Galactic Empire Wars 2: Emergence (26 page)

“Who are
they?” asked Colonel Greerman, striding over to look over Lieutenant Hertz’s
shoulder at the information coming up on her screen.

“I’m running
it through the ship database now,” she responded as she waited for the computer
to respond. The ship’s computer had been loaded with the ship database from
Centerpoint as well as ship information gathered from the attack on the
communications center.

“Can they
detect us at this range?” asked Admiral Rivers as his eyes returned to the
tactical screen and the two red icons. As he watched, they seemed to be moving
away from the fleet.

“I don’t think
so,” Lieutenant Hertz answered as the computer finally identified the unknown
ships. “The ships are Dirden cargo vessels. They have no weapons and only
minimal sensors. The Dirden home world is only twenty light years from our
current position.”

“Probably
checking their systems same as us,” commented Colonel Greerman, feeling
satisfied that the two ships were not an immediate threat. “Do you want to take
the fleet into Fold Space?”

“No,” Rivers responded
as he watched the two red icons as they steadily moved away from the fleet.
“We’re right in the middle of our system checks and the Dirden vessels don’t
seem to pose a threat. Take us back to Condition Three but keep an eye on them.
If they turn or do anything that looks suspicious, we’re out of here!”

Looking around
the Command Center, Rivers could see the tension leaving the faces of the crew.
For a moment, everyone had thought that the Kleese had stumbled across them. If
that had been the case, the entire mission would've been jeopardized.

-

Eight hours
later, all system checks were complete and the only major problem found was
aboard one of the two ammunition ships. A power relay to the ship’s fusion
reactor had to be replaced and once that was finished, the fleet was ready to
get under way once more.

“Take us back
into Fold Space,” ordered Admiral Rivers, glancing one last time at the large
tactical screen. The two Dirden cargo ships had left the system several hours
back and never came close to the fleet.

“Entering Fold
Space,” Ensign Rodriquez replied as he turned the large key that controlled the
ship’s powerful Fold Space Drive.

Instantly, the
Independence and the rest of the ships of Fourth Fleet accelerated to a speed
of many times that of light and soon left the blue giant system far behind.
They'd have to drop out of Fold Space twelve more times before they reached
their destination. They still had a long ways to go before they reached their
target area.

-

On the Kleese
home world, a turbulent meeting was being held. The Council of Overlords was
discussing the recent setback of the warfleet that had been sent to the Human
system.

Bixutl slammed
his hand down upon the hard, unforgiving stone of the council table. “Five
warships destroyed!” he uttered in an angry voice. He folded the seven digits
of his hand into a fist and waved it at Xatul, the Supreme Overlord. “How is
this possible? We haven’t lost a warship of that class in over a thousand
years; not since the war with the Strell!”

“Minor
Overlord Axtell and the Dark Oblivion did not survive,” Xatul responded his
eyes raking over Bixutl. “The information we have from the surviving warship is
sketchy at best. I've sent instructions for them to return as soon as possible
so we can examine the ship’s records of the battle.”

“What do we do
about the Humans in the meantime?” demanded Hymtal, folding his long black arms
over the thick, coarse hair on his chest. “It seems as if they are becoming a
major threat.”

“Their fleet
was badly damaged in the battle,” Xatul replied in a calm and commanding voice.
“Most of their major warships were destroyed and many others were heavily
damaged. Even with the aid of the station they stole from us, it will take time
to repair what they lost. It will be several years before we have to worry
about the Humans again.”

“I am not so
certain,” Bixutl responded his voice rising in ire. “The Humans need to be
destroyed while we have the opportunity. If we have destroyed so many of their
warships, why not send our fleet back reinforced with additional exploration
ships to finish the job?”

“While it is
true that we have heavily damaged their fleet, scans from an earlier battle
indicate they have placed heavy weapons around their known colonies as well as
added more weapons to the trading station they have taken. I think it is a
wiser course of action to wait until our surviving warship returns, and then we
can study the data of the battle to determine our next course of action. That
will ensure the next attack will not fail.”

“And if it is
determined that the Humans are indeed a major threat to our Empire, then what
will be your recommendation?” asked Keluth. He wondered if the Supreme Overlord
was showing weakness at his refusal to deal with this Human problem. Any sign
of weakness would result in Xatul being removed as the Supreme Overlord and
being replaced by another from the council.

