliance fleet was closing on the remaining ones. Fleet Commander Achlyn wanted to force the Kleese to concentrate on him and not the vulnerable drop ships now darting toward the surface.

“We’ve lost fourteen assault ships,” announced the ship’s sensor operator.

“One of the Kleese ships is targeting the drop ships!” warned Baylith as three of the small defenseless ships suddenly burst apart in fiery flame on one of the viewscreens.

“Hit that battlecruiser with everything we have!” growled Achlyn.

“The Defender and Argyle are repositioning themselves to cover the remaining drop ships,” Baylith informed the fleet commander. On the tactical screen, two large green icons adjusted their positions slightly, putting themselves between the vulnerable drop ships and the attacking Zaltule battlecruiser.

Defensive fire suddenly erupted from the surface and two more drops ships were blown apart. Almost instantly, the Defender and Argyle replied, targeting the weapon emplacements with their railguns, which were designed for planetary bombardments. On the surface of the moon, twenty points of light suddenly appeared as the deadly railgun rounds eliminated their targets, carving deep glowing holes into the icy surface.

On the main viewscreen, Achlyn watched as the fleet’s powerful energy beams pummeled the screens of the remaining Zaltule battlecruisers while the remaining assault ships were at pointblank range blasting away with their particle beam weapons. One of the Kleese ships lost its energy shield and an antimatter missile turned it quickly into glowing plasma. Another had a particle beam break through, blasting a huge glowing hole in the side of the ship and cutting off some of its internal power. Moments later two antimatter missiles slipped through the weakening shield and two glowing suns appeared.

“Battlecruiser 239-998 has been lost,” the sensor operator reported sadly. “Another Pradelian battlecruiser is heavily damaged. Four more assault ships have been destroyed.”

On the primary viewscreen, Delton energy beams slammed into the main part of a Zaltule battlecruiser, setting off massive explosions and hurling glowing debris into space. A moment later, a pair of bright blue particle beams struck the floundering cruiser, blasting it in two. The separate pieces began drifting apart only to be annihilated by an antimatter missile strike.

Two minutes later and the final Zaltule battlecruiser died under the combined fire of the remaining Alliance ships. Only a scattering debris field and glowing gases indicated where it had been.

“Take us into stationary orbit above the Kleese facility,” ordered Achlyn, drawing in a deep breath. “Instruct all ships to conduct what repairs they can. As soon as the human Marines return from the surface we’ll be leaving.”

“Do they have enough time to complete their mission?” asked Baylith, concerned about the time constraint that had been placed on the Marines.

“I hope so,” Achlyn replied with an anxious look in his eyes. “If the Kleese appear with a large fleet, we’ll have no choice but to withdraw and leave them.”

Baylith nodded. That had been the orders from both Admiral Rivers and Colonel Nelson.

-

Commander William Davis shook his head as the Britannica shook from the intense fire impacting its energy screen. The heavy battlecruiser and the fifteen Nalton warships with her were making an attack run on the Kleese home planet with the goal of taking out the large city on its surface.

“We can’t handle much more of this,” reported Captain Julius Rose. “Energy shield is down to 74 percent!”

“We just lost another of the Nalton battlecruisers,” reported the ensign at the sensor console. “Enemy weapons fire is intensifying.”

“There’s too many of them between us and the planet,” Rose said, shaking his head. “We’ll never be able to hit their capital city. They’re knocking down every missile we fire.”

On a Command Center viewscreen, one of the Nalton battlecruisers was under heavy attack. Even as they watched, its energy shield failed and half a dozen Kleese antimatter missiles turned the ship into a burning sun.

The Britannica shook violently and alarms began sounding on the damage control console. Several amber and red lights began to glow.

“There is damage to the hull at section fourteen, bulkhead seven,” the damage control officer reported. “We have six compartments in vacuum and we’re streaming air. Emergency bulkheads have engaged.”

“We need to withdraw,” spoke Captain Rose grimly. “We can’t get to their city.”

“Yes, we can,” Commander Davis said, his voice suddenly calm. “I want all power applied to the energy shield and our antimatter missiles set to detonate upon impact.”

“What are you doing?” asked Captain Rose in alarm.

“Remember what the Kleese did to Mars Central? I’m going to do the same to them.”

Captain Rose froze at that announcement. For a brief moment, he considered taking control of the ship from Commander Davis and fleeing. Then he remembered the hundreds of thousands of dead in the Kleese attack on Mars Central and the billions upon Earth. This was their opportunity to extract revenge for those deaths. Letting out a deep breath he nodded. “I’ll pass on the orders.”

“Communications,” spoke Commander Davis. “Order the Nalton battlecruisers to withdraw and jump into Fold Space. They’re to go to the fleet rendezvous coordinates.”

“Message sent,” replied the Communications officer, his face pale with fear.

“Warheads are set,” reported Captain Rose as he received a confirmation from Tactical.

“Helm, set a course for the Kleese city, divert all power to the energy shield and the sublight drive.”

“Our energy shield might not hold up under the stress of passing through the planet’s atmosphere at that speed,” warned Captain Rose.

“It’ll hold long enough,” replied Commander Davis evenly. “Helm, implement maneuver and try not to collide with any Kleese warships. We have a meeting with some Kleese.” He let out a deep breath. His wife had died at Mars Central, now it was time to extract revenge for her death and so many others.

-

The heavy battlecruiser Britannica suddenly accelerated, racing through the stunned Kleese fleet. The Zaltule attempted to turn their weapons upon the human vessel and a few even managed to score telling hits, inflicting more damage. The ship was traveling so fast it soon entered the atmosphere and a huge red glow surrounded the ship’s energy shield. From the surface, it looked as if a giant fireball was hurtling down toward the planet.

The Zaltule realized what the human ship intended and suddenly antimatter missiles began going off all around it with complete disregard to any damage they might cause the city below. The Kleese knew if the ship struck the surface, the city would be annihilated anyway.

Ten kilometers above the surface of the Kleese capital, the Britannica exploded as a Kleese antimatter missile finally penetrated the weakening energy shield blowing the ship into thousands of glowing pieces. That wreckage began falling toward the city, including seven surviving warheads set to explode on impact with the ground.

Moments later, a major portion of the Kleese capital vanished as seven glowing suns appeared, annihilating everything within a thirty-mile radius.

In space, the fleeing Nalton battlecruisers recorded everything. They were stunned at how willing the humans had been to sacrifice their lives to destroy their enemy. It made them realize the sacrifices that would have to be made to defeat the Kleese. It was a lesson they would take home with them and to their people.

-

At the ice moon circling the eighth planet, the drop ship came down jarringly and then the hatch opened and the metal ramp slid down.

