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Authors: Doug Dandridge

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*     *     *

“The clock is
ticking, First Councilman,” said Nguyen van Hung over the com to the leader of
Tsarzor.  “The radiation wave will hit your world in four thousand, three
hundred and ninety-two hours.”

“It’s strange to
think that this has already happened,” said the Klassekian male, looking into
the night sky to see what looked like the still intact pinpoint of the blue
supergiant.

“You’ll see the
flare of the star as it explodes,” said the Admiral.  “About four hours before
the radiation hits.  That star will be the brightest thing in your sky for
weeks before it fades, but there won’t be anyone alive on the surface of your
world to witness most of that splendor.”

“I knew this was
coming,” said the First Councilman, a look on his face that the Admiral had
come to associate with shock.  “It was still hard to believe that it was ever
going to get here.”

Nguyen nodded. 
And
he knows that he will not be here by the time the radiation clears.
  He
admired the courage of the elderly Klassekian, who had ordered that only those
young enough to reproduce, children, and valued scientists and technicians,
were to be allowed in the shelters. 
I’m not sure I could make that
decision, not with a hundred or more years of life ahead of me. 
“We’ll
keep putting shelters in the ground while we can, and get as many of your
people under cover as possible.”

“Thank you,”
said the First Councilman.  “Now, I must talk to my people.”

And I must
talk to mine
, thought the Admiral.  Now was the time to start taking some
tens of thousands or so of the people of Honish and its allies, so that the
genetic distinction of those ethnic groups were not lost. 
And maybe we can
breed some of the fanaticism out of them.

Several hours
later the full vid coms from beyond the hyper I barrier were coming in, and the
news was not good.


Garrett
reports
that they are unable to jump into hyper,” said the Com Officer, speaking about
the destroyer that had been station out beyond that barrier just so it could
test the theory of the XO of
Lewis. 
“It looks like hyper is barred to
us at this time.”

And it will
continue to be so for how long?  A week?  A month?  Surely not longer than
that.
  Longer than that would mean that a couple of hundred thousand more
Klassekians would die.  The figures that Harrison had come up with had hinted
at no more than a week or two, but they really wouldn’t know until hyper became
available again.

“Order all ships
on the perimeter to engage their graviton beacons with all available power,”
said the Admiral, thinking about that light cruiser and hoping they had gotten
into hyper in time. 
We won’t know until they reach here and start sending
out their own hyper beacon, if we can even read it with that mass of gravitons.

At least the
ships they had around the system would be broadcasting a simple warning signal
to anything approaching the system.  Similar to the system beacons used in the
Empire, there was no guarantee that they would get through that interference
either.  But it was the best they could do.

Nguyen brought
up a couple of the media casts on holo, kicking back in his chair to see what
the local news had to say.  Several were saying that the day of doom had come,
and that, although it was still six months in the future, the planet was still
officially doomed.  Other channels, those of Honish and a few of the religious
channels of Tsarzor, were stating that nothing had happened, as there was
nothing they could detect on the planet, and that the Imperials were still
lying, trying to panic Klassekians so they would agree to be taken off world,
where they would toil as slaves in the hypothetical mines of the invading
aliens.

Soon would come
more riots, possibly more bombs, the natives killing their own in protest of
the Imperials they couldn’t get at.  Pure fanaticism, plain and simple, and
probably tens of thousands more killed, taking away their final six months of
life.

“Something
strange is happening to the artifacts, sir,” reported the Captain of the ship
from his station on the bridge.

Nguyen switched
his holo to take a look at the nearest of the artifacts, now glowing softly
along its entire length and width.  “What kind of energies are we picking up?”
he asked his Sensor Officer.  The holo zoomed out to show the entire globe of
the planet, the half dozen artifacts in view rising high above the atmosphere,
all glowing with the same soft light.

“Simple light
photons so far, sir.  And nothing else.”

It can’t be a
lighting system, can it?  What use is that?