“Don’t doubt
my determination in dealing with this problem,” warned Xatul, sensing
misgivings in Keluth’s voice. “After reviewing the battle data from our
warship, if we deem the Humans are indeed a serious threat then I will awaken
the Zaltule and have them deal with these vermin.”

Everyone
became quiet at Xatul’s mentioning of the Zaltule. There was no doubt that the
warrior sect would make quick work of the upstart Humans.

“We will
awaken the Zaltule,” agreed Bixutl. However, once the Zaltule were awakened and
they learned of the tremendous amount of time that had passed while they were
asleep, there was no doubt in Bixutl’s mind they would not be willing to return
to their sleep chambers. Awakening the Zaltule would shake the Kleese Empire to
its core. He also suspected it would have a profound effect on the makeup of
the council as well.

“Very well,”
Keluth responded in a more conciliatory tone. “We will wait the warship’s
arrival.”

-

Hours later,
Xatul was aboard his private shuttle going into orbit around the eighth planet
of their star system. From this distance, the small K Class star shed very
little light upon the planet below. It was an ice planet with a diameter of
nearly twenty thousand kilometers, but that was not what interested Xatul.
There was a small moon sixteen hundred kilometers in diameter orbiting the
planet. Around the moon were nearly two thousand dark disk ships. All were the
same, three kilometers across and one thousand meters thick. These were the
warships of the Zaltule.

Xatul studied
the ships for a long moment. They were serviced regularly and could be made
combat ready in a matter of hours. Each ship was preserved by a weak stasis
field that ensured the ship stayed the same year after year.

“Take us down
to the surface,” Xatul directed the pilot of the shuttle. It was time for him
to make an inspection of the massive underground installation on the moon.

“We’re being
targeted by the moon’s weapons,” the pilot reported as a red warning light
began flashing.

“That is to be
expected,” replied Xatul, calmly. He quickly entered a command code on the
communications panel and sent it to the appropriate location on the moon’s
surface. Moments later, the red light stopped flashing.

The shuttle
quickly dropped down toward the dark rock of the airless moon. As they neared
the surface, a massive airlock swung open and the shuttle entered. It quickly
sat down in a large landing bay with hundreds of other small and large
shuttles. A group of heavily armed Kleese in battle armor made an appearance
and quickly surrounded the ship. There were no chances taken when it came to
the Zaltule. Xatul quickly exited the shuttle, identifying himself to the
waiting garrison commander.

“I have come
for an inspection,” Xatul spoke in his commanding voice, expecting obedience.
“Take me to the main sleeping chamber.”

“As you
command,” replied the commander, motioning for his troops to follow.

They walked a
short distance, their multiple legs making clicking noises upon the metal floor
of the landing bay. After going through several airlocks with thick metallic
hatches, they took a small tram further into the moon. Most of the armed troops
stayed behind, with only two entering the tram to accompany them. After nearly
twenty minutes, they arrived at their destination.

Xatul exited
the tram feeling a sharp chill. The temperature in this section of the moon was
noticeably colder. Ahead of him was a massive hatch with ten heavily armed
Kleese standing guard duty. Once more, he had to identify himself before he was
allowed admittance. After the guards were satisfied he was indeed the Supreme
Overlord, he was allowed entrance to the sleeping chamber.

Stepping
through the hatch with the garrison commander, Xatul came to a stop before a
large heavily reinforced window. There was ice evident on the inside. Looking
out, he could see a massive chamber that seemed to stretch for kilometers.
Inside the chamber were tens of thousands of large black cases in orderly rows
stacked ten high. A few Kleese in protective gear moved slowly down the long
rows, inspecting the recording instruments on each case.

“How many
sleep chamber failures have we had in the past month?” Xatul demanded, turning
to face the garrison commander.

“Forty-eight,”
the commander replied.

“Too many,”
Xatul muttered as his gaze returned to the inside of the chamber. There were
twenty of these massive chambers hidden on this moon buried deep beneath its
scarred surface.

After being
asleep for so long, the Zaltule were slowly dying. This was a secret that only
the garrison commander and the Kleese stationed here knew. Guard duty on the
moon was a permanent assignment and no Kleese ever left here after being
assigned. Xatul was the only other Kleese who knew what was happening.

“How many are
still asleep?”