“Out!” yelled Sergeant Patterson as he urged the Marines to exit the ship.

Hustling outside they began moving toward their target. They had landed on a small blastcrete landing field; a number of windowless buildings were nearby. The moon was dark, only dimly lit by the system’s sun, and what looked like black ice covered everything.

Wade came down the ramp and looked around. Other drop ships were coming in for landings as Marines swarmed out of others that had already touched down.

“We need to take those buildings,” Wade said over the general comm channel. “The facility we’re seeking is deep underground and the entrance should be there somewhere. With the fighting above, they’re bound to be expecting us. This won’t be a cakewalk.”

“We’re down,” Beth announced over the comm. Her force had landed on the far side of the complex.

“Moving in toward the complex,” added Major Winfrey.

“Same here,” Major Jeffries reported.

“Let’s make this quick,” Wade ordered, cradling his RG rifle in his armor covered arms. “We don’t have a lot of time.”

As the Marines approached the buildings, dozens of Kleese in Type Three battlesuits suddenly appeared. Explosive rounds began going off around the advancing Marines, blasting gaping holes in their ranks. On Wade’s HUD, a number of green icons suddenly turned amber and red. An explosion near him nearly knocked him off his feet.

“Zaltule!” called out Major Jeffries. “Returning fire!”

For the next several minutes a fierce firefight erupted as the Marines steadily advanced, pushing the Zaltule back. Zaltule fell as their suits were struck by armor piercing rounds from the Marines’ RG rifles or torn apart from explosive rounds. The environment on the cold moon was so harsh that if a suit was torn open, the exposed Marine or Zaltule died almost immediately.

“We’re at the first building,” Major Winfrey reported, sounding out of breath. His Marines in their Type Four suits had pushed ahead and were rapidly eliminating the last few remaining Zaltule. Several had jumped to the top of the buildings using the antigravity plates in their armored boots to give them a better field of fire.

“Find the entrance to the underground section,” ordered Wade as he surveyed the area. Some of the Zaltule were still twitching. “Make sure all of those Zaltule are dead.”

It didn’t take them long before they found the entrance and the first Marines entered. They soon found themselves in a massive underground landing bay nearly empty other than a few small shuttles.

“Zaltule!” yelled Sergeant Patterson as dozens of the arachnids clad in battlesuits swarmed toward the Marines from several open hatches. Before Sergeant Patterson could say another word, he was cut down by RG fire. The sergeant dropped to the floor and lay unmoving.

Wade winced when he saw the sergeant’s icon turn red. Patterson had been with him from the very beginning. He had been a member of Wade’s original platoon back when they had been in training on Earth.

“Cut them down,” ordered Corporal Hays in a cold voice, feeling stunned by the sudden loss of the sergeant. She raised her RG rifle and began firing short bursts at the approaching Kleese. More Marines were now entering the bay and adding their firepower to the ones already there.

Several explosive rounds went off and one of the shuttles suddenly exploded, killing several Marines who had been too close to it. The two sides continued to fire as battlesuits on both sides fell to the blastcrete as their occupants were killed. Unlike Kleese conscripts, the Zaltule were highly trained fighters and had little fear of death during combat. The landing bay became filled with smoke and the sound of weapons fire. The Kleese were trying to push the Marines back out of the bay and the humans were stubbornly refusing to be budged.

With a final push, the Marines overran the Zaltule, taking them out at close range. The fighting came to an end as the last Kleese fell to lay twitching on the blastcrete. But it had been costly, with another eighteen Marines losing their lives in the fighting.

“We need to clear the corridors behind those hatches,” ordered Major Winfrey as he stepped over a dead Kleese. “We must find a way deeper into the complex.”

Over the next ten minutes, they slowly fought through several short corridors and airlocks, eventually arriving at a transit station. Behind them, they left corridors full of dead Zaltule and fallen Marines. The Zaltule never made any effort to retreat; they fought to the death, taking as many Marines as possible with them.

“This tram must lead to the Zaltule stasis chambers,” spoke Major Winfrey as he gazed around the transit station. His battlesuit was covered in Zaltule blood. “We’re going to be limited on how many Marines we can take.”

Wade nodded. There were two large trams there; each could accommodate about one platoon of Marines. “Major Winfrey, I want one platoon of Type Fours in the first tram. Major Jeffries, I want one platoon of Type Threes in the second. “Beth, you’ll stay here and secure this part of the complex. There are probably more Zaltule around, so be cautious.”

The Marines quickly boarded the trams. Wade climbed into the first one with Major Winfrey. Moments later, the tram took off and rapidly accelerated into the depths of the moon. Wade just hoped the trip wasn’t too long or they would never get back to the surface in time.

“Spread out,” Beth ordered the rest of the Marines as she watched the trams leave. She had four full companies still with her. “I want this area of the complex secure and all Zaltule eliminated.”

“I’ll make sure the landing bay stays secure,” Captain Sterns replied as she ordered her company to head for the bay.

“I’ll check out the surrounding corridors,” added Captain Foster. Nicole wished she could have gone with Colonel Nelson. Her explosives expertise might have been useful.

“We only have forty minutes before we have to be back aboard the Argyle,” commented Sergeant Dawson as he watched the two companies of Marines move out. “What if the colonel doesn’t make it back in time?”

“He will,” promised Beth, her eyes gazing with concern at the now empty tram station. He had to make it back; she didn’t know what she would do if he didn’t.

-

In space, the heavy battlecruiser Union along with the Lanolthian and Tureen ships was attacking the second Zaltule shipyard. Already the Tureen had managed to hit the massive structure with four of their forty-megaton antimatter missiles.

“Heavy damage to the shipyard,” reported Colonel Jones.

“Still not enough,” grated out Commander Andrea Lucian as the Union shuddered violently.

“Two Lanolthian battlecruisers are down,” reported the lieutenant at the sensors. “We’ve also lost a Tureen battlecruiser.”

“The Zaltule are forming a nearly solid wall between us and the shipyard,” Colonel Jones pointed out as the tactical screen revealed over a thousand red icons between them and their target. “We’re about to be overwhelmed by inbound weapons fire. Our shields won’t hold up for long.”

Around them, hundreds of pulse fusion beams, energy beams, and antimatter missiles began to detonate against the Alliance ships’ energy shields. The Union suddenly lurched sideways and the lights flickered.

“We just lost Secondary Engineering,” the damage control officer reported. “A pulse fusion beam tore completely through it.”

“Casualties?” snapped Colonel Jones.

“No one got out,” reported the damage control officer, shaking his head.

“Two more Lanolthian battlecruisers are down,” added the lieutenant at the sensors.

“Heavy damage across the fleet,” reported the Communications officer.