“Keep it under
close watch,” ordered the Admiral, staring at the artifacts, trying to discern
a pattern and, except for the equidistant spacing, finding none. 
Unless
that’s the only pattern that makes a difference. 
“Make sure every sensor
we have is looking at those things at all times.” 
Because there must be a
reason for them, and a reason for them turning on right now, at the same time
as the star blew.

Chapter Twenty-three

 

Many times, celestial phenomena
are mistaken for something of divine origin, of religious significance.  This
is because all intelligent species try to make sense of a Universe that makes
none to minds that have developed on planetary surfaces.  Eventually, they grow
up, and realize that a fluctuating star is just a star that is undergoing some
natural process.

Archbishop L’rranar, Reformed
Catholic Church of Phlistar.

 

The religious
frenzy that swept the planet when the artifacts lit up the night sky was like
nothing the Imperials had ever seen.   The closest analogue was that of the
Lasharans, when they went into a religious fugue state before launching one of
their bloody crusades.  Klassekians gathered in their churches and praised the
Gods for their salvation, or for their coming destruction, each as prophesied
by their holy books.  The more rational among them continued to count on the
Imperials for salvation, if not of themselves, at least of their species. 
While the more fanatical of them continued to obstruct the Imperials in every
way possible.

These people
really hate us
, thought Nguyen as he watched yet another riot on the holo. 
Again the zealots of Hrrottha, this time joined by those they considered
infidels, were marching on a landing field where volunteers were being
processed for cryo, then flown up to the new docking facilities that were
waiting in orbit, themselves awaiting the arrival of ships that were still
waiting in hyper outside the barriers.

And when in
the hell will hyper clear enough for them to translate down
, he thought. 
Hyper I was already usable, as was II and III, as proven by the arrival the
Merriwether
Lewis
within the last couple of days, two weeks after the detonation of
Big
Bastard
.  She had come down from III, and today they had been able to send
a probe into IV, but all of the ships waiting were interned in VI or VII, the
dimension they had traveled in.

Another ship had
been sent back to
Big Bastard
in hyper I to retrieve the data from
surviving probes, and to survey the system that was no longer one.  Nguyen had
looked over that data, amazed at the information they had gathered that would
be years in the analysis by some of the finest astrophysicists of the Empire. 
But now he had more important matters in mind, including trying to save this
species, whose majority seemed determined to subvert his efforts.

The Admiral
switched the view of the holo to another area of the surface, where yet another
shelter was being excavated.  Massive robotic machines were digging up a
hundred tons of earth with each scoop, while in the background construction was
proceeding on another shelter, this one already dug, more machines in the
process of putting together the framework of the stucture.  Once completed and
armored with carbon nanofiber and thick alloys, it would be covered by over a
hundred meters of packed earth, the revised estimate of the engineers for what
would be needed for satisfactory material protection.  They were ahead of
schedule on this part of the plan, though the experts were still divided on
whether the people sheltered would survive, and whether the world could be
terraformed back to a living ecosystem in time for their continued survival. 
If so, they were going to save an estimated twenty million of the Klassekians. 
If not, they were just delaying the inevitable.

I really
didn’t ask for this shit
, thought the Admiral, wondering why he had ever
worried about losing this command.  The pressure seemed to be crushing him in
his seat.  The responsibility of saving an entire species and all of their
cultures, even if they were resisting his efforts.

“Sir,” came the
call on the com.  “General Wittmore is on the com.”

“Put him on,”
ordered the Admiral, then waited the few seconds for the face of the Imperial
Army officer to appear on the holo.

“What’s the
news, General?”

“We started
Operation Grab, as per your instructions, as soon as the news of
Big Bastard
blowing reached us,” said the Army officer, a slight smile on his face.