“Over
twenty-two million,” the garrison commander replied. “We have lost over six
thousand in the last ten years. However, the rate of sleep death is increasing.
We will lose twice that many in the next ten years and twice as many the
following ten.”

Xatul nodded
his head. Events were proceeding that would force him to wake up the Zaltule
whether he wanted to or not. Their warrior abilities were too valuable to be
lost to the Kleese. If they were not awakened, most of the Zaltule would die in
the next one hundred and fifty years if the rate of sleep death continued to
accelerate.

“Begin making
preparations to rouse the Zaltule,” ordered Xatul, looking over at the garrison
commander. “Make sure we have everything in place for the awakening.”

“Yes,
Overlord,” replied the commander. “When will this awakening begin?”

“Not for a
while yet,” responded Xatul, wanting to delay it for as long as possible, but
knowing that a final decision would have to be made soon.

There was a
strong possibility that once the Zaltule were awakened his days of being the
Kleese Supreme Overlord would be over. There was no doubt that the Zaltule
would demand control of the council. At that time, there would also begin a
rapid expansion of the Kleese Empire as the Zaltule in their warships spread
across the galaxy. The time of slow expansion of the Empire would be over. This
had always been the plan when the Zaltule went to sleep, only Xatul hadn't
expected it to come about during his lifetime. Interstellar war would soon be
returning to the galaxy, and Xatul seriously doubted if anything or anyone
could stop the Zaltule.

General
Mitchell leaned back in his chair, his face covered in disbelief at what Marken
had just revealed to the group sitting around the conference table. Looking at
the others, he could see the same stunned look upon General Pittman and Fleet
Admiral Kirby’s faces as well as the others. Only President Randle seemed
unsurprised at Marken’s announcement.

“Clones?”
uttered General Pittman his face changing to a look of confusion. “What do you
mean, clones?”

“You say you
can grow them to full maturity in less than two years?” asked Kirby, trying to
think of all the ramifications of the bombshell Marken had just dropped on
them. This was one of the last things he had been expecting to hear when Marken
and Major Nelson requested this meeting.

“Yes,” Marken
responded with a confirming nod. Major Nelson, Harnett, Malton, and Crylia were
also seated at the table. Between them, he hoped they could answer all of the
questions that were sure to come. “The technology was on the computer drive we
received from the nonaligned worlds.”

“Imagine,”
spoke Major Nelson, leaning forward knowing he had everyone’s undivided
attention. “What if we could have one hundred thousand fully trained men and
women for the fleet as well as the Type Two and Three battle suits in four to
six more years? Then we could add another ten to twenty thousand per year as
needed. Our fleet would be as large as we want, along with our Space Marine
Corps.”

“It would
solve our current personnel problem,” Cheryl Robinson admitted her eyes growing
wide at the thought. “Is this really possible?”

“Yes,” Wade
responded with a nod. “If I didn’t believe this could work, I wouldn’t be
sitting here today.”

“Will these
clones be fully Human?” asked Mayor Silas of Luna City, taking in a deep
breath. His mind was still trying to get a grasp on what Marken and the major
were proposing. “Will they have the same rights as regular Humans?”

“They will be
fully Human,” Crylia confirmed her eyes narrowing. It was essential the Humans
in this room understood that the Clones would be real people. “There will be no
appreciable difference between a Human clone and one born naturally. They will
even be able to have children.”

“But what will
they be like?” General Mitchell asked with deep concern etched into his face.
“They won’t have a childhood; will they be more like robots without emotions?”

“They will be
intelligent but very innocent when they first come out of the cloning
chambers,” Harnett explained in a patient voice. “The clones will learn
quickly, and their Human emotions should establish themselves as soon as they
begin interacting with other Humans. We must be careful who they interact with
at first to ensure that they develop a normal range of feelings.”

“It will be
necessary to select a large number of dependable Humans to work with the clones
the first year, perhaps even going through their training with them,” added
Crylia, wanting to stress how important that first year would be. “We are also
going to be developing videos they can watch to help move things along.”

“Videos may be
fine,” spoke Cheryl, shaking her head. “But it can’t replace real Human
interaction.” She could well remember what it had been like for her growing up
in her parent’s home. These clones wouldn’t have that crucial experience. “They
won’t have a childhood and the memories of that upbringing.”

“You'll have a
lot of people who will object to his,” Professor Scott said in a softer voice.
“Some people may never accept the clones as Human.”