On the ship’s main viewscreens, Commander Davis could see the glowing debris from the two Lanolthian ships. Even as she watched, another of the Tureen battlecruisers blew apart under the now heavy fire from the Zaltule fleet. If they stayed much longer, the entire fleet would be destroyed.

“Get us out of here,” Davis said with a deep sigh of disappointment. They didn’t have the firepower to destroy the shipyard, and it would serve no strategic purpose to allow her entire fleet to be wiped out. “Take us to our secondary target.”

Moments later, the remaining Alliance ships turned and accelerated away from the deadly Zaltule warships and quickly entered the safety of Fold Space. While they’d not been able to destroy the shipyard, they had damaged it substantially and could still annihilate their secondary targets.

-

Harmock watched as another human ship died under the heavy firepower of his fleet. The humans had succeeded in their surprise attack at the very beginning but were being eliminated by the vastly superior numbers of Zaltule ships orbiting the now destroyed shipyard. The humans had managed to destroy a number of the large sections that remained but were now being forced back.

“Still no communications with the rest of the system,” Dalock reported. “We don’t know if this is the only attack or if there are more.”

“Only short-range sensors are operating,” added Jalridd. “We can’t scan more than ten million kilometers out.”

“We’re nearly blind,” swore Minor Overlord Gareth, waving one of his dark arms toward the sensor screens.

“Do you still think these humans are an inferior species?” demanded Harmock as one of the humans’ larger warships exploded into thousands of glowing pieces from the detonation of an antimatter missile.

“You may be right,” admitted Gareth. “Never in our long history has our home system come under attack.”

“Until now!” Harmock reminded him harshly. “The humans are making us pay for being arrogant, thinking we’re invincible, and that all other races are inferior or vermin.”

“The humans must be annihilated,” uttered Gareth as his multifaceted eyes watched another of the humans’ smaller warships die in a blaze of fiery antimatter energy.

“They will be,” replied Harmock.

-

Admiral Rivers shook his head as another one of his ships died before his eyes on one of the Command Center’s viewscreens. Only moments before, the battlecruiser Wasp had succumbed as her energy shield was overwhelmed and Zaltule antimatter missiles turned the ship into glowing plasma.

“Light cruiser Sparrow is down,” spoke Lieutenant Hertz from the sensor console in an even voice. In the last few minutes, she’d spoken those words way too often.

“We’re taking too many losses,” Colonel Greerman said as his eyes turned toward the admiral. “Many of our remaining ships have suffered significant damage.”

“Order the fleet to withdraw,” commanded Admiral Rivers. If he stayed much longer, he would lose everything. They were being forced to withdraw much quicker than expected. This might cause some major problems for the Marine mission at the icy moon.

“Sending the order,” Colonel Greerman replied. He felt the admiral was making the right decision; there was no sound tactical reason for remaining and risking the surviving ships.

Moments later, the remaining ships of Fourth Fleet accelerated away from the large Zaltule fleet and entered the safety of Fold Space.

-

Wade stood staring into the large chamber through the thick protective glass window. Inside were four large stasis chambers with Kleese inside.

“Are you certain?” asked Wade, looking over at Major Winfrey.

“Positive,” Dylan replied. “We’ve tapped into their computer mainframe and have downloaded all the useful information. From what we understand, those four chambers contain Zaltule Queens. The rest have already been removed.”

Wade nodded. The fighting in this section of the facility had been fierce. The Zaltule had fought even as they were dying trying to protect this room. Some had been nearly torn in two and still tried to resist. On his HUD, nearly half the icons representing the Marines who had accompanied him were either red or amber.

“Put the antimatter warhead in the chamber with the Queens,” he ordered as he turned to leave. “Set the timer for forty minutes and then let’s get the hell out of here.”

The weapon was set and the Marines began to withdraw. As they pulled back, they used more explosives to bring down the surrounding corridors and rooms to ensure any surviving Zaltule wouldn’t be able to reach the weapon and attempt to deactivate or remove it.

“We’re not going to make it back in time,” Major Jeffries spoke as they prepared to board the trams. They were being slowed down due to the injured. Some were being carried because of the severity of their injuries.

“They’ll wait for us,” Wade responded. He knew Beth would be in the landing bay. Whether Fleet Commander Achlyn was still in orbit was another matter.

Twenty minutes later, the two trams pulled into the transport station where there was a noticeable absence of Marines. They quickly left the trams and began making their way through the short corridors.

“Where is everyone?” asked Major Jeffries with growing concern. They had twenty minutes before the warhead detonated, and if they were still in the Kleese facility when it exploded, it would take them with it.

“They must have pulled back to the landing bay,” suggested Dylan.

“Let’s hope so,” Wade responded as he began walking toward the corridor that led to the bay.

As Wade stepped through the last large hatch, he was relieved to see Beth but surprised that only a single squad of Marines were with her.

“I sent the rest up,” she explained as she walked up next to Wade. “Some Zaltule warships appeared in orbit, and Fleet Commander Achlyn had to engage them to keep them from attacking the Defender and Argyle. A larger force arrived about twenty minutes ago, and our ships had to pull out, including both of our troop ships.”

“Then we have no way to evacuate,” commented Dylan with a heavy sigh. At least the warhead would explode shortly and they wouldn’t have to worry about being captured by the Zaltule.

“I always wanted to go out with a big bang.” spoke up Sergeant Dawson as he gazed around at the other Marines.

“Not today, Sergeant,” Beth replied, shaking her head. “There’s an assault ship parked up on the blastcrete waiting for us. “Fleet Commander Achlyn sent the Defender and Argyle on to the rendezvous point, but the rest of his fleet left using their sublight drives. The Kleese are following and the two fleets are sniping at each other from long distance. Fleet Commander Achlyn feels it’s only a matter of time before additional Kleese ships appear in front of him and he will have to jump into Fold Space. We need to get off this rock as quickly as possible.”

“Lead the way,” Wade said. They might just get out of this yet.

A few minutes later, the last of the Marines were aboard the assault ship, which instantly lifted up and accelerated away from the icy moon. Wade hurriedly removed his battlesuit and along with Beth, Major Winfrey, and Major Jeffries rushed to the ship’s Command Center.

“Switch the main viewscreen to a view of the Zaltule complex,” Wade ordered as they stepped inside.

“Yes, Colonel,” Captain Everson said as he gave the order. The screen changed to show a view of the surface. The buildings suddenly seemed to shake and then collapsed as they dropped into a massive cavity which suddenly appeared beneath them and over to one side.

“It went off,” Dylan said as he gazed at the viewscreen. “We killed their Queens and retrieved the data.”