Operation Grab
was the plan to kidnap and transplant Klassekians who belonged to the religions
of Honish, those who objected to leaving the planet in defiance of the
scriptures of their God.  Some had suggested that they just use nanoprobes to
gather genetic material from members of that ethnic group, then clone them. 
The problem with that was the manner in which some species responded to
cloning.  All lower forms of Earth life cloned just fine, until the level of
the primate was reached.  Primates, including humans, cloned just fine
physically, but mentally, psychologically, something went missing.  Human
clones were psychopaths, with no conscience.  It didn’t matter how they were
raised, or who did that raising, they all turned out the same.  Murderous,
criminal, insane.  It didn’t work that way with many intelligent alien species,
and no one knew how it would work with this species.  Some had suggested just
going for the cloning, forcing the clones to reproduce naturally, then raise
their children away from them.  But the Admiral had vetoed that suggestion.  In
his mind it was better to raise them the way they were used to being raised.

“How many do you
have so far, General?”

“My special ops
people have taken a total of one thousand and fifteen family units so far. 
Which works out to over seven thousand individuals.”

And,
hopefully, none of them will even go missing
, thought the Admiral, thinking
about those people, and more, waking up in strange surroundings, not sure how
they got there. 
With all the turmoil going on, with people dying every
minute, everyone should just put down the missing to the effects of the riots
and retaliations.

“And they’ve
been processed?”

“All but the
last few, Admiral.  And over half of the processed have been taken up to the
orbital docks for loading.”

And all we
need is for ships to come in so we can load them and get them out of here. 
This disruption of hyperspace has really screwed up our timetable.

“Keep working on
it, General.  We’ve only got…”

“Sir,”
interrupted the Com Officer.  “We’re receiving a call for fire support from one
of the construction sites.”

“Show me,”
ordered the Admiral, who had moved his forces down to a lowered reaction state,
determined to lower the loss of life that had been occurring with alarming
regularity as natives attacked the construction and landing sites of the
Imperials.

The scene that
appeared on the holo viewer now told him that nonlethal protection was not
going to work in this situation.  There were tens of thousands of Klassekians
outside of the perimeter, and they were not peacefully protesting.  Instead,
they were crowding forward, throwing flaming bottles and improvised explosive
devices, firing off projectile weapons, even dropping artillery rounds into the
site.

The armor of the
infantry and their vehicles were protecting the Imperials for the most part. 
Sonics and gas was being projected over the crowd with some effect, but not as
much as desired.  And now the tactical holo was showing columns of vehicles
approaching through the hills on the roads leading onto the plains.  He zoomed
in on one of the columns, and cursed as the images of tanks and armored personnel
carriers appeared in several of the columns. 
Where in the hell did they get
those things
, thought the Admiral, getting the information on the vehicles
and seeing that they were the latest models of the Tsarzorian Army, not the old
fashioned, obsolete equipment he would have expected from reactionary
civilians, even if supplied by the Honish.

“Get me the
First Councilman on the com,” he ordered.  “Priority One.”

“Yes, Admiral,”
said the Klassekian leader as he appeared on the holo.  Behind him was what
appeared to be his council chamber, filled with Klassekian males and females
going about their business in an agitated state.

“What can you
tell me about this?” asked Nguyen, shifting over the feed from the other holo
onto the transmission to the First Councilman.

“I was afraid of
that,” said the male, making a head motion of disbelief.  “I have just received
word of mutinies in my military.  I am afraid that is a pair of my armored
divisions rolling toward that shelter site.”

“Can you regain
control of them?”

“We have been
trying to for the last half hour,” said the leader, giving a head shake of
negation.  “So, in answer to your question, I would say no.”

“Then we are
going to have to stop them, First Councilman.  In their tracks.  I’m sorry, but
I have no choice.”

“Do what you
have to do, Admiral.  I want you to save as many of my people as you can, and
if that takes killing some of them, then that is what it takes.”

“I will be back
in touch,” said the Admiral, then terminated that link and went back to the
tactical.

“I’ve lost some
troops,” said General Wittmore over the com.  “The bastards brought some heavy
antiarmor weapons to bear and took out seven of my soldiers.”