“We’re well
aware of that possibility,” Marken admitted with a sigh. “But we hope that as
the years go by, the clones will be accepted as valuable members of Human
society.”

“It may take
time,” Cheryl commented as she thought about how best to tell the surviving
Humans in the colonies and habitats about the clones. It would involve a very
well thought out media campaign. Perhaps more so than even the military
recruitment campaign she was currently running. “In the long run, I think it
can be done,” she added after a moment of thought.

“If we do
this, then I propose that we give the clones the same Human rights as everyone
else,” Mason said, looking intently at the others. “There will be no
distinction between the two.”

Harnett
breathed out a long sigh of relief. This was what she had been hoping to hear.
It would make everything easier and solve some of the moral issues bothering
her.

“What if a
clone doesn’t want to be in the military?” Professor Scott asked his forehead
creasing with concern. “What if they refuse to fight?”

Marken looked
over at Major Nelson, who nodded and then stood up to better address the group.
This was one of the questions they'd already debated amongst themselves.

“This is a
survival situation,” Wade began in a well-controlled voice. “The clones will be
taught from the very beginning that they’re to become part of the Human
military. They will be required to go through all of the training to prepare
them for that day. When they graduate, they will be given a choice. If they
choose not to become part of the military, then they can become part of our
normal Human society. But we estimate that over ninety percent of them will
choose to serve.”

“So you’re
essentially going to force them to go through military training?” asked Mayor
Silas not happy with that idea.

“That’s what
they’re being created for,” countered Wade his eyes focusing on the mayor. “It
will also be good for the clones to be in a well structured environment until
they are actually ready to make decisions on their own. Even though they will
be physically mature, you may want to consider them as minor children until
they graduate.”

“I see,” replied
Mayor Silas, leaning back in his chair and placing his right hand on the table.
This was something he wanted to talk to Mason about later on in private. He
wasn’t completely sold yet on this clone idea.

The discussion
continued for another four long hours with details being worked out on the
number of initial clones there would be as well as how they would be treated.
It became clear early on that the clone idea was going to be accepted. They
really had no other choice if they wanted to survive in the war against the
Kleese. This might well be the only viable option available to them.

When they were
finally all in agreement, General Mitchell looked around the group. “Is there
anything else we need to discuss?”

Marken stood
up with his eyes focused on General Mitchell and Fleet Admiral Kirby. “If we’re
going to do cloning we need more help. I propose we launch our mission to Kivea
to rescue as many of our scientists, technicians, and young people as
possible.”

Fleet Admiral
Kirby suspected this was going to come up at some point in time. “We do have nearly
all of our ships from the Kleese attack repaired and back in operation,” he
admitted. “Not only that but Fifth Fleet will be fully operational in another
week. The battlecruisers have already left Vesta and are going through their
space trials along with their light cruisers and assault ships.”

“We had a
difficult time coming up with the crews for the new and damaged ships,”
announced Cheryl, recalling how they'd searched the entire system to find
enough qualified people. Many were going through on the job training, which was
a dangerous situation. While the ships were back in operation, they still had a
long ways to go before they were operating at peak efficiency.

“What’s the
minimum amount of warships we could send on this mission?” asked Mason, looking
over at Major Nelson and Marken.

He didn’t know
if there would ever be a good time to launch this rescue mission. At the
moment, the Kleese were still off balance from their last attack. Mason felt
confident they had a window of opportunity available for the next few months so
it would be safe to launch this mission if it could be pulled together quickly
enough.

“Marken and I
have discussed this in detail,” admitted Wade. He had felt nervous about
keeping these discussions a secret from the president and the higher ups in the
military but Marken had insisted. “We feel we can successfully complete the
mission with two battlecruisers, eight light cruisers, and twenty-four assault
ships.”

“How long
would you be gone?” Mason asked his eyes focusing on Major Nelson.

“Ten weeks,”
Wade replied in an even voice.

“We would have
Fourth Fleet gone and nearly half of another fleet if we agree to this,” Kirby
was quick to point out. “It could make us vulnerable to a Kleese attack with
the current untrained status of the crews on some of our ships.”

“Without these
Kivean scientists and technicians, how hard will it be to complete the cloning
project?” asked Mason, drawing in a sharp breath.