“But we lost a lot of Marines,” Wade said in response. Fighting Zaltule was a lot different than fighting the other Kleese or even armored conscripts.

“Now we can go home,” Beth said, taking Wade’s hand. “We’ve accomplished our mission and even found Ryan; I’m ready to return to Vesta.”

The assault ship accelerated away from the icy moon and made the jump into Fold Space. The battle in the Kleese home system was over.

-

Admiral Rivers looked at the tactical display and felt dismay at the number of ships reporting in. The battle in the Kleese home system had been costly. Fourth Fleet had lost the heavy battlecruiser Britannica, the battlecruiser Wasp, and eight light cruisers. They’d also lost thirty-two of the fifty assault ships that had come with them. Of the remaining eighteen, seven were damaged to such an extent they wouldn’t survive the long journey back to the Alliance. They’d have to be abandoned and scuttled.

The Alliance fleets had suffered also. The Naltons had lost seven battlecruisers, the Lanolthians six, the Deltons eight, the Tureen four, and the Pradelians nine. Over half of the combat vessels of the combined fleets had been destroyed in the attack upon the Kleese home system.

“We hurt the Kleese,” Colonel Greerman said, seeing the gloomy look on the admiral’s face. “We destroyed one shipyard, heavily damaged another, took out two of their biggest mining operations, wiped out the center of their capital city, and destroyed the Zaltule facility on that moon. That’s a huge victory by any standards.”

Admiral Rivers leaned back in is command chair and took a deep breath. “You’re right. It was an opportunity we had to exploit. The Kleese will never let us get that close to their home system again. But we lost a hell of a lot of good people, both ourselves and our allies.”

“What do we do now?”

“As soon as we’ve scuttled the damaged assault ships we’ll jump back into Fold Space. We’re going to have to stop somewhere for repairs, perhaps back in that system where we originally hid. Once the fleet is back in reasonable shape, we’ll head back to the Alliance.”

“The Kleese will be searching for us,” Greerman said. “We won’t be in any kind of shape for a major battle.”

“They won’t find us,” Rivers replied confidently. “If we’re careful we should be able to make it back to the Alliance and safety.”

“It’ll be good to see home again,” commented Greerman. He’d never been sure if they would return from this mission.

“Yes, it will,” replied Admiral Rivers.

He just wondered what the Kleese would do now. Would they fortify their home systems and try to repair the damage Fourth Fleet had inflicted, or would they launch a massive attack against the Alliance and the solar system seeking revenge for what had been done to them? There was no way of knowing.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Supreme Military Overlord Harmock listened in growing anger to the final report of the damage the human attack had caused. It was astonishing what the humans had been able to accomplish.

“Seven Council Overlords died in the capital city when the human weapons detonated,” Minor Overlord Gareth reported. “Six million Kleese are reported to be dead with many others injured. Much of the city is in ruins from the human attack as well as the collateral damage from our own weapons that were trying to take out the human ship.

“We will have to delay our attack,” spoke Harmock in a cold and deadly voice. “The damaged shipyard must be repaired and fortifications put in place around our planet to ensure this doesn’t happen again. We’ll have to assign fleet units to protect our worlds.”

“What about the ice moon?”

Harmock glared at Gareth, his multifaceted eyes glowing red in anger. “Four Queens killed! The entire facility destroyed. If the council under former Supreme Overlord Xatul had acted properly when the humans were first found, none of this would ever have occurred.”

“How long will we delay our attack?”

“At least six months, possibly longer,” Harmock answered. “When we do, we must not underestimate the humans and their Alliance.”

“We will avenge our dead Queens,” uttered Gareth.

Harmock didn’t respond. The humans were an adversary beyond any the Kleese had encountered before. Never again would Harmock underestimate them; from now on he would consider them as equals to the Zaltule in combat. It was the only way to guarantee victory.

-

Wade and Beth were in his quarters on the troop assault ship Defender. The fleet had already stopped at the gas giant planet and spent slightly over a week performing necessary repairs before continuing on in Fold Space toward the Alliance. Beth had decided Major Jeffries could handle the Marine duties on the Argyle. She was going to spend the long weeks on the voyage home with Wade.

“I’m resigning my commission again as soon as we reach Vesta,” Beth told Wade as they sat together on the comfortable couch in his quarters.

“Are you going back to your job as head of security for the cloning facility?” asked Wade. He was pleased Beth was getting back out of the military.

“No,” Beth answered with a strange look in her eyes. Her face was even a little flushed.

“I plan on staying home for awhile and raising our kids.”

Wade’s eyes focused on Beth. “Are you telling me you’re pregnant?”

Beth laughed and shook her head. “No, not yet, but we have a long trip back to Vesta and once we’re there I want to be able to tell your parents and my mother they’re going to become grandparents.”

Wade allowed himself to smile. Their parents would be excited about that announcement. Now he just needed to make sure Beth was pregnant when they got back. He was fairly certain they could accomplish that. Perhaps it was even time for him to think about requesting a military position at Vesta.

“I think our fighting is done,” Beth said softly as she placed her hand on Wade’s chest. “It’s time for the younger generation to take over.”

Wade turned toward Beth and kissed her; he knew she was probably right.

-

Casey and Ryan were in quarters assigned to them on the Kivean medical ship Micene. Harnett had personally arranged for the quarters when Casey told her she wanted to stay with Ryan.

“Are you sure about this?” asked Ryan as Casey lay down on the bed next to him.

“I’m sure,” Casey replied. Lauren would be smiling if she knew she and Ryan were together. Lauren had been pushing for this for months.

“What about our military careers?”

“We’ll worry about them when we get back,” Casey answered as she snuggled up closer to Ryan. “Right now I just want you to focus on me.” She rolled over and kissed Ryan on the lips, feeling his arms slide around her. She wasn’t frightened or nervous; she knew she would never be as long as she had Ryan.

-

Marken and Harnett were in their quarters talking. The mission had gone far better than they’d ever expected.

“You were right picking the humans to fight the Kleese,” Harnett said, reaching out and taking her life mate’s hand. “When you first came to me and said they were the ones, I had my doubts.”

“The Alliance they’ve formed will only grow stronger when word of what they just did reaches other worlds,” replied Marken. “The attack upon the Kleese wasn’t just done by human ships; the majority of the warships in the fleet were from Alliance worlds.”

“This was always your dream,” Harnett said, gazing deeply into Marken’s eyes. “To rid the galaxy of the Kleese. I never thought it would be possible.”

“It’s not done yet,” Marken replied. “Attacking the Kleese home system was a huge step and it shows the Alliance is real. We must continue to add new worlds and prepare for the coming attacks from the Kleese.”