“Light them up,
General Wittmore.  You have my permission to use all force to clear those
people away from that site.”  Nguyen switched the com to one of the heavy
cruisers that was in orbit around the planet, tasked for a ground support
role.  “Captain of
New Athens. 
You are hereby cleared to provide fire
support to ground combat units at site Beta Six.  And lock onto those vehicle
columns approaching through the hills.  I want them killed, completely.”

There was
acknowledgement from that ship, and the Admiral leaned back in his chair to
watch the two holos that were revealing the destruction he had set in motion. 
It wasn’t something he wanted to do, since he was an explorer, not a warrior
per se.  This called for a warrior, and he felt almost relieved that he could
unleash hell on the stupid people who were trying to prevent him from saving
their species.

The first holo
showed the view from the soldiers’ side of the battle, as lasers and particle
beams burned into the crowd, while high velocity pellets ripped through other
sections.  Mortars and missiles followed suit, and the return fire at fist
slacked off, then died, along with those Klassekians who were wielding them. 
The crowd broke, but this time there was no surcease, as the beam weapons and
rifles continued to tear and burn bodies, and explosives rained from the sky to
hit the far end of the crowd, cutting them off from retreat.

Maybe they
will learn something from this
, thought the Admiral, feeling sick to his
stomach. 
Maybe this will teach them that we are no longer fooling around
with them.

He looked to the
second holo as what looked like a streak of light connected sky with the front
of the column of vehicles in the view.  It was not a steak of light, but the
trail of the kinetic that had been launched by the heavy cruiser.  No
penetrator this one, but a weapon designed to spread its blast out from the
point of impact, it sent out a circular wall of superheated air and melted
earth.  The wave reached up and down the small valley, up into the hills on the
side which channeled it back into the roadway.  Soft skinned vehicles burst
into flame as they were thrown backward as if caught in a tornado.  Armored
personnel carriers were in some cases also set alight, as they were thrown up
and back in much the same way as the trucks and cars, if a lesser distance. 
Concussion and heat killed their passengers and crew, while ammunition popped
off inside the vehicles.  The tanks were rocked or pushed back, not near as
much as the lighter vehicles.  Their crews were just as dead from the
concussion, and the superheated air set many ablaze as the fierce wind actually
blew the turrets off of several of the tanks.

As soon as the
first weapon hit a second landed about a hundred meters further back, a few
seconds later followed by another a further hundred yards along the road.  Five
kinetics came down on that one road, before the cruiser started to work the
second cut, then the third.  When it was over each of the roads was a junk yard
of wrecked and burning vehicles, hundreds of bodies scattered about on the
ground, or hanging out of vehicles.  Flames reached to the sky while oily
columns of smokes spread up and out.

“I want all of
our videos of this sent to every news outlet on the planet,” ordered the
Admiral, tapping into the Com Officer’s link.  “I want everyone on the planet
to see this.  And I want to record a message to go along with the vid.” 
I
don’t want there to be any mistake this time.  I want them to know what’s going
to happen when they attack my people and installations.  From now on, there
will only be survivors if we happen to miss any, and my orders to my people
will be that everyone involved will be hunted down and eliminated.

*     *     *

“What in the
Hell is that?” asked Captain Gertrude Hasslehoff, staring at the huge construct
that hung in space before them.

The object in question
was mostly spherical, with some exceptions, and measured over a hundred
kilometers along its longest axis.  It was obviously not an asteroid, since its
skin had a metallic sheen to it.   The Empire had larger objects, but nothing
that existed in a dimension such as this.

“We’re picking
up energy readings from it, Captain,” said the Sensor Officer, looking over his
shoulder at his commanding officer.

That’s pretty
obvious
, thought the Captain with a small smile.  Since there were lights
all over the thing, it was using power.  “Any idea on what their power source
is?”

“No, ma’am.  No
neutron emissions consistent with matter/antimatter.  No radiation sources
pointing to fusion or fission reactions.”

BOOK: Exodus: Machine War 1 Supernova.
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