“It's still
possible, though we might have to scale the project back to half of what we
could possibly do with the added help,” Marken replied his eyes focused on
Mason.

Harnett looked
over at Marken, struggling to keep her face straight. That wasn’t quite true.
If they involved more of the Kiveans in the asteroid city, it might still be
possible to create the full number of clones needed. It would be more
difficult, but she was confident it could be done.

“You
originally spoke of taking all of the large passenger ships with you,” spoke
General Mitchell. “How long would it take to have all eighteen ships upgraded
and ready to leave?”

“Six weeks,”
Marken quickly responded. “There are a large number of Kivean technicians
willing to help with the conversion. There will be other ships we'll need as
well.”

“We need to
discuss this,” Mason said, feeling the heavy weight of authority descending
upon his shoulders. “We’ll give you our decision tomorrow.”

Marken nodded;
he had expected no less. “Remember, our race’s future depends on this mission.”

Harnett let
out a deep breath. She hoped the Humans agreed. If not, it was doubtful the
Kivean race would survive. There were simply not enough Kiveans of childbearing
age in the new city to carry on the race. Of course, they could always resort
to cloning if everything else failed though Harnett preferred not to go that
route just yet.

-

The next day,
Wade was called into General Mitchell’s office. Going inside, he saw Fleet
Admiral Kirby was there as well as Colonel Adamson. General Mitchell indicated
for Wade to take a seat.

“The president
has approved your rescue mission to Kivea,” General Mitchell began as he
drummed the fingers of his right hand on the desk. “It was a difficult
decision, but it was felt that if we can rescue enough Kivean scientists and
technicians, it could well be worth it. We still have a lot of the technology
on that computer drive from the nonaligned worlds we need to decipher.”

Wade nodded
and reaching into his pocket, he slid a small computer flash drive across the table
toward General Mitchell.

“What’s that?”
asked Mitchell, picking up the small thumb sized drive and gazing questionably
at it.

“The
schematics to an ion cannon,” Wade replied with a smile crossing his face. “The
cannons are designed to be placed upon a planet or asteroid and are quite
deadly to ships in orbit. They have a much greater range than our particle beam
cannons and should be deadly, even against Kleese mother ships.”

“This is some
of the technology from the nonaligned worlds computer drive,” Admiral Kirby
stated, taken aback by the major’s description of the weapons capabilities.

“How hard will
it be to build these?” asked Mitchell, looking over at Major Nelson. Every
colony and habitat would be screaming for these once the capabilities of the ion
cannons were revealed.

“They're
highly technical and complicated to build,” Wade admitted. “It’s another reason
we need the scientists and technicians from Kivea.”

“A bribe!”
laughed General Mitchell, realizing what Marken and the major had planned. “In
this case, it isn’t necessary. Tell Marken the rescue mission is on and that
Colonel Adamson will be leading it.” Once again, it amazed Mitchell just how
Human the Kiveans could be at times.

“Is there
anything else you’ll need?” Kirby asked.

Wade hesitated
for a moment. The attack on Kivea was bound to involve a lot of fighting on the
ground. “We want the Crimson Star and a full load out of marines to go with us
to take the Kivean city of Micene. It has an estimated population of over one
million and will probably be full of Kleese conscripts. Marken also feels there
will be some Kleese on the ground coordinating the research of the Kivean
scientists.”

“The Crimson
Star,” Kirby uttered, not feeling surprised. “That’s our only other military
transport ship.”

“We’re risking
a lot on this mission,” Wade said, knowing he badly needed the ship if the
mission was to succeed. “But if we manage to rescue those Kivean scientists,
just think of what it might mean to the defense of our Solar System. The ion
cannons could make our colonies and habitats nearly impervious to attack from
the Kleese, and there is so much more on the nonaligned worlds computer drive.”

General
Mitchell looked down at the flash drive in his hand. Major Nelson was right;
the ion cannons would make a huge difference in the defense of the Solar
System. There was so much more valuable information on the nonaligned world’s
computer drive that needed to be deciphered and workable schematics drawn up.
There were some very good Human scientists, but the Kiveans seemed to have a
knack for this type of work. Even so, they were having a hard time deciphering
some of the information.

“Very well,”
he said after a moment. “You and Marken will coordinate everything through
Colonel Adamson. Major Nelson, you will be in charge of the marines going on
this mission as well as the ground assault.”