Harnett was silent for a long moment. “Do you think we’ll win in the end?”

Marken smiled and slowly nodded his head. “The humans don’t know how to lose. I don’t think even now the Kleese realize just what the humans are capable of.”

Harnett nodded her head, she trusted Marken’s judgment. If he felt the humans would win in the end, she believed him.

-

Deep in Strell space, Supreme Overlord Xatul stood before the most powerful Strell Queen and her entourage. Ten Kleese in battlesuits stood behind him.

“Why have you come here?” hissed the Queen. Around her neck was a Kleese collar of obedience.

“I come with a proposal,” Xatul answered. They were in a great den deep beneath the Strell capital planet. Xatul was acutely aware there were thousands of Strell around him.

“What type of proposal?” asked the Queen as the narrow eyes on her wide head gazed at the Kleese before her.

“Your freedom,” Xatul replied as he pressed a button on the black box in his right hand. Instantly the collar around the Queen’s neck deactivated and fell off.

The Queen’s hand went to her neck as she gazed at Xatul. “And what do you demand for our freedom?”

“To help me destroy the Zaltule. Your shipyards are still intact and I have two of our trading stations at my disposal to help make any necessary repairs.”

“And if we agree?”

“The Strell Empire will be returned to its former glory and all Kleese will withdraw.”

The Strell Queen thought over the offer, her long forked tongue flickering forth. “I agree.”

Xatul felt pleased. He would soon show the Zaltule, which was the dominate Kleese caste. It was a war of insurrection he was planning. When it was over, he would once more be the Supreme Overlord of the Kleese Empire.

The End

If you enjoyed The Galactic Empire Wars: The Alliance and would like to see the series continue, please post a review with some stars. Good reviews encourage an author to write and to help books sell. Reviews can be just a few short sentences describing what you liked about the book. If you have suggestions, please contact me at my website. Thank you for reading The Alliance and being so supportive.

Coming soon. The Galactic Empire Wars: Insurrection

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Website: http://raymondlweil.com/

Other Books by Raymond L. Weil

Available on Amazon

Moon Wreck (The Slaver Wars Book 1)

The Slaver Wars: Alien Contact (The Slaver Wars Book 2)

Moon Wreck: Fleet Academy (The Slaver Wars Book 3)

The Slaver Wars: First Strike (The Slaver Wars Book 4)

The Slaver Wars: Retaliation (The Slaver Wars Book 5)

The Slaver Wars: Galactic Conflict (The Slaver Wars Book 6)

The Slaver Wars: Endgame (The Slaver Wars Book 7)

-

Dragon Dreams

Dragon Dreams: Dragon Wars

Dragon Dreams: Gilmreth the Awakening

Dragon Dreams: Snowden the White Dragon

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Star One: Tycho City: Survival

Star One: Neutron Star

Star One: Dark Star

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Galactic Empire Wars: Destruction (Book 1)

Galactic Empire Wars: Emergence (Book 2)

Galactic Empire Wars: Rebellion (Book 3)

Galactic Empire Wars: The Alliance (Book 4)

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The Lost Fleet: Galactic Search (Book 1)

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The Lost Fleet: Into the Darkness (Book 2) summer 2015

The Star Cross fall 2015

Galactic Empire Wars: Insurrection (Book 5) fall 2015

Turn the page for an introduction to The Lost Fleet: Galactic Search.

The Lost Fleet: Galactic Search

A Slaver Wars Novel

Chapter One

Admiral Race Tolsen grimaced as the WarHawk shook violently. They were at Condition One with everyone at their battlestations. On the tactical display, forty glaring red threat icons represented the warships which continued to harass his fleet.

“Light damage to outer hull, section D-12,” reported the Damage Control officer. “Hull integrity is holding.” The ship shuddered as missiles and energy beams continued to impact the defense shield.

“Damn Borzon,” Commander Madelyn Arnett uttered as she held on to the armrests of her command chair. “They should have stayed in their own territory!”

“We’re having this problem all along the entire border of the former Hocklyn Slave Empire,” commented Admiral Tolsen as the WarHawk fired off a series of sublight antimatter missiles at the nearby Borzon cruiser attacking them. “The Borzon are trying to add these worlds to their own empire. This is the deepest any of their fleets have penetrated into Federation-controlled space.”

“Well, that’s not happening today,” said Madelyn, as she ordered the 1,600-meter WarHawk to close the range with the nearest enemy cruiser. “We’ll show them what the penalty is for trespassing in our territory.”

On the main viewscreen, the energy screen of the targeted Borzon ship was lit up from massive antimatter explosions and showed signs of imminent collapse. Other Borzon ships were also under heavy attack from the various ships of the Third Fleet. The Borzon cruisers were slim vessels, heavily armed, and 1,200 meters in length.

“Fire particle beam!” commanded Madelyn, sensing a weakness in this particular Borzon ship’s protective shield. It was flickering and, in some areas, seemed to have faded away completely. While the Borzon ships were quite powerful, the Federation ships had superior weapons and energy shields.

Instantly a bright blue beam flashed from the WarHawk and easily pierced the Borzon ship’s energy screen, impacting the ship’s hull and causing a tremendous explosion of released energy. A massive section of the hull broke loose and floated away from the ship. Internal explosions could be seen blowing out other sections of hull material. The Borzon ship seemed to falter, and then its energy screen flickered and collapsed. A fifty-megaton Devastator Three missile finished off the ship in a fiery burst of consuming nuclear fire. A few moments later, all that was left of the enemy cruiser was a scattering debris field and some glowing gases.

“Borzon cruiser is down,” confirmed Lieutenant Brent Davis from his Main Sensor console.

“Battleships Ajax and Constitution are heavily engaged with three Borzon cruisers,” reported Commander Arnett as she studied one of the holographic tactical displays. “They’re taking some damage.”

Tolsen nodded as he thumbed his minicomm to Fleet-wide setting. “Strikecruisers Vendetta and Longhorn move to coordinates 17° down by 22° starboard of central axis and assist the Ajax and the Constitution.” Race wasn’t that concerned about the two battleships; he just wanted to hold their damage to a minimum.

-

The pair of strikecruisers quickly accelerated and headed toward the two battleships’ positions. Upon arriving, they found the Ajax and Constitution involved in a missile duel with three Borzon cruisers. Antimatter missiles and powerful nuclear missiles were exploding against energy shields. Suddenly the screen on one of the Borzon ships failed, and twin antimatter suns formed where the ship had been. The two remaining Borzon cruisers shifted their attack, focusing on the Ajax. The battleship’s energy screen lit up in a cascade of raw defensive power as over a dozen twenty-megaton nuclear missiles detonated against it.

From the two strikecruisers, multiple sublight antimatter missiles flashed away from their missile tubes impacting the Borzon energy shields. For a brief moment, it seemed as if two new stars had been born. When the glare died away, the two Borzon cruisers were gone. Several fiery filaments were all that was left to mark their passing.

-

Admiral Tolsen nodded his head in satisfaction at the destruction of three more Borzon cruisers. So far the battle was going just as he had expected. There was no doubt in his mind that the Borzon Empire was testing the Federation’s will to defend former Hocklyn space.

“Light cruiser Baltic is under heavy attack,” reported Lieutenant Denise Travers from Communications. “They report their shields are down to 20 percent and still dropping.”

“How the hell did a Borzon cruiser slip past us and get to our rear echelon?” demanded Tolsen, his face showing concern. Third Fleet’s ten light cruisers were protecting the fleet’s four large battlecarriers, and they weren’t built to take on an enemy cruiser.

“They microjumped,” reported Lieutenant Davis in explanation.

“Saratoga is launching two squadrons of Anlon bombers toward the enemy cruiser,” reported Commander Arnett, the tactical screen showing twenty small green icons flash away from the carrier and accelerate toward the Borzon ship.

“Will they get there in time?” asked Race, his eyes focusing intently on the indicated tactical display. He knew the light cruiser wouldn’t last long against the more powerful Borzon ship.

“No,” replied Lieutenant Davis, as a viewscreen lit up with a brilliant light. “Light cruiser Baltic is down. Anlon bombers are making their attack runs.”

Race watched the tactical display grimly as six of the small green bomber icons vanished, then the icon representing the enemy cruiser seemed to swell up, and afterward it also disappeared.

“The Borzon cruiser is down,” spoke Lieutenant Davis, satisfied that the Baltic had been avenged.

Race let out a deep sigh of regret at the loss of the light cruiser, and the six Anlon bombers and their crews; this was war, and people died, sometimes very suddenly. He turned his attention back to the battle, ordering his ships to press the attack and drive back the remaining Borzon ships.

-

In space the Federation ships’ bright blue particle beams, violet-colored power beams, and the orange-red flash of pulse lasers lit up the darkness. In response the Borzon returned fire with powerful white energy beams and their own orange-red pulse lasers. Both sides were using their deadly sublight missiles in an effort to knock down energy screens and destroy the ships they were fighting. The only difference being, while the Borzon’s sublight missiles were armed with twenty-megaton nuclear warheads, the Federation’s were armed with one-hundred-megaton antimatter warheads.

When multiple Federation antimatter missiles struck a Borzon cruiser’s shield, invariably the shield either weakened substantially or collapsed. In most cases, bright blue particle beams would then finish the destruction, blasting massive holes inside the enemy ship, until it exploded. A Borzon cruiser could only stand a few hits from the deadly missiles. The cruisers, while dangerous to smaller ships, were finding it difficult to even damage the more powerful Federation ships, particularly the battleships and battlecruisers.

-

“The Humans grow more powerful in every engagement,” rasped Fleet Commander Tilett—a male Borzon standing well over two meters tall with wide multifaceted eyes upon a strangely shaped head. A pair of long, narrow wings was on his back, and his body was covered with fine, stiff short hair. Tilett stood on two legs that were bent strangely and had four slender double-jointed arms capable of grasping and operating the ship’s control consoles.

“Perhaps we have tried to extend the empire too far into former Hocklyn space,” suggested High Nest Leader Trill. “It seems the Humans have laid claim to a large portion of the Hocklyns’ former territory.”

“The Humans have restricted the surviving Hocklyns to their home worlds and a small area of space surrounding them,” Fleet Commander Tilett responded, as he watched several more of his battlecruisers being torn apart by Human antimatter missiles. The empire’s losses were inconsequential as the Borzon had many more cruisers. This raid had been to test the Humans’ determination to retain the space previously held by the Hocklyns.

“Don’t forget about High Leader Nartel,” High Nest Leader Trill spoke, his multifaceted eyes focusing on the fleet commander. “The Hocklyns with him still possess a powerful fleet and control twenty other worlds near the border of our empire.”

“The Hocklyns, along with High Leader Nartel, will not have the numbers to be a threat to anyone for centuries,” answered Fleet Commander Tilett dismissively. “Our high queen has signed a treaty with the Hocklyn’s High Leader Nartel, guaranteeing the Borzon Empire will not attack them, as long as they don’t venture into our space. In addition, the Humans have not been active in that region of space, and we have expanded our empire to completely surround the new Hocklyn system and the twenty worlds they control. Any hope they have of future expansion has been removed.”

“Then they are neutralized from ever becoming a threat,” replied High Nest Leader Trill, as the flagship shook from multiple energy weapons striking its defensive screen.

“Yes,” answered Fleet Commander Tilett, watching one of his cruisers destroy another of the Human’s lighter units. “It is time for us to withdraw. We’ve learned what we needed to. We’ll take over the outer regions of the former Hocklyn Empire, but the central regions are now under Human control.”

“I will pass on the order to enter hyperspace,” responded the High Nest Leader.

“We will make our report to the high queen,” stated Fleet Commander Tilett, partially spreading his wings. “She will be satisfied with what we’ve learned today.” Tilett was anxious to return home; it was time for him to mate with his own queen and add his genes to the Borzon race. His many offspring would continue to grow the Borzon Empire.

-

“Light cruiser Dante is down,” reported Lieutenant Davis in a neutral voice. That was the second light cruiser and its crew they’d lost, though several of the heavier ships were reporting some damage. There would be casualties on those vessels as well.

“The Borzon are withdrawing,” spoke Commander Arnett, pointing toward one of the tactical displays, as the enemy ships vanished into hyperspace.

“Let them go,” responded Admiral Tolsen, nodding his head. “We’ve shown them that certain areas of the former Hocklyn Empire are off-limits to them.”

A few moments later, the last Borzon cruiser vanished into a swirling white spatial vortex, leaving the Federation fleet alone in the small star system.

“Remaining ships report able to enter hyperspace,” spoke Lieutenant Travers from Communications. “Several have mentioned that they’ll need some yard time to repair damages.”

“Very well,” answered Admiral Tolsen. “Commander Arnett, have the fleet set course for Careth. The Bears’ shipyards can easily repair our battle damage.”

“Do you think the Borzon will come back?” asked Colonel Brice Cowel, the executive officer. He had been at the Tactical console, helping to coordinate the firing of the ship’s weapons.

“Not for a while,” Tolsen answered, his face covered in a frown. “They know we won’t allow them to enter the central regions of the former Hocklyn Empire, but we don’t have enough ships to adequately guard the periphery.”

“Then we allow the Borzon to take over all the inhabited worlds near their empire?” asked Colonel Cowel, knowing they were talking about hundreds of inhabited planets. Many were just beginning to recover from their years or even centuries of Hocklyn rule.

“No,” responded Tolsen, shaking his head. “Several fleets will be assigned to patrol the regions next to Borzon space. We’re hoping we can slow down or even discourage Borzon encroachment, but, for some areas, that may already be too late.”

Race turned his attention to the primary viewscreen as a blue-white spatial vortex opened up in front of the WarHawk. Moments later the Helm officer flew the powerful battleship into the vortex, and the ship made the transition into hyperspace.

Still looking at the viewscreen, Race could see the swirling deep purple colors, which designated this strange realm that allowed spacecraft to travel many multiples of the speed of light. With a sigh he turned the Command Center over to Commander Arnett, then Race headed toward his quarters. He wanted to get some rest and think about what was still ahead of them. Taking a turbolift, he reached his quarters in a few minutes, and, after going inside, he sat down on the comfortable couch.

On the far wall of his room was a picture of a blazing white light surrounding a Federation warship. It was the Avenger, which had been missing for over four years. The entire Fourth Fleet and the Carethian Fleet had been swallowed up by the raging nightmare at the galactic center. What had happened there had shaken to their core the New Human Federation of Worlds and their allies.

To this day, there was much supposition about what had happened to Admiral Strong and his ships. Many people believed Strong and his fleets had been destroyed outright in the violent energy surges at the heart of that blazing sphere of light. Others firmly believed Admiral Strong and his ships had been transported to another galaxy, and the blazing sphere of light was a distorted spatial vortex—a vortex created when Admiral Strong had used the Avenger in a daring suicidal attempt to destroy the Hypertranslation Station of the dreaded AIs.

There were unconfirmed rumors that the last two survivors of the Special Five were working with the Altons on a rescue mission. No one could verify if this was true or just a wild hope that something was being done. Many felt, even if the swirling white light had been a spatial vortex, that Admiral Strong and his fleets had been transported so far away that there was no conceivable hope of rescue.

Race let out a deep breath, leaned back, and closed his eyes. So many good people had been lost at the battle in the galactic center. Everyone who had been there knew Admiral Strong had saved the Federation by his brave act. All the Federation fleets would have been destroyed by the AIs, but, instead, by destroying the AIs’ Hypertranslation Station, Admiral Strong had paralyzed their enemy, allowing the Federation to be victorious. Every child was now taught that Fleet Admiral Hedon Streth had saved the Human race from the Hocklyns, but Admiral Jeremy Strong had saved everyone from the AIs.

-

Admiral Kalen was busy in his office on his flagship, the battleship Ceres, as he read the latest dispatches from Allied fleets and diplomats scattered across the former Hocklyn Empire. The most interesting was from Senator Jalen Arden, who was currently at New Providence in the Old Human Federation of Worlds. As had been expected, new and thriving colonies were now well established on all the former Federation worlds, which had been devastated by the Hocklyn and AI attacks. She was reporting the completion of the final planetary defense grid over New Eden in the Cantos System and the quota of immigrants from the New Human Federation of Worlds that would be allowed to settle there. He looked up when Colonel Ackerman joined him.

“New Providence has come a long way,” commented the colonel, who had transferred to the Ceres after the defeat of the Hocklyn Slave Empire. “Many of the fleet personnel who were in cryosleep for so many years have retired there.”

“Yes,” Kalen responded with a relaxed smile. “I recently received a message from former Fleet Admiral Streth with an invitation to come to Maken to visit him and Janice if I’m ever in the area. I know it meant a lot to them to return home.”

“How does he like retirement?”

“He loves it,” Kalen responded with a sigh, wishing he could do the same. “Hedon says he spends his days fishing and taking long hikes around his private lake. In the evening, they sit outside on the porch, watching the sunset.”

“How’s Admiral Sheen doing on Aquaria?”

“She and Richard are having a child,” Kalen said, grinning. “Amanda always wanted children, but she wanted the Hocklyn and AI threat to be over with first. In four more months, a new member will be added to their family.”

“That’s great!” spoke Ackerman, nodding his head approvingly. “So many things have changed since the end of the war.”

“There are still the Borzon and the other two Slaver Races,” replied Kalen in a more serious tone. “Admiral Tolsen just battled with a small Borzon fleet deep in former Hocklyn territory. He sent them packing with only minimal losses to his own fleet.”

“We’ve had a number of minor skirmishes with them over the last two years,” commented Ackerman with a frown. “It’s evident they want to expand their empire into former Hocklyn space.”

“We can’t defend all of it,” Kalen said with a heavy sigh, as he leaned back in his office chair. “We just don’t have the ships to cover such a large area. We’ve set up a safe corridor four thousand light years across that extends from the Alliance all the way to the Hocklyn home worlds. The Old Human Federation of Worlds plus Careth are included in the safe area.”

“Plus several thousand inhabited planets, which were formerly Hocklyn slave worlds,” added Ackerman, thinking about the massive task the Alliance had taken on, bringing those worlds out of slavery.

“Fortunately the Altons are heavily involved in rehabilitating the people and reconstructing these former slave worlds,” Kalen said, recalling what he had been told at his last briefing with Fleet Admiral Nagumo. “They have hundreds of ships with thousands of crewmembers working with these planets, and, in a few years, some of them will be ready to join the Alliance.”

“We’ll need them,” Ackerman said, folding his arms across his chest and gazing across the large desk at Admiral Kalen. “Sometime in the future we’ll have to take on the Borzon and other Slaver Races. We can’t allow tens of thousands of inhabited worlds to be enslaved and to live in the conditions their conquerors demand. We’ll need their help in freeing them.”

“Someday,” Kalen acknowledged with a nod. “But right now I need to visit Ceres for a meeting with Governor Barnes. It seems a Carethian delegation of Bears has arrived, and they’re demanding an immediate audience with the governor.”

“The Fourth Fleet and the Carethian Fleet,” speculated Ackerman, his eyes growing a bit wider. “They’ll want to know what we’re doing about the missing fleets.”

“I know,” Kalen replied with some anguish in his voice. “Governor Barnes’s daughter has been just as demanding.” Rear Admiral Kathryn Barnes had been at the galactic center battle and had witnessed what had happened to the missing fleets.

“Do you think they survived?”

“That’s the big question,” Kalen answered, his eyes taking on a haunted look. “I’ve seen the videos of the battle and what happened. Most of the people in the Federation have watched them. It was terrifying and magnificent. The Avenger flying into certain death, destroying the Hypertranslation Station, and then vanishing along with part of the Fourth Fleet into the swirling white vortex. Then Grayseth leading his Carethian ships into the vortex with Admiral Susan Marks following close behind.”

“And they were never heard from again,” said Ackerman in a subdued voice.

“There were hundreds of AI ships drawn into the vortex as well,” Kalen added with a heavy sigh. “Even if Admiral Strong and the Fourth Fleet did survive, they would have had a huge battle on their hands on the other side.”

“Do you think we’ll ever know?” Ackerman asked, his eyes focusing on the admiral.

“I don’t know,” Kalen replied, as he stood up. “To the Carethians, Admiral Strong and the rest of the Special Five are heroes who saved their world. Those crazy Bears are willing to commit their entire fleet to a rescue effort, if we can just tell them where to go—and, of course, that’s the problem. We have no idea what happened to the Fourth Fleet or even if it survived.”

-

Governor Barnes drew in a deep breath, as the door to his office opened, and four Carethians entered. The four Bears towered over the two Humans in the room, and their massive bodies gave off an aura of strength and fortitude.

Standing up, the governor indicated for the four to sit down in the large chairs provided. “I welcome our allies from Careth.”

“I am Santell,” spoke the largest Carethian, as he sat down. His fur was a deep dark brown, and his eyes gazed intently at Governor Barnes and Admiral Kalen. “We have come to speak of a matter of grave importance to my race and our honor.”

“It’s about Admiral Strong and Grayseth,” spoke Governor Barnes knowingly, sitting back down in his chair. He had been governor for two years since former Governor Malleck had decided to retire and not run for reelection.

“Yes,” answered Santell, nodding his large head and blinking his eyes. “I am of Grayseth’s clan, and Admiral Jeremy Strong is an honorary clan brother. For four long years, he and Grayseth have been missing. Our people yearn to know the fate of our missing brothers.”

“We all would like to know,” answered Governor Barnes with a deep sigh. “My own daughter was at the great battle at the galactic center and scarcely a day passes where she does not send me an inquiry asking the same thing.”

“We have tried to ask the Altons, but they refuse to give us an audience,” Santell added. “I believe our physical form frightens them.”

Governor Barnes nodded and smiled. “Highly probable,” he replied. “Most of the Altons are a very pacifist people and are only interested in research, while the more daring are involved in exploration. Only a few fought in the war, and, even now, most of their warship crews are augmented by Humans trained to operate their ships.”

“I believe only the great science of the Altons can discover what happened to my clan brothers,” Santell continued. “We would like for you to arrange a meeting between my people and theirs to see what can be done. We are willing to equip and send ships to the nearer galaxies in search of the missing fleets. We are aware such a journey will take years and be extremely dangerous, but we must know what happened. Our honor demands it.”

“There are many who believe the ships, which entered the white vortex, were destroyed by the rampant energy released when the Hypertranslation Station was destroyed,” Admiral Kalen pointed out. “There may be nothing to find.”

“We recognize that possibility,” conceded Santell. “But no wreckage from any of the ships that entered the vortex has ever been discovered. We've taken our pleas to the New Human Federation of Worlds, but they seem convinced a search for the lost fleets is a pointless waste of resources.”

“I can understand their perspective,” Admiral Kalen replied. “The New Human Federation of Worlds and the Alliance have a huge job on their hands, exploring the former Hocklyn Slave Empire and keeping all those worlds safe. The Borzon are still out there, as well as the other Slaver Races.”

“We understand,” Santell replied with a nod. “We respect their great concern for those worlds that suffered under the rule of the evil ones.”

Governor Barnes was silent as he contemplated what needed to be done. There was a secret project that Ceres was working on with the Altons. It had been kept a secret as they didn’t want to give out false hope. After a moment, he reached a decision. “The Special Five have always been very important to the people of Ceres,” he began, pressing a button on his desk, activating a large viewscreen on the wall behind him. “As you know, Kelsey Grainger Strong and Katie Johnson Walters were not with the Fourth Fleet when it entered the vortex. They were aboard the StarStrike with Fleet Admiral Streth.”

“We were relieved to hear they survived,” Santell replied. “We had hoped they would return to live upon our world.”

“They couldn’t,” Governor Barnes said, as he manipulated a small computer console on his desk. “They were working on this.” He turned around and pointed at the viewscreen behind him.

On the viewscreen was a massive starship, the largest any of them in the room had ever seen. A substantial globe on the bow easily identified the ship as being of Alton design.

“What’s that?” uttered Admiral Kalen, as he looked at the huge ship on the screen. Just from seeing the obvious weapons systems, he knew he was looking at something special and fantastic. He was not aware of such a ship being built.

“That is the exploration dreadnought Distant Horizon,” Governor Barnes answered with a wicked smile. “It’s the most powerful warship ever built by the Altons or the Federation. The ship is 2,600 meters in length with a crew of over five thousand. The government of Ceres provided the resources and credits to cover the expenses for building this ship.”

“How was this built with no one knowing?” asked Kalen, glancing over at the governor. “What’s it for?” To build a ship of such size would have been a massive undertaking and extremely expensive.

“It was built at the Altons’ main shipyard under the direction of both Human and Alton scientists,” Governor Barnes explained. “It was constructed for one purpose and one purpose only—to find out what happened to the lost fleets once and for all.”

“How?” asked Admiral Kalen, confused. “We don’t know where the fleets went.”

“That ship is capable of finding out,” Governor Barnes answered with a pleased glint in his eyes. “There will be a large contingent of Alton scientists and technicians aboard, and some very special sensor equipment. It’s capable of generating a spatial vortex that can reach another galaxy, once they know their destination.”

“I would like to go on the ship,” Santell spoke, his eyes focused intently on the massive starship. “I will go in search of my clan brothers.”

“I’m sure we can arrange for a few of your people to be added to the crew,” replied Governor Barnes. He was not surprised by the Bear’s request.

“This is what Kelsey and Katie have been working on for the last four years,” stated Admiral Kalen, realizing now why the two girls had seemingly vanished after the ceremony honoring the fallen at the Fleet Academy.

“Yes,” answered Governor Barnes with a nod of his head. “They also had the help of Clarissa.”

“I’m surprised the Altons allowed Clarissa to be involved, since she’s an AI,” Admiral Kalen said, his eyes widening.

“Katie can be quite convincing when she wants to be,” replied Governor Barnes, recalling how Katie had convinced Ambassador Tureen to allow the AI to enter Alton space.

“Who will command the ship?” asked Admiral Kalen, as he thought about the officers who might be qualified for such a command.

“That decision’s already been made,” Governor Barnes said with a concerned look spreading across his face. “The commander of the Distant Horizon will be my daughter, Rear Admiral Kathryn Barnes.”

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